{God-sized Dreams} Stop delaying, start doing

I'm probably the only momma around who goes to the grocery store and comes home with ideas for a book.  But, really, that's been happening since my 5 1/2-year-old girl {who told someone she's almost 6 ... um, May is still a few months away!} wasn't even walking, much less asking to push the kid-sized cart.

I got these ideas down little at a time. And then I shared with some friends, mentors and a stranger who becoming a friend. I've heard back from some of these people and their words have helped re-shape my idea.

From Holley Gerth, who is spurring a community of women on toward their dreams: The most dangerous word for a God-sized dream is “someday.” How can you start implementing your God-sized dream {even in a small way} right where you are? You’ve just opened up some space in your life and you’ll need a proactive plan or that space will get claimed by something other than your God-sized dream – guaranteed. Write a post about what you can stop delaying and start doing.

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
{Isaiah 40:31}

In her book, "You're Made for a God-sized Dream," Holley Gerth mentions this verse and then points out all the verbs. But none of them is sitting. Yes, waiting is an attitude God sometimes asks us to embrace. But not doing anything isn't an option when God has called you to something or someone.

I've been thinking about what they readers have my rough draft have said. You know, this one part doesn't really flow with the rest what you've got. What if you added ...? How about letting the story span more time? Could you expand the idea of grocery shopping?

Did you catch what I said? I've been thinking ...

It's true. I have these ideas in my head. Perhaps I should just start implementing them on the pages instead of keeping in my cluttered mind. Stop delaying and start doing. Stop thinking and start writing. Hope. Soar. Run. Walk. Write. One story at a time. One word at a time. Dreams happen when steps are taken toward them, discerning when to say "no" and when to say "yes." So, let's go ...
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Tuesdays are God-sized Dream days around here and I'm linking this post along with many, many other dreamers on Holley Gerth's blog. You'll find encouragement, truth and community there. Yes, that's an affiliate link for Holley's book, but I'm reading it and love it all on my own. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Like 152 Insights on Facebook. Or follow me on Twitter.

{Florida in February} The Beach

I may have lived in land-locked Kentucky my whole life, but I've loved the beach for a long time. Growing up, my family vacationed on Florida's Panhandle many years in a row. I've taken road trips with friends to Naples {twice}, Tampa, and Panama City.

Almost eight years ago, a hurricane changed our plans to vacation with my family in Perdido Key, Florida. We ended up in Hilton Head, SC. And, you know, besides a trip to Jacksonville Beach when my dad was working there in 2006, I hadn't been back to Florida. But I've been to South Carolina five times since then {July 2005. June 2008. July 2010. July 2012. November 2012.} and seen the beauty of the northern Atlantic coast.

When the save-the-date card for my cousin's Feb. 9, 2013 wedding on St. Pete Beach, Florida, arrived in my mail box several months ago, I heard the Gulf Coast calling my name. I didn't realize I'd missed it. Of course, I'm not likely to ever deny a beach my presence if it's possible to be there, where the land meets the water and downs out the chaos of everyday life.

We spent four nights in Madeira Beach, one of the many Gulf beaches near Tampa. Our condo sat at the end of the row of buildings next to John's Pass, so we could look to the south and see water and a drawbridge and out to the west and see the ocean. The location was lovely.

I ran on the beach a couple of times. Half of my family of four went to my cousin's wedding while the other half went to the immediate care center because Cate spiked a fever just days after her brother started a fever with strep throat. We saw Winter from "Dolphin Tale" and spent a day at Busch Gardens. We ate good food, played Spoons, and hung out around the heated pool and on the beach.

Yes, I could have spent another week {at least ...} there. Good call, Jennifer, on planning a beach wedding in February. We loved being there and loved an excuse to come back to Florida. It didn't take long for me to remember why I loved the Gulf Coast, where white sand covers the ground and the sun sets perfectly behind the water horizon.

Even in this paradise, imperfect life creeps in.

Our first morning there, Ben woke up with a rash. Turns out it can come with strep throat, according to my nurse friend who consulted a resource to see if it's "normal" for one to show up after a few days of antibiotic. Ben spent Wednesday and Thursday -- the two days before we left -- with a fever that wouldn't quite break as his body battled strep throat.

My nurse friend Courtney told me to make sure it didn't spread to his trunk. I really thought she texted the wrong word. I couldn't figure out what autocorrect mistakenly corrected. I was alone in my confusion. My husband and sister-in-law knew she meant his chest and belly.

After swimming in the {chilly} ocean and then the {heated} pool, Cate couldn't get warm. I figured it was just her body still chilly from the ocean swim. But even after a hot shower, it took a jacket in nearly 80 degree weather to warm her little body. The ocean was nothing like "The Bachelor" polar bear plunge I'd just days before on TV. After lunch, some homework and watching a movie with cousins, she walked up to me and told me she needed to take a nap. I saw glassy eyes and a flushed face. The thermometer confirmed: 102.2.

