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health & wellness household management marriage

To simplify the bedroom.

I’ve been back in school for three years now. Combine the workload with my day job as a nurse with a season of raising small children with the personality of an introvert, and it’s easy to see how my bedroom became a sanctuary. My husband painted it white for me as soon as we moved in. We went with simple bedding, minimal furniture, no pictures, no clutter. The kids know to always knock first if the door is closed. We don’t even have a lock on that thing. They don’t even touch the doorknob.

I spent hours reading my Bible there, typing out papers, and reading for pleasure before bed. But there were also naps and conference calls that weren’t necessary. There were also black holes of internet scrolling with the blankets pulled up to my chin in the middle of the afternoon.

For some folks, the bedroom might be an helpful spot for a home office or destination getaway. For me, over the last few years, my bedroom became home base. Remember playing tag as a child? If I could just get to home base, I’d be immune and safe. I could close the door and disconnect. It was easy to use my mom voice, “I need a minute – please leave me alone.” But that minute turned into an hour or more, valuable time that could be spent doing more to fill my soul and less to focus on myself and how hard this season is.

So in 2019, the bedroom changes. I still need a space to sneak away for a minute when needed, sure. But I don’t need a black hole in which to numb. My kids understand the complexity of our family’s schedules and respectfully give me time and space whenever I ask, but there’s no good or healthy reason for me to disappear for hours on end to my bed.

Practically speaking, here’s what it looks like for me…

A technology-free bedroom. My phone is out. I bought an alarm clock on Amazon and removed the phone charger from my side of the bed. Sometimes I take calls in there if I need quiet, but I try to park my phone on the hall table every time I walk into my room. It charges in the adjacent room at night, ringer on high for emergencies. Additionally, my computer is out. No more school work in bed. I sit in the dining room with the door closed if I need to concentrate, but I try to do most of my work in the kitchen where my kids can access me if needed.

A task-free bedroom. I no longer take whatever I’m working on into my bedroom. This could be eating, or meal-planning, or reading my Bible. I’m spending a lot more time in the den, even if nobody else is at home. I’m trying to build healthy habits and take up healthy space in my house.

To simplify the bedroom is to engage in spiritual warfare. For me, at least. I know what happens if I lie horizontal too long. I know what happens when all of my lines get blurred and routines run together. Life begins to feel foggy, and I lose sight of the God who called me to this life and sustains me to keep at it.

And so, I fight. I sit upright and read my Bible and find my Heavenly Father in its pages. I plant my rear end on a hard chair to type papers and count the days until graduation. I choose to only participate in sleep and sex (and an occasional argument or two) in my bed, to protect my space and my heart and my family. My bedroom is still a sanctuary, but now the whole house is too. Because my God is big and powerful like that.

health & wellness life lately

thoughts on breaks from the internet.

I’ve been online, in some capacity, for more than two decades. I played games on dial-up in the 90’s, I started blogging in 2003, and I’ve loved social media since its inception. After babies, though, I realized how easy it was to use the internet as an escape. I could numbly scroll through news headlines or cloth diaper sales pages (it’s real) and forget about how much money we didn’t have or how many hours I’d have to work the next day or whether or not I’d be able to pump enough milk.

I have learned so much from being online. So much. I’ve always been a voracious reader, but having articles and blogs and think pieces at my fingertips has just taken me to a next level. Drake released a new album. Do we think he’s really talking about XXXTentacion in that one track? Ominous blurbs about China and Canada filter through my car radio. What actually is a trade war, and are we in one? A patient swears she doesn’t use cocaine and thinks her marijuana might have been laced when her drug screen comes back positive. Is that possible? Beth Moore writes a powerful open letter to her brothers in Christ, calling them out and up. Historically, what is the Southern Baptist Convention’s track record with their treatment of women?

Skincare. Fashion. Theology. Parenting. Medicine. Google is one of my best friends. And if you come at me with some outlandish headline, I will definitely Snopes it on the go.

And don’t even get me started about social media! I learn more, laugh more, grow more, and love more than I ever could have imagined, just from connecting with others through platforms like Twitter and Instagram. Old friends stay close and best friends point me to Jesus, every single time I open those apps.

