women

It’s been a long time since I wrote on this little blog of mine, and I feel like I owe you all an explanation. Things were booming in this project of mine.  I went viral for a bit.  I even got recognized in public. That’s a super weird experience by the way. But then it just…stopped… Not the shares, or the likes, or the stats of the blog. Me.  I stopped. Life went haywire for me shortly after my post went viral.  One day….one day….I will share in great detail about what I went through in 2016.  It’s not completely my story to tell.  There are other people involved, and I want to have full disclosure when I am finally able to let it all out. But it’s not really their story either.  It’s God’s story. I had to learn some things in 2016.  In order to do that, God had to take some things away from me.  One of those things was my desire to write. Stories wouldn’t come.  My fingers wouldn’t work.  I would log into my site and sit blankly in front of a screen.  Nothing.  No inspiration. And those feelings are confusing.  I thought I was

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The other night at a baby shower for some sweet friends, we seasoned parents were asked to give some advice to the newbies. Being the OG mom in the group, I had some sage advice for my friends as they embark on this insane trip of parenthood.  As I’ve thought more about it, and at the urging of some friends who enjoy my parenthood mishaps on social media, I decided to come up with the ultimate list of parenthood tips for you today. Now, let’s get one thing clear – I am not a parenting expert.  I am probably a pretty terrible parent by textbook standards.  I raise my voice probably a bit too much, and I also am not very consistent in my discipline at times.  My kids love McDonald’s, and we’ve watched Trolls fifteen times this week.  Our kids went to bed way too late last night because we just couldn’t drag ourselves away from Flip or Flop long enough for bedtime routines (three cheers for the pause button).  I don’t do things right all the time, but honestly, I don’t really care.  Which leads me to point number one… 1. Don’t listen to anyone else.  Ever.  (Ok, well except

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I have too long neglected this blog of mine.  I’m going to try to be better.  Regular life consumes you, you know?  My kids are insane, my job is demanding, and I have to have some peace.  Writing used to be my peace, and now I’m going to make it happen again. As of recently, I’ve been a bit outspoken about the current political and social climate.  Ok, so that’s not actually “recently.”  I’ve always been this way. My poor mother.  I think I’m slowly killing her.  I’ve apologized multiple times to her because she unwillingly gave birth to an activist. For those of you who I am friends with (and my equally poor family) who are starting to believe that I’ve gone off the liberal deep-end, I want to explain how I arrived at my certain set of conclusions. Disclaimer:  I’m not baiting anyone with this post.  If you respond to this with anything other than civil discord, please use the backspace button liberally.  I am simply offering an ideology that explains me, my viewpoints, and my beliefs.  I’m not trying to change your mind about anything.  There’s this cool thing about the internet:  you can see something you disagree

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It’s been a year since my post To My Husband in this Weird Phase of Life went viral. And by viral, I mean it has had over 500,000 views on my blog alone, not counting the over 1 million views on other websites that picked it up.  I would love to be able to know exactly how many Facebook shares it has had, but I can only guess that it’s over 300k.  It was the most shared and viewed post on For Every Mom for 2015. That’s mind-blowing. I’ve never painted myself as a perfect person.  I make mistakes.  A lot of mistakes.  I’ve never painted my marriage as perfect.  We have to work really really hard for our marriage not to crumble and fall to pieces.  It has not been easy for us.  By no means do I believe I am any sort of expert on marriage, parenting, Christianity, or life in general.  I’m just me, writing words down as I feel them and life as I experience it. It’s amazing what honesty will do for a person.  In conversation with a colleague one day, I said something to the effect of that I don’t really care what people

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Sometimes motherhood can make you really raw. This kind of raw hurts.  It exposes parts of you that you didn’t know existed, and if you did know about them, you fought really hard to keep them quiet.  But they all come out when the mothering starts. Maybe it’s your bear side fiercely protecting your children in ways that your friends and family might feel are a bit wigged out. Maybe it’s your crazy side who popped up when you stepped on the third lego this morning. Maybe it’s your scary side that appears like a werewolf with gnashing teeth when your kid screams for an hour about eating pork chops. Maybe it’s your lazy side that cuts corners with baths and vegetables and hair brushing. Maybe it’s the realization that maybe you just don’t like parenting very much.  You like your kids.  But you just don’t like parenting. Whatever it is, we all have it.  There’s not a mother around who can honestly say she’s never lost her ever-loving mind with her kids about something really stupid like losing doll shoes that you told her not to take off, or soaking his shirt in the dog’s water bowl five seconds before you need to