She ended up at the immediate care center, thanks to her Daddy who was missing the wedding we flew to Florida to attend. I was pretty sure she had strep throat and even tried to call our pediatrician back home. Cate's official diagnosis was tonsillitis. And thankfully she perked up the next morning and was able to enjoy the rest of our vacation.

Meanwhile, I rushed around to get wedding-ready {read: shower and put on a skirt} and forgot to put back on my insulin pump. Of course I didn't realize until eight of us filled a mini van.

We turned around and my gracious sister-in-law {who was closer to the door than my third-row seat next to the boys and their car seats} saved us some time by going back up to our fifth-floor condo to retrieve my pump from the bathroom counter. This is the same sister-in-law who is a hair stylist and offered to blow dry my hair. Seriously, that's speaking my love language. I would hire someone to come blow dry my hair every day if that a realistic option.

Then we had to wait for the drawbridge to come back down before we moved south on Gulf Boulevard to St. Pete Beach. We pulled into the parking lot about 12 minutes before the wedding was scheduled to start but couldn't find a parking spot. We ran by the valets, questioning why we didn't think of that option, right at wedding start time. Seeing the bridal party still gathered not at the ceremony site was a relief. We found our way to seats and took deep breaths.

After the wedding was over, my mom told Ben he was good. "I not make any noise!" he said. Of course, part of him not making any news was the yogurt-covered raisins he ate and stored for later in his shirt pocket.

That's my wedding date. A guy of many emotions.

Back at the condo, Cate rested and thankfully her fever came down. It's worth noting in a matter of three days, I had two kids start amoxicillin. And it was Cate's second time in less than a month. Ah, motherhood, always keeping us on our toes. It's certainly the job that never takes a vacation.
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{Florida in February} Dolphin Tale

I took my kids to see "Dolphin Tale" last summer when a theater not far from our house was showing already-released movies on the big screen for $1 admission. Of course, the three of us combined for more than $3 at the concession stand, but, still, I love going to the movie theater and jumped at the chance for a family-friend movie. Remember, I'm kind of picky about what I let my kids watch.

"Dolphin Tale" is one of just a couple non-animated movies my kids have seen. To say they love it may be an understatement. Cate talked about it for months. She recounted the story, asked questions about Hazel and embraced dolphins when she saw pictures of them.

Winter -- the dolphin on which the movie is based -- lives in Clearwater Marine Aquarium. One night this winter when we were putting Cate to bed, she asked me to tell her again where Winter lived. Tampa, Florida, I said.

Then I realized we had plane tickets to fly to Tampa for four days one long weekend in February so we could be at my cousin's wedding on St. Pete Beach. I don't know why I hadn't put together our trip south and my kids' beloved movie hero until this moment.

I made the mistake of telling my kids we could go see Winter when we went to Tampa in February. I think this was in December. And my kids talked about it until we got there. At least Cate, at 5, has some concept of time. Three-year-old Ben, on the other hand, asked when he got up, randomly throughout the day, and before he went to bed each night, "When we go see Dolphin Tale?"

Meanwhile, we had to show Greg the movie so he'd be in the know of Winter -- a dolphin whose tail was caught in a crab trap and permanently damaged. The movie is inspirational and my kids were happy to sit through it again!

Well, folks, we went to see "Dolphin Tale" a week ago. My only regret is letting my kids -- especially Ben -- know our plan so long before it became a reality.

Along with their cousins, my kids were glad to see Winter. They also got to see fellow dolphins Panama and Nicholas {who performed during a brief show}, Bailey the turtle, and some stingrays. While walking through the rescue marina, Cate talked about scenes she remembered from certain spots. She had a notebook with her too. 

Honestly, I'm not an animal lover. But I was impressed with this marina. They rescue marina animals and release them back into their natural environments if possible. If not, they give them a home. 
Take Nicholas -- his momma died of pneumonia a few days after the two dolphins were found one Christmas Eve. Because Nicholas was so young, he laid by his momma's side and ended up sunburned, which left scars that interrupted the way his skin would otherwise be camouflaged. Plus he didn't have a chance to learn survival skills from his mom before she got sick. So he puts on shows to Clearwater Marina Aquarium visitors like us. 
The kids got stuffed dolphin souvenirs. Cate's is winter and currently named Winter. Ben's is gray and named Nicholas. These names are subject to change, but both dolphins will remind them when they saw the real dolphin who learned to swim without a tail. Winter has a prosthetic tail that she wears sometimes and helped her learn to swim with the proper up-and-down motion. My kids stuffed versions even have a different colored tail so they don't forget what makes Winter special. 
Although I'm pretty sure they'll be able to tell Winter's story for years to come. And it's one worth telling.  ________
Disclosure: That's a compensated affiliate link for the movie, but, really, my family obviously thinks it's worth owning. And, yes, there are more Florida stories to come. 