But along the way, it became apparent that I’d need to build some boundaries. My parents had obviously grown up without the internet, and my friends were on the front lines next to me. How much time is too much time? Where to keep my phone at night? When to delete apps and take a break? Who to follow and unfollow? How to talk about my kids online? How do I want to feel when I get on and then hop off again?

The weekend break was, and still is, a great idea. I try to delete social media apps from my phone for at least a day or two each week. Turning off all (ALL) of my notifications helped, too. I still stick to that one. Whatever it is, I’ll find out about it when I sign on. Lastly, being intentional about who to follow and what to click became a priority. I try to only consume that which is life-giving, whether online or off. But even with all of these safeguards, anxiety crept in now and again. A general, unsettled feeling settled upon me as soon as I posted something, or when I anticipated checking in again.

So I started taking real breaks. One month last summer. Christmas Break. Special trips or adventures. Another month this summer. And I got hooked. Whenever I go dark, I go all in. I leave my phone behind, forget the world, get lost in the moment. It’s an incredible feeling. Intoxicating, almost. I once told someone it felt like being the only sober person at a party on a yacht at sunset, when everyone else was partying too hard to soak up the vibe.

But there’s a dark side to going dark, and this is something I rarely mention. I ignore the news. I miss a friend’s birthday. I don’t return texts on time. It’s sort of like getting a scary bill in the mail and quietly placing it, unopened, in a drawer. I base each day off of how I’m feeling, how I want to feel. Is there a thing as being too self-aware? Because getting caught up in one’s feelings and thoughts is certainly real.

I think what I’m saying is, I make my internet breaks all about me. I get away for the right reasons, but I want to stay away for the wrong ones.

I do not have an answer for this dilemma. I do not think I can find it on Google. Here is what I do know. I know that the Bible has answers to everything, answers that never go out of style. That book has taught me so much about work and rest and people and life management and how to keep my soul healthy. And so, I know that I will continue to stay online and stay on guard. I know that there is no such thing as balance. I know that the internet is incredibly useful and most likely here for my forever. I know that I lean towards introverted selfishness when left to my own fleshly devices.

I know that rest is important, and that pausing to check my heart and soul and mind is crucial to my lifelong mission of making Jesus known. But I know that too much navel-gazing makes me dizzy. It leads me straight into walls, or onto my head. I also know that when Jesus pulled away to rest, he was always interrupted. He rolled with it, and it changed the world.

health & wellness the whole & simple gospel

when I write for others: Upwrite Magazine

Occasionally, I get to write for magazines, newsletters, blogs, and everything in between. It’s neat to go back and read my words from another time. There’s always room for grace and growth and a smile or head nod. Here’s a piece from December 2016.

I figured I might as well start my self-care journey in the bathtub. It sounded like the most obvious (bubble baths! candles!), and it just so happened to be the very spot where I’d experienced suicidal thoughts just a few months before. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I married, inherited and/or birthed six children, built and sold and bought a couple of houses, started my career as a nurse, and jumped into vocational ministry alongside my husband, all in a span of five years. If it sounds like a lot, of course it was. It absolutely was. But it just didn’t feel like it – not at the time. I’ve always wanted to be a grown woman with a man and a job and some kids. I’ve always been a high-capacity, keep-my-plate-full kind of girl. So I just went about my business one day at a time, until I broke.

I hit rock bottom one cold winter morning, after a few months of mild depression and a few precipitating events. My husband sent me to take a bath after I blew up at one of my daughters, and I found myself thinking of all the ways my family would be better off without me. After entertaining dangerous thoughts for a few minutes, I sent my husband a text. I need help. I don’t feel safe. He immediately went into action, and I’m forever grateful for his initiative.

Over the next few months, we walked a beautiful, painful, and simple road together. I started therapy and I cleared my social calendar. I said no a lot that year. I only attended counseling, church and small group, and family events. I fought hard to find joy when I looked into my kids’ faces and by God’s grace, I found it. I also dove head-first into the idea of self-care. It felt unbelievably exhilarating to get a little self-indulgent and spend more time on myself than ever before. And I had permission, nonetheless!

