When Fear Can Keep You from Enjoying the Ride

Last Summer I had the opportunity to ride a ferris wheel at a little fair in Eastern Washington with my Dad and Rogan. I will say, I wasn't too keen on the idea but both Rogan and my Dad wouldn't take no for an answer. 

We stood in line, looking up at that gigantic circular thing in the sky and my stomach did a flip just thinking about being on it. Rogan of course, gazed up in awe and excitement as he held Grandpa's hand.

I've rode on a few carnival rides in my life but I think I've become a little more cautious and a little skeptical. Why would I put my life (and my son's life) in the hands of a complete stranger!? Trusting him to operate a piece of equipment that hoists me 60 feet in the air. Sounds pretty absurd when you analyze it like that. 

Once he got us loaded into the little rocking car/cage and the safety gate was fastened he stepped over to the controls and up we go... 

Well, only a few feet and then we stop, wait for the next car to be loaded and then up we go again. We slowly went higher and it got more terrifying to peek over the side, butterflies flipping around in my stomach as I imagine how much scarier it will be at the very top. There was way too much time to think just sitting there, suspended high above the ground. 

I have always felt like it is pretty acceptable to scream at carnivals, and that is truly what I wanted to do. Yet I think it would have been pretty obvious where it came from since nobody else was screaming on our ride or anywhere close to us. When the last person was loaded on to the ride (which felt like an hour) the ride could  finally begin, and it did. Around and around we went, the car rocking (thanks to my Dad adding some excitement to it), and Rogan beaming. We made memories that day last Summer, I survived and didn't even toss my cookies. And Rogan, he experienced his first ferris wheel ride. 

........

Mike reaches over and squeezes my hand, "It's a crazy ride babe. A very slow wait to what will soon be a crazy ride." 

Our house is pending, and if all goes smooth we are to be moved out in three weeks, yikes! That's exciting! Yet, now we need a place to move to. Every day we search the internet for homes to buy and for some reason or another every one is a dead end. 

During all the house showings there was a lot more activity and excitement. There was that rush that comes with the first steps, kinda like getting in the car and having the ferris wheel move for the first time. Now there is less to do as the process clicks along with a sale pending. The only thing to do is wait, wait for everyone to be loaded onto the ride. 

Now there is a lot more time to think about all the 'what if's' and look over the edge of the car to worry whether the ride was put together correctly. Time to think about how scary it will be when the car is at the top and then drops down the other side.

Taking a step of Faith in any situation is just that, A step of Faith. It requires action. First we must decide to even say yes to the ride or that first step. 

Yet, that's not where it ends. After we commit there is many more steps, just like when I was sitting on that ride waiting for the action to start. There was the step of waiting, and trusting, patiently believing that ultimately God is in control. During all those "waiting" steps there is also space that if I allow it, the doubt can sneak in and distract creating nothing but a freak out of panic. 

This waiting that we find ourselves in right now is just as important as the "YES" that started this whole journey. Who likes to wait though? Not me. 

It's often in the waiting that I feel God is silent. 

I'm fixated and focused on Him revealing a place for us to live and when that doesn't happen I start to freak out. I look over the edge of the ride, I look down at everyone below me. From that perspective of fear and panic it looks like nobody cares or sees me. It looks like everyone is moving along with their life and I am just stuck, waiting on a ride that isn't going anywhere. My hand grips tighter on the rails and I let my mind spin out of control of all the "what if's", my biggest fears of selling our house and finding ourselves in a less that desirable situation. 

But if I can stop those thoughts in their tracks and relax my grip, look up and take a deep breathe, this is what I will see...

And somehow I feel safe when I look out and look up rather than looking down and inward. 

When I embrace the part of the ride I am currently in the focus isn't on fear but rather the joy that is right in front of me.  

This, right here, is a memory I will forever cherish. And this crazy ferris wheel ride of house selling and buying is making memories that someday I will look back on as priceless memories.

May I not be so gripped by fear that I miss the blessings that God is giving me. 