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Weekend Words

The Radical Life of an Evangelical :: I don't love the word "evangelical." But while reading this, I realized it's not the word as much as the misinterpretation of it. "Evangelical is not a word for an outdated cultural movement, but a way to wrap your whole life around a cup and a cross. It’s not an empty promise for prosperity, but investing our very lives in each other because of an empty tomb." Well done, Jennifer Dukes Lee.

A Mom's Lenten Journey: Less Yelling, More Praying :: Um, wow. I could have written this. Well, except, Erin actually has a plan to address what she wants to change. The arguing and negotiating from my 3-year-old boy has {unfortunately} prompted some yelling lately. I need to cling to the truth before I let words spew out of my mouth. I'm thankful I read this just when I needed it most.
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{DaySpring} Save 30% on great gifts

This mug and other cupcake products are 30% off
through Feb. 24 with you use the code 30FAVE.

I like to give birthday gifts. And, really, just gifts in general. Perhaps I'm just forcing my love language on people I care about. 

Even so, I have a little closet at home that has gifts in it. Sometimes I've picked something out for someone specific. Other times I just find things I like along the way and store them up until it's the right moment to give them someone else.

One place I often find gifts if DaySpring. I did much Christmas shopping there and even received a few things from there. I have a notebook I love and some cute, decorative blocks sitting on my mantel.

Most recently, I gave a friend a coffee mug for her birthday. She broke it when she was showing it off when she got home from her party, so I ordered her another one.

Guess what? That coffee mug and other cute items from DaySpring's "Sweet Gifts" line are on sale! Get the coffee mug, a notebook, tote bag or note cards for 30% off until Feb. 24. Just use the code 30FAVE when you check out. Who doesn't want a cupcake near them to remind them of God's goodness?!

There is also this cute "Everyday Joy" line with similar products that may be more your style. These items also are 30% off through Feb. 24 with the code 30FAVE.

Find other February Monthly Specials while you're browsing. Happy shopping ... and gift giving! 
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{Five Minute Friday} Beloved

Swimming in February was more than alright with Ben. This is him last week in Madeira Beach, FL.

I'm participating in Five Minute Friday, a link-up writing prompt at Lisa-Jo Baker's blog. This week the prompt is "Beloved ..." 

Five minutes starts now. GO ... 

For the past three years, the word "beloved" has made me think of my boy, Benjamin.

It's not the first word that comes to mind. Messy. Loud. Funny. Stubborn. Fearless. All boy. Those are the words that I'd first use to describe Ben. But in those messy, loud, fearless moments of jumping into the pool with no hesitation or wanting to play outside when it's barely above freezing, my faith has been changed.

My first-born girl was easy as a baby and she mostly still is a kindergartner. My boy has challenged me and forced his Daddy and me to figure out new strategies to discipline and encourage and motivate. And, truthfully, I feel like I fail at what is best for him on a regular basis. He likes to negotiate and debate, and too often I fall into his game. I raise my voice far too often because I just want to get his attention.

But in the next minute, he'll make me laugh. He's got a grin and eyes that make me forget the wrangling and persuading I did five minutes before.

When I made Ben's adoption book, I struggled to think of a name for it. Greg suggested "beloved" and then I Googled verses to find one to go with that. I found one, alright. And then I realized the same verse was at the bottom of on the blessings from our friends.

About Benjamin he said: “Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.”

{Deuteronomy 33:12}

Yes, he's messy and loud and fearless. I'm still figuring out how to parent him, but he is beloved. By God and his momma.


STOP.

Want to join us? Here are Lisa-Jo's rules: 1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. 2. Link back here and invite others to join in. 3. Please visit the person who linked up before you and encourage them in their comments. That is like the one rule we all really care about. For reals.

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{Out of the Blue} Answered Prayer

Awaiting the informal formality of finalizing Cate's adoption, which was one of God's best surprises. 9.20.07.

For almost two years, I prayed to be pregnant. I didn't expect some immaculate conception, but I did expect all the vials of blood that were being drawn regularly to lead to information that would help. I thought when the doctor unblocked one of my two tubes, that our chances would improve. I took medicine that made me crazy. I saw a specialist two hours from my small town. All because I wanted to be pregnant. 

Kristen at Chasing Blue Skies is starting a new, weekly series on surprises. This week's question is: 

How did the Lord answer a prayer for you in a way that surprised you?

While I was busy praying to get pregnant and trusting my doctor who believed medicine was only part of the equation, the One who really is in control was orchestrating a story I couldn't see yet. An 18-year-old girl in Indiana was pregnant and praying for an answer to this surprise growing in her belly.