Like I said, I started with the bathtub. There were weekly bubble baths and face masks and magazines and candles. I did a lot of online shopping, and my husband made room in the budget for biweekly manicures. I practiced yoga for the first time ever, several nights per week in my bedroom. There was a lot of introspection and belly gazing. All of those things sound luxurious and amazing now, so it might sound crazy to say that they were hard at first. But depression is a beast. Back then, the bubble baths and the manicures actually had to be put on a list and checked off. They required effort. After awhile, though, I developed a sense of discipline with my regimens and my boundaries and my schedule. Those things became easier. They each tell a small part of my redemptive story of healing now, but I didn’t do everything right during that season. In fact, I got a big chunk of it dead wrong.

Somewhere along the way, I fell for the lie that said self-care started and stopped with me. I fell for the lie that said I had to look out for myself, that nobody else had and nobody else would. I fell for the lie that said I could somehow achieve my way to peace and wholeness, by being more disciplined and taking better care of myself. Looking back, I think my problem lay in my own definition of self-care. It was too small.

Self-care is about so much more than self. For me, it is the exploration of two key ideas. First, for whom am I getting healthy? Sure, I want to be stronger. I want my post-baby body to be able to do the same things that my pre-baby body could. I want to feel attractive when I look at myself in the mirror. I want to read about beauty products and understand what the heck the experts are talking about. I want to feel in the know, up-to-date, and relevant. But it is so much more than that. I want to be healthy for my people. I want my husband and kids to look at me and be proud of me, but also spurred on to become their best selves, too. I want the people in my community for whom my heart breaks to receive the best parts of me, in a way that doesn’t drain me when I pour out for them. I want my patients at work and the folks at church and the people online to be blessed each time we interact. And so I take care of myself. I take it seriously. But it’s not just for me.

Second, what is the aim of my discipline? I grew up in a Christian, upper-middle class family with doting parents and opportunities galore. And yet, I spent most of my life convinced that I needed to earn approval, and that I was only one bad decision away from falling out of right-standing with God. Once I went through counseling, I realized that even I need grace. No amount of striving can help. Grace is not just for the serial killers and the prostitutes out there.

If sin is nothing more than separation from our Creator, then we’re all outside in the cold. Grace is just an invitation inside, a seat at the fireplace with the One who makes things right again.

So I refocused my sense of discipline off of just self-protection and self-preservation. I dug into the spiritual disciplines that people have been using to take care of their souls since the very beginning. I began reading my Bible every morning, and spending more time with God. I practiced exploring humility in a very basic way – confessing and repenting in front of my husband and kids on a daily basis, and asking for help when I needed it.

Reshaping my life around these two ideas has completely revolutionized both my healing process and my working definitions of self-care. It can start in the bathtub if it needs to, but it can’t stop there.

People are literally dying to get a little good news from those of us who are healthy enough to carry it.

health & wellness household management motherhood

this is how we do it: WELLNESS

I started this post during my "this is how we do it" series in 2017, and am only just now finishing it! Carry on.

Obviously, ground rules first. I’m a registered nurse and I only just started vaccinating my kids. So there’s that.

I get a lot of questions about health and wellness because of my profession, and because of my family size. When one of of us comes down with something, we typically all follow suit at some point. It gives me that much more motivation to try and keep us all as healthy as possible. I know as soon as I publish this post, my family will contact some bizarre exotic virus. However, I’m writing it anyway, for two reasons. First, we were recently kicked out of our primary care office for being too healthy. Like, we did not use a single sick visit all year and were therefore going to be charged as new patients… even for the kids’ yearly physicals. Second, last winter was the first one without a single stomach bug in the house. After twelve straight months of no vomiting, I decided to start writing this post, most assuredly to seal my plague fate for this winter (it happened).

PREVENTION.

Like any good healthcare provider, I’m going to tell you to stay healthy so you don’t have to get healthy. In our family, that looks like one might expect. We exercise, we eat healthy at home, we drink a lot of water, and we try to sleep well at night. I carry disinfectant wipes, hand sanitizer, and Lysol in my purse at all times. But my kids also bathe only once per week and eat off of the actual ground, too.