For I know the plans I have for you says the Lord, they are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. Jeremiah 29:11

It's about more than money and no rain.

I checked the weather forecast and our few days of warm sunny weather was coming to an end, the rain was on it's way just in time for my first outdoor show of the season. I must admit, my heart hasn't been into leather work since we started our house selling and buying journey. I've been a bit preoccupied with other things, one of them being our beloved 8 year old dog giving us a big scare earlier in the week that his time on earth had come to an end. (After a visit to the vet and some meds he seems to be on the mend.) Although, the emotional roller coaster left me a little drained and exhausted. 
So, Friday rolls around and I finish the last of my pricing and like always decided to make just one more cuff. Mike volunteered to come with me and help set up and tear down and give me breaks. I was kinda wishing I could be self sufficient and do it on my own, not wanting to take an entire day from my husband after he had just worked all week, and then on top of it the difficulty of dragging a 4 year old around with him all day!  It seemed like a lot to ask, but he was willing to help and support me, so I accepted. My Mom said she would be praying for my show and that the rain would hold off. 

Saturday morning came early like 5:30 am and that's just crazy for Rogan and I! There weren't many words being spoken and there was much coffee drinking taking place. We were on the road and only about 30 minutes into our long drive when Mike and I watched a car in the oncoming lane hit the curb, spin a full circle and then shoot across 4 lanes right toward us! It was slow motion and happening in a blink of an eye all in the same moment. All I could do was stare at this old boat of a car (you know, the kind with an 8' hood made of all metal, not a shred of plastic on it) coming straight for us, and fast! I'm not sure exactly what happened next other than, there was braking and accelerating and some good driving on Mike's part. Somehow we managed to get out of the way by inches. The car shot past us in our lane and finally came to a stop 100 yards behind us after doing another complete spin... Crazy!

Who needs coffee to wake you up when you have adrenaline pumping through your body before 6 am!? It was a near miss to say the least, a moment where all I could do was gasp for air to catch my breathe and thank God and Mike over and over for the rest of the drive. As the very long and eventful day finally came to an end, I reflected on the crazy week and day that was now behind me. I felt exhaustion, but so much gratitude and so much fulfillment. 

If there is one thing that this house journey is teaching me, it is to trust God All. The. Time. Also, to trust my husband, to pray with him and communicate my fears and dreams. When we are facing the unknown of where we will live, comforting each other over a sick pet and having the tar scared out of us with a near miss there is something special that happens, a deep connection that reminds me of this, We are on the same team!

We are brought together closer to God and closer to each other in the midst of the storm or the chaos. 

My heart is full not because I had an overly profitable show, or because we found the perfect house. But because I experienced God's hand of protection, and connectedness with my husband. No matter where we end up living we will be okay because we will be together, and for that I'm grateful. 

At the end of the day I messaged my Mom and thanked her for praying, maybe the prayers weren't answered quite like we had planned (for great sales and no rain) but they were answered just perfectly...

God knew better than all of us just what we needed to get us through the day (all of last week for that matter). 

Dinner out after our long day on Saturday

Sittin' This One Out

"I am not a runner" 

Is something I use to say all the time. 

So, four years ago when I started running and ran my first 1/4 mile I was beside myself. I remember slowing to a walk as Mike and I were close to our house, I was victorious and mad all at the same time. I'm not sure why I was mad other than all those endorphin's were pumping through my body and I was gasping for air and it was the hardest thing I had physically ever done, and for some reason that makes me mad! As soon as I caught my breathe my mood changed drastically and I was flying high because I felt more accomplished than I ever imagined. I'm still only talking about a mile or maybe two but it was hard and took every ounce of intestinal fortitude I had. Then before I knew it, I could go on a four mile run and (some days) feel like a gazelle.

I ran my first race and thought my heart was going to explode in that home stretch, and when it was done I felt AWESOME! I was hooked. I had experienced what they call the "runners high". And in 2012 I ran four 1/2 marathons. That may not seem like a big deal to some, but to me it was a very big deal because I was doing something I had always believed I wasn't cut out for and couldn't physically do. I felt amazing and after any run whether short or long I found clarity in this crazy mind of jumbled thoughts. 