Before we went for what was our second visit to the reproductive endocrinologist in Nashville, Tenn., Greg and I agreed if the doctor recommended in-vitro fertilization, we would turn our attention to adoption. This seemed right for my emotions and body, the well-being of our marriage, and our finances.

So when the doctor said he thought our best chance of becoming pregnant would be in-vitro. Instead of sadness, I felt peace. It was the kind of peace of passes all understanding and I was so grateful to be experiencing that and not the emotions that mounted in the nearly two years of me praying and hoping and trying to be pregnant.

This was September 2006. We had no idea what adoption would be. I was worn out from telling doctors and nurses this infertility history with each medical step we took. I wasn't ready to answer social workers questions that would surely come with applying to an adoption agency. So we just waited and told friends and family and doctors and lawyers of our hope to adopt.

We didn't know yet that an 18-year-old girl was about a month into her pregnancy and her first semester of college.

Then on Christmas Eve, just three months later, my sister and her then-boyfriend-now-husband brought news better than any gift they could ever wrap in a box. They knew a girl who was looking for a couple to adopt her baby that was due in May.

After a phone conversation and some weeks of waiting, we ended up meeting this 18-year-old girl who was an answer to our prayers. I had prayed and cried and hoped and wanted to be pregnant. But, really, God knew the desire of my heart. I wanted a family. I actually didn't care anything about being pregnant. I just thought that's how I was "supposed" to have a family. Those years of praying were heard. I didn't even pray the "right" words, but God still knew. And he worked while I waited. And when the time was right, God answered my prayer in a way that surprised me.

Turns out, we were an answer to this girl's prayers too. She told us that when we looked via ultrasound at the baby growing in her belly and in our hearts in January 2007. She said it again over lunch that spring. I still tell her how grateful we are that she chose life for this baby who made me a momma.

God surprised me in one of the best ways of my life. That adoption process and the harder days of infertility leading up to it were a faith journey for me. I still like to tell the story because it's full of God's faithfulness and details that remind me He's the author of stories better than any I could script.
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I'm linking up today as part of the "Out of the Blue" series at Chasing Blue Skies. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Like 152 Insights on Facebook. Or follow me on Twitter.

{Compassion} Life in community

"They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved."

{Acts 2:42-47}

I've learned about community by living in it. I have four close friends who I text almost daily and usually see at least once a week, if not more often. I have a couple other dear friends who I would see regularly, if they just lived closer. I have ongoing conversation with one via email and am usually engaged in a game of phone tag with the other. Then there is a bigger circle of friends from church and who are friends of my closest friends with whom I share life  on a less frequent but still regular basis.

These are the people who brought me meals when we brought babies home. They are the ones who text me just to check on me. They are the ones I ask to help me with my kids when I need to go to the doctor and my mother-in-law isn't available. We brainstorm and problem solve and dream. We tackle frustrations. We organize parties and events. We pray for each other. Our kids don't know live apart from each other. We share dinners and game nights around my kitchen table. Sometimes our kids even share strep throat.

We share life. 

And it's in living like this that I learned the value of serving one another. God got my attention in the everyday moments through texts and phone calls, while sitting on the park bench watching our kids play, around the dinner table, and at baby showers and birthday parties. I want to help them when my friends are sick or stressed. I want to have their kids in my house. I want to make room for on my calendar. I want to give to them and learn from them.

It's because of these same relationships I'm spurred on to help others outside my tribe of people. Some of my favorite people to help are little ones who remind me of my own kids yet live lives in such different conditions in other countries. Sponsoring kids through Compassion International has become part of our life in community. These kids we've never met yet love already have found their ways into a birthday party and a church service. And their pictures are hanging from my real-life friends' refrigerators.

Won't you consider opening your community to these little people who need an extra dose of love?

Sponsor a Child

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I'm linking this post with fellow Compassion Bloggers sharing which Bible verses prompt them to serve others. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Like 152 Insights on Facebook. Or follow me on Twitter.

{#TellHisStory} Run your race

Yesterday at Madeira Beach, Florida.

We were going to run almost a mile from the condo that was ours for four nights to that green condo down

the beach. And back. As music spurred me on, I continually glanced toward the green condo and was tempted to turn around when we were almost there. The excuses filled my head: Running almost to the green condo is better than not running at all. I'm just doing this for myself, what does it matter how far I run? I still have to run back to our condo, so it's better to turn around now.

While these things are true, they aren't the Truth.

Then I noticed my shins weren't hurting like they had been back home on asphalt. Score another point for the beach being a good retreat for me. The sand gave my shins a break from feeling like they were pounding into Kentucky pavement. This fact gave me a burst of energy. Had you been running along side of me, you may not have actually been able to see it. But I could feel it. Inside myself.

Nothing God says in the Bible applies directly to how far I should/could/would run. But he does promise to finish what he's started. He does ask us to take care of bodies, where his spirit dwells. And he gives hope.