I take supplements every night; I do believe they help with immune support. My regimen currently consists of a probiotic and turmeric every night, with garlic and cranberry on occasion. I’ve noticed improvement in my gut, my skin, and my mood. My husband puts me on a short course of zinc whenever I feel I’m getting a cold, and the kids take a multivitamin when I remember to hand them out. In the winter, I keep an essential oil blend in a roller ball bottle with me at all times. It goes on the kids and myself most nights (feet and belly buttons and sometimes spines). We also take colloidal silver and elderberry syrup during episodes of the creeping crud.

A giant jug of hand sanitizer sit on the bathroom floor by the door, so even the little kids remember to clean their hands on the way out. I clean the bathrooms with bleach, and the doorknobs and light switches with Lysol, on the same day every week so I don’t forget.

TREATMENT.

When we’re sick, we start by trying to wait it out. My kids have never been to the doctor for symptoms of a common cold, stomach bug, etc. We figure that since typical viruses aren’t treatable anyway, what’s the point in spending all of that money to hear someone tell you to go home and wait it out? I also don’t treat fevers most of the time. Because a fever is the body’s natural response to a foreign invader, I’d rather get the whole battle over with as quickly as possible. The exceptions? I’ll medicate a fever to help my children rest for a short period of time, and I’d also medicate if a fever was getting really high really fast. I just caught myself doing that parent fib thing. The truth is a) it’s been years since I used a thermometer and b) new literature actually links febrile seizures to genetics and not a sudden temperature spike. Long story short, all of our family fevers have resolved with sleep and a good sweat session.

WHERE BEING CRUNCHY HELPS.

We swallow garlic cloves  whole and tape them into ears. We take shots of apple cider vinegar. My husband makes a drink that will knock a chest cold right outta here. Coconut oil is our lotion of choice. Essential oils really do work for us, when it comes to certain ailments. I’ve used them every which way possible, from drops in the bathtub to capsules to undiluted to a blend with a carrier. Generally, I believe that nature has a place in healthcare culture, even in the world of advanced medicine and technology. My wound care weapons of choice? Apinol for cuts/scrapes, and honey for open wounds that take time to heal.

WHERE BEING A NURSE HELPS.

I have to regularly remind myself that bacteria and viruses are very different processes, with different symptoms and different treatment protocols. Diarrhea is typically defined as several loose stools in twenty-four hours, not just one or two. Kids are typically much better nourished and hydrated than we think, and even adults can go a long time with very little to eat or drink. I never panic about oral intake as long as everyone is still making urine. A lot of rashes are a mystery to even the doctors, and tend to be self-limiting or treated easily at home. I try to avoid antibiotics for the little things, because I want them to work when it really counts. Even in my own practice, I’ve seen patients have to switch drugs mid-regimen, because of overuse.

I think that about sums it up. Oh, and if you want my prescription for lice or pink eye, hit me up! My mania has actually paid off toward a pretty effective protocol, if I do say so myself. Best wishes on a healthy household.

health & wellness household management motherhood

this is how we do it: FOOD

Alright alright, let’s talk meal planning and grocery and all of the food things! First, read the ground rules. All set? Great!

We’ve been following the same food rhythms for nearly four years now. It works great for us, and you guys have asked lots of questions regarding. I’ll try to hit all of the main points but as always, but feel free to email!

The planning.

I meal plan on Saturdays. I use Pinterest and a pretty notebook. The hope is that someday, my very-grown kids will stumble upon the notebook and flip through their childhood menus in weekly chronological order, remembering me fondly as they recognize my slightly-awkward-but-very-neat handwriting.

No, but seriously, I use a new page for each week and date it at the top. I write down the menu for dinner each night, and list the ingredients below. I loosely stick to a goal of one easy meal per week, one meat-free meal per week, and one new meal per week. Ever since we did Whole30 a few years ago, I feel zero pressure to serve carbs (or even three items) with each meal. Sometimes, it’s just a meat and a green. There is always at least one vegetable.