Some of my greatest epiphanies have been during a race when I'm so tired I have nothing left to think about other than the really deep things. And on those days that I just wanna scream or cry, I feel like a new woman after a little run in the fresh air. 

None of it was ever easy though and many times I cried out to God in the middle of a race asking for the strength to get me through. It took dedication, time, sweat and perseverance... ya know, all that fun stuff! Although I was always making progress and getting better. 

Then, last year it all came screeching to a halt when I hyper extended my knee. It wasn't a dramatic "Oh my goodness I just hurt myself kind of thing". But I definitely knew something was wrong. After a full year of healing I gradually began increasing my miles and was so happy to be able to run again. 

Only to have it come to a halt once again when I hurt my "good" knee on a measly little run in Guatemala. Humbling to say the least. And discouraging to finally be experiencing the release of stress through running again just to be slowed down to a painful limping walk. 

I write about all of this because one very important thing has been on my mind as I have been walking and healing once again. And it is this, 

I am no less of a person if I never run another race in my whole life! 

Yes, the discovery these last few years was amazing and I learned so much from pushing myself physically and reaching down deep. Thinking that I truly was going to die at mile 12 and then actually crossing the finish line to hear the crowds cheer. It's pretty much a "Top of the World" experience!

If I never experience that again, IT'S OKAY! I'm OKAY!

I've been limping, and icing and stretching and going to appointments remaining hopeful to still do the 1/2 marathon I'm registered for (1 month away). There has been much planning and anticipation for it. A girls weekend and road trip, driving with a close friend to meet up with my sister and have a great race together. And while that's understandable to be disappointed in not getting to follow through with our plans, I believe it goes much deeper.

It is humbling to be weak and admit that I can't do something. It is devastating to be out on a walk in town and have fellow runners run by you and not even notice you, and even harder to lose your outlet for stress through running. 

But despite all of that, it doesn't change that I'm still God's masterpiece, whether I run or not. When I start to doubt my self worth and get down on myself, then I must look to the root problem and acknowledge what may seem like an elementary lesson... yes, He still loves me!

My self worth is not wrapped up in how many miles I ran today or my pace or what races I'm doing this year. Sure, it's empowering and encouraging when you PR or do something you thought physically impossible. But what happens if circumstances change or our bodies fail us or... (fill in the blank), then what? Do we believe the lie that we are no longer victorious? Or do we feel less than because we can't keep up with our friends? 

If there is any lesson to take away from this silly little injury it would be that it's okay to be humbled (although it hurts) and it's also okay to say, "I need to sit this one out" and not think less of myself because of it. 



(I also must add that two very understanding and amazing friends/sisters helped in my decision process and permission to cut myself some slack.) 

Seeing the Little Things

Between cleaning and tidying and picking up matchbox cars and wiping dog paws I have come to the conclusion that selling your house is hard work! Stressful to say the least with plenty of time to play out scenarios in your head of all the "what if's". 

I get self consumed so easily and wrapped around the axle of this... this life of taking one last look through the house, grabbing a nervous boxer dog, a four year old and heading out the door to disappear for some stranger to come snoop through our house (I know they probably aren't snooping through our things, but it still feels a little vulnerable), and I wonder why I'm running a bit short on patience with all three of my boys.

This week I came across that same 3 x 5 card in my Bible that spoke to me back in November. God used it to get my attention once again. (hmm, maybe this is something I really need to grasp!) If you missed it the first time I will share it again...

Gratitude is the foremost quality of a believing disciple precisely because gratitude is what births trust... the true belief.   -Author Unknown  

Recognizing every little gift and thing that makes me smile in a day does one very important thing...

It takes the focus off of me!

In Donald Miller's Storyline productivity sheets he has a section to write down "things I get to enjoy today" and in Ann Voskamp's book 1000 gifts she talks about writing down every thing throughout the day that speaks to your heart and brings a smile to your face. 