So as much as I wanted to, I didn't turn around early. I even made it by the flock of birds that I feared would fly near my head. {That's my husband threatening to scare them away as he runs in front of me. That is love.}

While I felt the tiredness in my legs, God reminded me that he'll replace our anxiety with his peace as we press through the temptation to quit. He'll be on the other side. He'll be there when it's time to turn around. And he'll be there when we're tired from yet relieved with finishing what we started.

Take heart, friends. Run through the finish line. 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow wearing and lose heart. 

{Hebrews 12:1-3}

Yes, glance ahead and know what's coming and where you're going. Maybe even give yourself a chance of scenery. But trust the maker of it all to get you there, past your fears, with earthly support by your side. The victory is coming because it's already won. A few nails sealed it. Today is the beginning of Lent, a season that anticipates the resurrection of our savior. What better time to commit to run the race before us. 

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I'm linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and other storytellers. #TellHisStory is a chance to tell a story that connects your story to God's story. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Like 152 Insights on Facebook. Or follow me on Twitter.

{God-sized Dreams} Saying no ...

We have some household practices to protect our time together.

Our kids don't watch much TV and when they do, it's usually a DVD or a show on Netflix. And I'm picky about what I let them watch. Before we go see a movie, I read about it on Plugged In. {Mommas, if you've never used this site to read thorough reviews of movies, I highly recommend it.} And my kids get it. They know I think "Spongebob" has a bad tone and that I'm not ready for my adopted daughter to watch Rapunzel be raised by a woman who didn't birth her {She needs to understand adoption more before a twisted adoption story that's really more like kidnapping.} in "Tangled."

We waited until Cate was almost 5 to sign her up for any extra-curricular activity. She wanted to do ballet so we agreed to let her do the 45-minute classes once a week four months before her fifth birthday. That overlapped for a couple weeks with t-ball, but we have a general "one activity at a time" practice. It's for our kids and for us parents too.

We like to sit down for dinner together. Our kids are better behaved when they get their 11 hours of sleep at night. {I know this will change as they get older, but going to bed around 7 p.m. is where we are.} My girl started going to bed earlier {in the 7 o'clock hour instead of the 8 o'clock hour} when she started kindergarten in August because she was worn out from the full days at school. When we know we're going to be later than their usual bedtime getting home, like when we go to Racers basketball games, we try to incorporate some rest time.

Valuing our time as a family and what's in the best interest of our kids, we sometimes have to say no or make different arrangements. {The way we do it may look nothing like the way you do it. And that's OK.}

This is what came to mind when Holley Gerth encouraged us God-sized dreamers to "decide what you will decrease in your life so your God-sized dream has more room to increase. What do you need to say “no” or “not now” or “not so much” to so your dream can thrive? Sometimes even what’s good can crowd out what’s best."

Maybe you're wondering what this parenting philosophy has to do with my God-sized dreams? Well, there is asterisk next to my dreams of writing, adopting and living out this mission: I believe God has created and called me to communicate stories from my own life and others' lives for families to know God as the author and creator of every detail through writing, promoting and serving. But, more importantly, I believe God has called me to be a wife and mom first. Both of those roles are best lived out when I'm available and with my family.

Yes, I volunteer some time to serve on the board at my daughter's small, private school. But I don't serve on other boards I once did. I sometimes go eat a meal or scrapbook with my friends ... and without my kids, but it's a special treat.We plan lots of trips and activities to do together. We spend time with our friends and their families. We like to share our dinner table with others.

Yes, Cate is signed up to play t-ball in April, and we're looking forward to watching her games this spring and summer. Ben wants to play, I'm sure, because he wants to do anything she's doing, but he'll have to wait until he's a little older.

And while they're in school or playing nicely together {hey, it happens ...}, I'll write. When my husband is working while sit together on the couch once the kids have gone to bed, I may write. But the laptop is closed when it's time to eat dinner around our table and I'm learning how to step away when my family needs/wants me.

Our dinners aren't perfect. We often tell Ben to sit down. Cate always seems to have to use the bathroom right as I put the plates on the table. I often have reached a tired time of the day just before Greg walks through the door from work. But we're together. We're in this life together. And, really, that's the most important thing. I want to remember that saying "no" is sometimes really saying "yes."
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Tuesdays are God-sized Dream days around here and I'm linking this post along with many, many other dreamers on Holley Gerth's blog. You'll find encouragement, truth and community there. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Like 152 Insights on Facebook. Or follow me on Twitter.

Ben's big boy bedroom

Taaa-daaa! This is Ben introducing you to his new room. He's been sleeping up there a couple weeks now, but momma was behind on taking pictures. Pardon whatever is going on with his sorts. That what my 3-year-old boy looks like after dressing himself. Hey, he did it himself. 