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I know you’ve seen the news story by now of Stanford swimmer, Brock Turner, who raped an unconscious woman laying behind a dumpster after a party. If you’ve heard about that, you’ve also heard about how he’s only receiving 6 months in jail as punishment because the judge felt that a longer sentence would have too serious of an impact on him, as a 19 year old boy. If this doesn’t make you physically sick to your stomach, you probably won’t like the rest of what I’m about to say. Because I am disgusted. Before you read anything else, I suggest that you read the victim’s statement here. It’s powerful, it’s poignant, and she deserves to be heard – for herself and all rape victims. I am not a rape victim. I’ve never been sexually assaulted, save the one guy who decided to try to stick his hand up my dress on Bourbon Street, to which I promptly had him and his friends kicked out of the bar. I don’t pretend to know how rape victims feel or how they live the rest of their lives permanently scarred from an unwelcomed encounter, and the subsequent unwelcomed criticism about their situation. Because

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It was placed on my heart to tell you this today.  I don’t know who you are, or what you’re going through, but we’ve all been there in some form or fashion.  I hope you find what you’re looking for in these words. It hurts today. I know it does. Someone took a cheese grater to your heart and left you with the shreds. I don’t pretend to know what you’re going through today.  It can be so many different things – a fight with your husband, an issue with a child, work problems, heartache, disappointment, betrayal, a loss, heavy decisions, or just a plain ole bad day.  Each one of us has something different that we attempt to smile through every morning. Some days are better than others.  Some days, you wake up and you think, “Ok, I can do this!”  Your mind is clear, your heart is steady, and you feel ok to laugh.  You see a glimmer of hope and promise that you can cling to for the moment. Some days are worse than others.  Some days, you wake up and wonder just how much more you can take before you absolutely crumble to the floor in a pile

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So it turns out morbid curiosity is not limited to my four year old. In a conversation with some other moms, I learned that they are all starting to realize that death and pain are real things, and I was asked how I handle such things in our house.  I told them that I focus not on grasping the difficult concepts of the theologies of our faith, but stating simple facts about what we believe.  “If you believe in Jesus, you will go to Heaven,” and I answer questions the best I know how to, without terrifying her of the grave realities that mark our faith.  Childlike faith is encouraged by Jesus, and I believe that means believing words given to you by someone you wholly trust. The more thought I give to it, the more I realize that I am a much bigger part of the puzzle than I previously recognized. I speak often of the cultivation that we are to bring to the wide open fields that are our children.  How God has entrusted us to minister to our children by making Biblical decision for our families, and pushing towards a Christ-like atmosphere in which to raise our

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To many modern day feminists, the words “Christian feminist” will automatically seem like an oxymoron.  I can hear it now.  How can a religion that boasts suppressing women and orders them to be submissive to their husbands be a religion that also allows for feminine power?  To those points, I have several arguments to how they just aren’t true, but that’s a post for another day. There’s also a viral post about not being a feminist, that I take some issue with.  I’m going to chalk it up to the author of that article being a little immature and under-experienced. But there absolutely is such a thing as a Christian Feminist.  I am one.  I am proud to say it.  I may not hit these marks 100% of the time, but I strive daily. A Christian Feminist is a woman who recognizes the design of an Ultimate Creator, who created man and woman differently, and called them both “very good.”  God found that it was not good for man to be alone, so He designed a woman to be his counterpart, his companion, and his helpmate.  With that natural and very good design, women were created to be everything that

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So I have to tell you a funny story.  I think a little humor is needed on this blog of mine.  Levity is good. I wasn’t going to tell anyone this story.  But I’ve told a few people, they’ve all laughed, and the judgment has been small.  Everyone who knows me completely understands how this would happen to me.  And the more I live it over again in my mind, the more I realize just how funny it is.  I’m getting less and less embarrassed by this and more encouraged to tell it to you, to hopefully make you laugh on this Monday. I fully understand the risk I am taking of you never looking at me the same way ever again. I was changing clothes to get ready for church last Wednesday afternoon.  I was texting both my mom and Ben at the same time.  Mind you, Ben is in the living room a mere ten feet away while I am in the bedroom. I had a brief moment of spontaneity and thought it would be hilarious to send Ben a picture of my butt. Now, before I go on, let me tell you:  This is highly unusual for me.

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