I have done both of these exercises for a period of time in the past, and they do exactly what they are intended to do, they diffuse anxiety. Instead of focusing on all the things that could happen I'm noticing all the things that are actually happening right in front of me. Little things that are really easy to overlook or brush off as nothing. But when I take the time to write them down, it puts a certain kind of importance on them and helps me to see that God is here right beside me. Funny how that works, when I acknowledge God's presence suddenly I'm not so afraid. My eyes come off of myself and I am able to look up, further out than an arm's length away. I feel as if I can take a deep breathe.

When I opened my eyes and looked for God in anticipation this is what  I saw...

1. The smell of beach air and the ocean...oh, the ocean!
2. Dozer running at lightning speed on our early morning walk
3. Coffee and cookies for breakfast
4. Family time to reconnect
5. Cousins playing in the sand
   
6. A quiet morning to contemplate and refocus
7. Cuddled up boxer next to me on the couch
8. A little boy that is being sweet and nice today
9. A spot opening up for the class I really wanted
10. A chocolate cupcake
11. The rain (yes, I do like it) 
12. Going for a walk without pain in my knee
13. Rogan writing his name all by himself
14. Homemade creamsicles on a sore throat
15. The smell of fresh cut grass

I need this.

I need to be totally and completely focused on all that God is doing around me. To open my eyes and see Him in every part of my day. Because if I don't look for Him, I will be weighed down, defeated, and anxious. 

That is not the life God has called me to. 

Whatever you may be facing today, whether it be crushed dreams, hopelessness, loss, or just the inconvenience of selling a house; I pray that God would show you something today to make you crack a little smile.


(This picture right here, just so happens to be one of those things that fill me back up. Crazy to some, but that's why God speaks to us all different I suppose.)

You Can't Always Get What You Want

I prepared myself for my dreaded annual check up. Probably not for the obvious reasons, but simply because they are a great reminder to me of how my body has let me down.

So, I rolled my shoulders back and told myself I would NOT say a word about infertility to my doctor who has walked this very long road with me. She knows me so well that she greets me with a hug every year and discusses options of treatments and scratches her head with me as to why my body has done this when there is no reasonable explanation. She is a believer and I can be honest with her when I don't feel God is leading us in one direction or another.  

In this recent visit it came up that Rogan wants a little brother or sister, I told her that I had come to peace with one child until he started asking for me to grow him a baby in my tummy. The words no sooner left my mouth and I was thinking, "this is what you said you weren't going to do"!! I was sure I had opened the door (accidentally) to a problem solving meeting on how to get me knocked up. I held my breath and looked across the room at her as she was quietly sitting there waiting for me to finish my sentence. I was shocked at her response...

She said, "You know, we don't always need to give our kids everything they want."

This coming from a lady who just put her youngest in college and I would assume sitting pretty well financially. Which is a total assumption on my part about the money, but I imagine a doctor/surgeon makes a bit more than our little family. (It is easy to get caught up in the lie that if money were no issue then we could give our kids whatever they need.) So here she is further down the road and giving me this insight that she has learned to be true...

"We don't need to give our kids everything they want. And that's okay" 

Not what I was expecting to hear from someone who helps couples conceive for a living.

I think there is this great pressure and parent guilt that we all unknowingly put on each other. That we need to give our kids every opportunity and encourage and do everything in our power so they don't feel deprived. My 20 year old self would have said something much different than how I feel today. Something along the lines of, "my kids will be involved in any and every sport they want and will never have a need or a want unmet." It's easy to have strong opinions about how your'e going to raise kids before you have that little responsibility and your'e faced with actually raising a nice human rather than a monster.

I didn't get everything I wanted growing up, I was disappointed and maybe even missed out on opportunities. I don't mean that as a slam on my parents either. 

That's just life. And I believe the disappointments I faced as a kid prepared me for what my grown up life has handed me.

