Showing posts from 2015

Lift Your Head Weary Sinner Until REFIT® a few weeks ago, I had never heard this song. Though David Crowder wrote the song in recent years, its lyrics belong among the classic hymns. When my instructor first introduced us to it, she showed us that the choreography had been created so that we would do the song with a partner. It's a toning song in the line-up, so while the song is a nice moderate beat, we would hold on to our partner's forearms while lifting opposite legs for glute work. As we began and worked our way through the song, I was struck by several things that have stuck with me: This song would be easier alone. If I could just stand there and do gluteal lifts, I would be more balanced rather than having to hold someone else up. It's really more inconvenient to do it WITH someone. I don't like eye contact. But in this song, it's a necessity. You have to look at your partner or you're both likely to land on the floor. If one of us

Metaphors are my Jam.

Geraldine is my spiritual director. She's an older Episcopal woman who is also a licensed clinical social worker. She reminds me a lot of my mother's sister, Aunt Carolyn: very wise, very careful with her words, and quite compassionate. I've been seeing her for a few months now and her office is one of my new favorite places. It's cozy, cluttered, and it smells like dust with a hint of redemption. It's stacked high with books, papers, kleenex boxes, and children's drawings that she's apparently collected for years. She has two wingback chairs and a rocker. The first time I came, she said "sit anywhere you're comfortable." And she meant it.  I love the rocker. It's a peaceful place and I have nothing to do there...I just have to be.  "Jerry" lets me talk about anything I want during our hours together. She invites me to begin with wherever I am on that day, and then, when I finally take a breath, she reflects what she has heard, bo

These days

I have little scraps of paper all over my house with blog post ideas. One day maybe I'll get to writing some of those, but for tonight, my mind is all over the place and I just need to get some stuff down on (virtual) paper. What I'm learning... I can only control myself. I cannot control my husband, my child, OR God. This is becoming quite evident, and the more I realize it, the more peace I have. Control is rooted in fear and fear is the enemy of peace. One day, or even a series of days when my child is four years old does not make up the bulk of her entire childhood. I do not have to mourn at the end of each day if it is not spectacular. It is not my job to entertain anyone or keep anyone happy. Sounds simple, right? One of the sweetest sounds I've ever heard is my four year old singing "'Tis so Sweet to Trust in Jesus." I learn more from her every single day. Realizing the Spirit is working on me to bring about its fruit is tough. But actually

A Letter to me

I became a mom in 2011 and I celebrated Mother's Day like it was going out of style.  It was May 8 and on May 6, we had gotten word about a baby girl in Taiwan...that baby girl, as you know, was OUR baby girl and she came home to us late that same year. So I count 2011 as the year I became a mom. Since then, I've had four Mother's Days with her. It seems unbelievable that much time has passed already. So today, I wanted to write myself a remember. Dear Stephanie, These days, you've nearly forgotten your real name, Stephanie. You go by "mommy" about 90% of the time. Even Justin calls you "mommy" because you've both gotten into that thing that married people with kids do and call each other what your kids call you. The neighbors, they call you Steph, and it's pretty cool! Today is a reflection of what a lot of the days in these past few months have looked like. You have your good moments, but for the most part, you are s

When I am Afraid

There's this strange saying in the English language. It's about being afraid. But not of something, rather because of something. You know it..."I'm afraid we won't be able to go" or "I'm afraid I have some bad news." I've always thought it sounded odd to start a sentence like that. But lately, as we've struggled through some parenting and just life moments, I've been saying that a lot to myself and it sounds like this: "I'm afraid I'm not enough." There are TONS of mom blogs out there, not to mention social media, that tell us to give ourselves grace, press on, hang in there, everyone feels the same way, leave the dishes in the sink, and my all-time favorite called "Jesus canceled your mommy guilt trip." I eat those up. I read good stuff about letting go of mom guilt, really connecting with my adopted child, and have some incredible friends who are great at texting late at night after kiddo is in bed and I