So, anyway, mostly I was just ready to move him. He was outgrowing his nursery room, which is the smallest bedroom in our house. Plus, that room was right next to the main bathroom, so some mornings he woke up earlier than he would have if he hadn't heard Daddy getting ready for work.

Your Love Never Fails

We're in the middle of enjoying a long weekend in Florida, where my extended family gathered for my cousin's wedding. A beach wedding in February?! Yes, PLEASE, especially when you're a Kentucky girl like me.

So until regular posts resume, I give you this song that I turn up loud when it comes on the radio, which is often, and I have since downloaded so I can listen to whenever my heart pleases.


There is so much truth in it.

Nothing can separate us from God. {Romans 8:38-39}

God's love never fails. {Psalm 136}

His mercies are new every day. {Lamentations 3:22-23}

God stays the same through the ages. {Hebrews 13:8} And his love never changes.

Joy comes in the morning. {Psalm 30:5}

We don't have to be afraid. {Isaiah 41:10}

God loves us. {John 3:16} And his love never fails.

God makes all things work together for our good. {Romans 8:28}

Do you have a favorite song that encourages you these days?
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Weekend Words

The Joneses are Overrated :: I thought this Proverbs 31 devotion addressed a real, ongoing issue in our society while speaking everlasting truth. "When we cease making comparisons and instead willingly embrace our current lot in life, welcoming all that God will teach us through it, we will finally unearth the secret Paul knew. True contentment is not merely having what you want, it is wanting nothing more than what you already have."

What's Your Signature Struggle? :: This made me think about how what we fear most is near to what we want to protect and cherish most. Makes sense. Once again, Holley Gerth spoke to my heart like she was sitting at my kitchen table.
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{No More Perfect Moms} Get real!

I'd say Jill Savage wrote "No More Perfect Moms" just for me, but as part of the book's launch team and Holley Gerth's God-sized Dream Team, I've learned I'm not alone in both craving perfection and wanting to rid my life of perfection. It's in this spirit of community I've invited fellow mommas to share their imperfect lives this week. 

Today is the last day you can have a "mom university" delivered right to your computer when you buy Jill Savage's "No More Perfect Moms." Buy the book and receive FREE resources worth more than $100. This works even if you buy the Kindle version. Here is the list of what you'll get when you email your receipt to NoMorePerfectMoms@moody.edu.

Elly Gilbert is another member of the "No More Perfect Moms" launch team. And she's a fellow Kentuckian! I'm glad she took me up on my idea to swap blog posts and is sharing here today. 


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When I was a teenager in a previous century, the phrase “Get real!” was a common comeback used to remind your buddies they need a reality check. It was a sarcastic barb tossed around as we waded through the malarkey of high school. It was such a popular saying, it spawned a movie and a TV series of the same name.  It was a slang term, making light of someone’s pie in the sky idealism.

Now, as a mostly-grown-up wife and mom, I have to encourage myself to “Get real!” quite often, but I do it in a much different spirit. Now, getting real is less of a tongue-in-cheek retort and more of a mantra for living an authentic life. Now, getting real means seeing myself as who I truly am -- a redeemed child of the King and a reformed perfectionist.

Getting real means forgiving myself when dinner doesn’t quite turn out to look like the image on Pinterest. Getting real means loving my kids through their messes and mistakes. Getting real means swallowing my pride and inviting friends over to my slightly-less-than-Martha-Stewart home. Getting real means giving grace. Getting real means accepting grace, too.

For most of my adult life, I’ve held myself to an unrealistic standard of perfection. My kids should behave perfectly in public, as they wear their perfectly pressed matching outfits, of course. My home should be gracious and inviting. Dinner should be well balanced and picture perfect. I should be a respected and beloved teacher in my school. I should never be late or disappoint anyone at church as I lead Bible studies and participated in women’s ministry activities. I should be the perfect wife, too. Can’t forget that!

Unfortunately, reality has looked quite a bit different than I had hoped it would. As a result of my drive for perfection, I have missed out on many joyful moments with my family. My failed attempts at perfection made not only me miserable, but my family, too! It has taken some time and prayer on my part to realize that I would have to “get real” with myself. Instead of relentlessly pursuing perfection -- and finding myself woefully inadequate -- I will embrace the real moments and enjoy real life.

When that perfection bug starts to bite, I have to remind myself to “get real.” There may be flour on the floor and sticky fingerprints on my backdoor, but my kids are happy. The smudges of chocolate on their faces and traces of marker on their fingers are from the cookies we baked and the pictures we colored together.  I might have a pile of mismatched socks taller than me, but I have time for an impromptu dance party in the living room. 

I wish I’d started “getting real” years ago.