My parents did a good job at not coddling us or rushing around to every sport and activity to keep up with the Jones. 

And again, my 20 yr old self would have said that getting my kid involved in everything was the most important. I do think giving him options and opportunities is good, hearing his hearts desires, yet what I think is more important is being okay with telling him no. 

Or, this is not a god decision for our family.  

Or, I don't understand why this happened, but together we'll get through it. 

I don't have to have all the answers and I certainly don't have to make everything work out smooth in his little life. 

Why would I want to start teaching him now that every thing we want or desire in life comes to pass. That is simply not true. There are disappointments in life and we don't always get what we want. And while it is our job to nurture and care for our kids giving them food and shelter and all that really important stuff, I don't think our job is to be their Genie in a bottle. 

The topics of sports or providing them with siblings are much different but I believe the point is the same. Without realizing it we begin to bend over backwards letting those sweet little voices steer our decisions of what they want rather than what we feel is best for them or our family. (Obviously not all of those decisions are in our control, yet I want to choose to be at peace with those that are not.)

I will be doing him much more harm when he is all grown up and gets disappointed, turned down or told no for the first time by this big mean world. I would much rather walk through the disappointment with him now while he's still little and honestly much more resilient than me. 

Because, we all know how tough life can be and we don't always get what we want. 

And that's ok!

(OK, I will get off my soapbox now. Thanks for reading!)

My Kitchen

It's only fitting to be where I am today while typing this post. At my kitchen counter sitting on the log bar stool. I cleaned these stools last week in preparation for the sale of our house and I thought about all the people who have sat here and rested their feet on this very warn, weathered stool. So many memories just in this kitchen alone, so many conversations at this counter. Usually with me on the other side, at my cutting board with one foot resting on the bottom drawer and a friend sitting here where I am today. 

There is something beautiful about this counter, these stools, this kitchen. It's not granite, it's not fancy, or really anything spectacular. It's about so much more. It's more about the relationships and life and the tears that have happened right here. The clarity in a confusing situation or the major epiphanies. 

I think about the meals I have prepared over the years with friends in this very kitchen. Experimented and taste tested together, rejoicing together when they were a success and making notes when they were a utter and complete fail. 

It was in this kitchen that I discovered how it warms my heart when I see a friend come over and open the fridge or cupboard and help themselves. I know they feel at home and comfortable which is the very thing I want my kitchen to communicate...what I want to communicate.

As Rogan has gotten older and less easy to pack around for coffee dates with college aged girls or friends, I have accepted that this is where I can meet with people. A quiet, safe place to connect and talk while he naps. At first it didn't seem like enough to offer but as I've watched it naturally happen it proves to be the perfect place. 

A place to be real, to cry, to say really hard stuff, not pretty it up or articulate the right words. Just cry, cuss, laugh, whatever it takes to share your heart. I rarely ever feel like I know what to say or have much to offer. Often times it's just a listening ear. 

With so much of our relationships built over technology these days, this is a place where it can be Live. When my friends are just across the counter from me, I feel like I can do so much more. I can reach out and take their hand, give them a hug or simply make them a cup of tea. I can pray right here and now, out loud together and share tears rather than say or text, "I'll be praying". I feel less helpless in walking the painful roads with people when they are here close enough to fix them a plate of food. 

We are just beginning this journey of selling our home, which now is feeling more and more like a house. And I am getting really nostalgic (if it's even possible for me to become more sentimental). While cleaning and scrubbing I've been doing much reflection on our lives here under this roof. I am not the same person I was 14 years ago when we built this house, and moved in. We hadn't even been married 1 year, with so many hopes and plans. And never did I think I would grow so attached to this place. Somewhere back there behind us, it turned into something more than just a little house, our first house. It has held so much of us, of our life, our experiences... it has become a home. 

Both Mike and I have always desired and dreamed about property, space, a place to have animals and peace and quiet. And so we have to let go of what we know and the place we have grown so comfortable in to experience something else. So together we step out, off the ledge and take a leap of faith. 