Elly Gilbert is a majorly imperfect but decidedly “real” wife, high school English teacher, friend, and mom living in the heart of Bluegrass Country. When she isn’t chasing her 6-year-old twin boys or having a girls’ day out with her 8-year-old mini-me daughter, she’s probably crocheting, cooking, reading, or napping. Elly blogs, albeit inconsistently, at http://theunquietlife.blogspot.com.  

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Disclaimer: Compensated affiliate link used, but most of you know by now that embracing imperfection is the theme of my year and "No More Perfect Moms" has been a huge part of that. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Or follow me on Twitter.

{Five Minute Friday} Bare

I'm participating in Five Minute Friday, a link-up writing prompt at Lisa-Jo Baker's blog. This week the prompt is "Bare ..." 

Five minutes starts now. GO ... 

Usually when I volunteer at Cate's school, I help with making copies, cutting pieces for preschool craft projects, or other administrative-type chores. This is much more in line with my strengths than in-classroom projects. There also was that time I decorated a door. Whew.

Today I did some copying and cutting, but I also sat with the four kindergartners and listened as they read books. It was my girl and three boys. And I loved the sweet sound of their voices speaking the words. Some words came out naturally, others were newer and created some verbal stumbles.

And I had the fleeting thought about how hard our language probably seems to these new readers. Take homophones, for instance.

Like bare. And bear.

There are so many that come up in their little books. Red/read. Won/one. Blue/blue. Two/too/to. There/their/they're.

But they're learning. Reading, like most anything in life, is a process. It's such a skill that even now is changing their lives. They can read signs. And books. Their world is opening.


STOP.

Want to join us? Here are Lisa-Jo's rules: 1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. 2. Link back here and invite others to join in. 3. Please visit the person who linked up before you and encourage them in their comments. That is like the one rule we all really care about. For reals.

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{No More Perfect Moms} Chasing Perfect

I'd say Jill Savage wrote "No More Perfect Moms" just for me, but as part of the book's launch team and Holley Gerth's God-sized Dream Team, I've learned I'm not alone in both craving perfection and wanting to rid my life of perfection. It's in this spirit of community I've invited fellow mommas to share their imperfect lives this week. 

Also this week you can have a "mom university" delivered right to your computer when you buy Jill Savage's "No More Perfect Moms." Buy the book and receive FREE resources worth more than $100. This works even if you buy the Kindle version. Here is the list of what you'll get when you email your receipt to NoMorePerfectMoms@moody.edu.

Let's welcome Emily Simmons here today. She's part of the God-sized Dream Team with me and I've enjoyed the grace and real-life moments she shares on her blog. 

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It's been a big, hairy crabbypants day. I haven't showered and I am covered in kid snot and bits of food. My hair is an unbelievable wreck (and has been for the past few months ... is it possible to have a bad hair year?). Mountains of laundry stand piled in the living room. The kitchen is full of dirty dishes and crumbs. The bathrooms need to be scrubbed. The floor desperately needs a vacuum. I haven't watched anything but Transformers, Power Rangers and iCarly all week.

I have worked full-time outside of the home, but being a stay-at-home mom is the most challenging job I've ever had.

When I was pregnant with my first child, my head was filled with shiny dreams of heartwarming moments, organized closets, tidy rooms and impeccably clean floors. On top of all that, we'd eat healthy delicious home-cooked meals each evening around our cozy table. I'd also find time to stay fit and indulge in my hobbies and wear something besides yoga pants.

How long have I chased those dreams of perfect?

Perfection is a myth, a fog that disorients and suffocates the well-meaning among us as we chase fleeting, changing images that dissolve into mist.

At the end of that long, grimy day as I cleaned up bowls of spaghetti and meatballs, a marinara-covered child hugged my leg. "I love that sketti, Mom! Thank you for makin' yummy sketti for me."

Grace.

Like a sweet rain, washing away the all the dirty residue of a long, exhausting day.

Children don't ask for perfect moms. They don't dream of impeccably clean floors or organized closets. Children need moms who are present and loving. Gentle touches to soothe boo-boos and warm arms to comfort fears. Soft words to heal a hurting heart and laughter to wash away worries.

So, sweet imperfect mama, stop chasing those misty illusions of perfect. That's not the mama your children need.

Your children just need you. All of you.

Bad hair and dirty floors and yoga pants and kid snot and all.
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Emily Simmons is a mother of two children and wife to a youth director living in Tampa, FL. She is addicted to true crime shows, Little Debbies and whales. She blogs about her crazy funny family and life at Emily Says. You can also follow her on Twitter and like Emily Says on Facebook. 
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Disclaimer: Compensated affiliate link used, but most of you know by now that embracing imperfection is the theme of my year and "No More Perfect Moms" has been a huge part of that. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Or follow me on Twitter.

{No More Perfect Moms} On Being Perfect

I'd say Jill Savage wrote "No More Perfect Moms" just for me, but as part of the book's launch team and Holley Gerth's God-sized Dream Team, I've learned I'm not alone in both craving perfection and wanting to rid my life of perfection. It's in this spirit of community I've invited fellow mommas to share their imperfect lives this week. 

Also this week you can have a "mom university" delivered right to your computer when you buy Jill Savage's "No More Perfect Moms." Buy the book and receive FREE resources worth more than $100. Here is the list of what you'll get when you email your receipt to NoMorePerfectMoms@moody.edu.

Tonya Garrick is a God-sized Dream buddy of mine. She's a momma to boys and waiting on her adopted girl to come home. I love adoption stories, so I'm glad I've gotten a chance to start following hers. Let's welcome her here today!
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I remember when our oldest son was born, twelve years ago today. The “perfect mama” chase began. He deserved only the best, right? Then I realized that I am far from perfect, so this was going to be a challenge.

So many days of feeling guilty for his crying, his colds, his diaper rash, my frustration, my lack of sleep. (Why couldn’t I be more disciplined?)

I’ve realized over the years that this child of mine has turned me into a mother. I wasn’t a mother before. How could I be prepared? Our days together were not perfect, but so much better.

"The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him."

{Lamentations 3:22-24}

Then a second son was born. Boy, was he different. Here we go again! He was much more loud and needy. And different. Why couldn’t I figure out what he needed? What was wrong with me? I’m a pretty smart girl, I mean, really. The doctors didn’t seem too worried, but I knew. He wasn’t just a late bloomer. Cue the feelings of self-doubt and insecurity. I should have known sooner. My other son needs more attention, too.  Pile on the guilt.

Oh, it’s Sensory Processing Disorder? Autism? Oh. 

Now what? I’ll tell you.

This was the time (after the fall apart) that I realized something. My children were not a surprise to Him. Babies cry, they get sick, they fall down, they grow. They survive. We learn as we go. There’s no other way.  Autism did not surprise Him. He knew my boy was a quirky, hilarious, sensitive guy. He knew my oldest son would make the perfect big brother.

My abilities are no surprise to Him. He knows I’m impatient and flighty. (And goofy.)  He gave me these boys to parent right now, with all of their needs, with all of my needs. Because according to Him (and He knows better than me), I’m their perfect mother.
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Tonya is a southern girl who loves her family, coffee, traveling and a good book. Tonya and Sean have been married for 15 years and have two wonderful boys and one beautiful daughter waiting in Korea. A mom to a son with special needs, Tonya enjoys sharing her life experiences with others. Their family’s goal is to live out their faith daily.

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Disclaimer: Compensated affiliate link used, but most of you know by now that embracing imperfection is the theme of my year and "No More Perfect Moms" has been a huge part of that. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Or follow me on Twitter.

{No More Perfect Moms} Remembering my worth and then laughing

Two fellow moms from Jill Savage's "No More Perfect Moms" launch team took me up on my invitation to swap posts sharing how we embrace imperfection. You've heard Wani's story earlier this week. Elly will share hers later this week. 

Continuing the "No More Perfect Moms" hype, I have stories on both their blogs today.
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... While observing this and trying not to think about how I just didn’t feel great, I said to my husband, “This house will never been clean again.”
Without hesitation, he said, “That’s alright.”

Then I realized he didn’t reassure me cleanliness and organization that meet my often-too-high standards would happen. But he did reassure me that my worth as a wife and mom wasn’t found in my housekeeping habits.

The crumbs will get swept. The piles will be organized and given and stored. Our heater is fixed and those dishes have been unloaded so others could be loaded. The laundry is a never-ending cycle, but, hey, I love these people who need to be clothed. ...

Go read the rest at Wani's World. 
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For five years, eight months and 23 days my daughter has misunderstood her middle name. 

We named her on our 4 ½-hour drive home the day we met her birth mom. God affirmed our adoption plan and relationship with her birth mom through so many details, including her name. Catherine Anna. Catherine for my mom and Anna for my husband’s grandma. Turns out Catherine is her birth mom’s middle name and Anna resembles part of her first name.

We call her Cate. But we often say “Catherine Anna” in both endearing and attention-getting tones. Plus she knows her initials spell C.A.T. I always attributed her liking of cats – other people’s and fictional ones because we don’t do pets, especially ones that make Momma and Daddy sneeze, here  in this house – to her initials.

So when she came home from kindergarten with her name written incorrectly, I couldn’t stop laughing. ...

Finish this story at The Unquiet Life. {Elly also has a giveaway going on that will land "No More Perfect Moms" in someone's hands!}

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Buy "No More Perfect Moms" this week and receive FREE resources worth more than $100. This works if you buy the Kindle version too. Here is the list of what you'll get when you email your receipt to NoMorePerfectMoms@moody.edu. Disclosure: Compensated affiliate link used. Want more? Subscribe to get "Insights" in your inbox. Or follow me on Twitter.