I am confident that what has been experienced here in this kitchen, will undoubtedly be experienced anywhere. Even if I am blessed with a teeny tiny kitchen. Because what really matters are those moments and hours spent together, face to face. 




These stools will move with us, and so will my love for making friends a plate of food. So with that, I rest assured that wherever God leads us it will be okay and there will be more conversations on these stools. 

I Got More Than I Gave

Many people have asked me these two questions since I've been home. 

How did Guatemala most impact you? 

What did you take away from he trip?

Here's my answer to both questions, in a nutshell. God's love!

Now, I know that seems really vague and a little too "tie a pretty little bow on it" for me. But I'm serious, I experienced God's love in ways I never imagined. So, I will do my best to explain something that is difficult to put into words. And share the two stories that communicated that love to me. 

As I shared in my post God's Love in another Country I was completely taken back on how God connected two families, two women, two little boys with the same hearts desire. He cared so much to match us with that specific sponsor child, and regardless of the outcome, I know deep deep down inside that He loves me and ALL my little heartaches matter to Him. That one story would have been enough, that's a pretty amazing thing to take away from the trip. But there's more... let me explain. 


On our first day at the schools, I will admit, I was overwhelmed. Like, not sad or feeling bad for them, just plain overstimulated. Everyone had talked about how there is no language barrier when you are playing with and hugging the kids, but I felt a huge barrier. Deep down inside, I felt awkward, out of place...just uncomfortable. I wanted to feel instantly magical and overcome with love, but really, I was just overwhelmed. 

This is me, on the first day...awkward!

For the second day, Tuesday I gave myself a job helping Karen in the craft room. Give me a task and then a craft on top of it, and I'm good! Then I can ease into and all the other stuff like playing soccer and running around and pushing kids on the swings. I'm not a natural at interacting with kiddos, it takes me a bit to warm up. 





Every day after the first got better and I became more comfortable. I was really enjoying myself and having fun. The few days we had with them flew by. On the last day the kids and the teachers prepared a special program for us with a dance and songs. The little girls wore beautiful fancy dresses and the boys had on nice sweaters. After the prepared songs they carried on with their normal devotional time. 

And we, the team, a crowd of adults stood there clueless to what we were about to experience.

We watched as they worshiped God, for real, unashamed and without inhibition. This is the time where they pray together and for each other on a daily basis, for big stuff like for a parent to quit drinking or to get a job. They have seen these prayers answered and we witnessed the faith that only comes from a life that has experienced hurt and God's healing. 

Then, the teachers walked over and tied bracelets on our wrists and prayed for us one on one. I was so fortunate to have Patty right next to me to translate what this beautiful (19 year old) teacher prayed for me. It was so authentic and meaningful, all I could do was hug her and accept her words.  

And if that wasn't enough to break a grown man (or woman) into a crying mess, the kids gathered around us and prayed for us. I had two or three come and get me by the hands and lead me away from where I was standing. I got down on my knees and they surrounded me, one little girl draped herself over my back and I had two more on either side of me with their little arms wrapped around me. They repeated a group prayer and in that moment all I could do was cry and humbly accept this precious prayer from these little kids in Guatemala. As the tears were falling down my cheek this little girl who was hanging over my shoulder and across my back, looked up and began wiping the tears from my cheek with her tiny dirty little hands. So I cried more, and my heart was full, fuller than it's been in a very long time. 

I don't know what her life is like, or anything about her. I only know her name because she is sponsored by one of my friends and she told me after I posted the picture on Facebook. But one thing I do know,  she clearly loves God and has this beautiful childlike faith. She was mightily used by God that day to pour out His love over me. 

Literally, she draped herself over me and wiped my tears. Isn't that a perfect visual of God's love?

I went on a mission trip to help, to work, to meet needs. And hopefully I did. But what was the most memorable and life changing was experiencing God, His care, His love spoken to me in very specific language that He knew would melt my heart.

Thank you for reading and sharing in this amazing journey with me.