The planning process takes only an hour tops, but sometimes I drag it out. I may start it Saturday morning, and pick it back up during an afternoon on the couch or before bed. I regularly ask the kids and Chris for feedback. I like Pinterest because I can search using ingredients I already have, or even a vibe or category of food I’m in the mood to try. I write the menu on a chalkboard in the kitchen and the whole family really thrives with the routine. The goal for planning is to know exactly what we’re going to eat every night of the week, which should complement our family’s schedule.

The shopping.

I make the official list on Sunday afternoons using Wunderlist. Chris and I run through the fridge and the pantries one more time, adding any staples to the list that are running low. We shop as a family on Sunday evenings, just before bedtime. This is when stores seem the least crowded and we’re most likely to be struck with the Sunday blues.

We shop at three places around town, which allows us to get everything we need for the entire week. Our main spots are Aldi, Trader Joe’s, and a typical regional grocery store (Harris Teeter). Our weekly household budget is $300, but this includes things like toilet paper and soap or a random school supply and my crazy-expensive probiotics. We typically spend right around $200 each week on food. This covers six dinners per week, and then a general supply of breakfast and lunch and snack food. Our budget allows us to eat out once per week, but you can read more about that here. The goal for shopping on Sunday nights is to prevent random stop-ins at stores throughout the week.

The eating.

Both Chris and I cook, depending on who’s home during the two hours leading up to dinner. We eat around the dining room table most nights, but sometimes in a pile on the floor in the kitchen. We try to eat every night at 6pm. This is the only time throughout the week that we slow down and connect, and it’s very important to us. We protect it fiercely. Whoever is in the house is expected to join. Guests are always allowed, even with little or no heads-up. For some reason, there’s always enough to go around. Phones are not allowed at the table.

We do not offer anything outside of what’s on the menu for dinner. If the kids don’t eat it, they go straight to bed after we’re done. They don’t have to eat seconds, but they have to finish what we serve them. If it’s questionable, we give them a very small serving. Nobody leaves the table until everyone is done, and everyone helps clear the table. All of our children help with dishes and wiping down the table. We don’t own a dishwasher, and Chris won’t let us get one. He says he’s had the best conversations of his life with his kids over a soapy sink.

The nitty-gritty.

We’ve gone all organic before, and we’ve also bought a ton of cheap and processed foods to save money. Right now, we focus on whole foods and healthy options but we aren’t going to go broke in the name of organic. If it come from the ground, we’re happy to eat it. We try to restrict the amount of refined sugar and dairy that we consume. We drink almond milk and coconut creamer, but you can find yogurt squeezers and cheese in our fridge. Our meat is the highest-quality we can get, but we also eat a lot of tofu and beans.

There is one section of our kitchen that is fair game for the kids to eat at any time, the corner that holds the fruit basket and the jars full of Trader Joe’s bars. The little ones need to ask beforehand, but we typically say yes. Both are great options for growing children to grab a quick snack without a battle. This area is also where we keep their water bottles. We only buy juice for special occasions.

Meals we frequently make: tofu/rice/broccoli/seaweed snacks, taco salad, spaghetti/salad, beans/rice bar, neat combinations with wanton cups, zuppa toscana, BBQ sammies/broccoli, grilled chicken/anything, beef/veggie stew, sweet potato chili, and a wide variety of salads.

For breakfast, we do a lot of eggs. The chickens keep us well stocked! We also keep basic cereal and oatmeal in the house. For lunch, we eat a lot of finger foods like turkey roll-ups, pickles, plantain chips, and fruits and veggies. Dessert isn’t every night, but we typically serve the little kids a small cookie treat and the big folks like popsicles and ice cream sandwiches. We get all of our sweets from Trader Joe’s.

It may sound silly, but we take this stuff seriously. As a follower of Jesus, we feel called to steward everything we’ve been given –  our bodies, our time, our money, and our habits. This means that quite frankly, I ain’t got time to stress about what’s for dinner. I want to make as much room as possible in my brain and heart for the Spirit’s leading and the work of the Kingdom of God. It’s incredible how much more margin we have when we already know what we’re eating, when we’re shopping, and how much we’re spending.

Hope this helps. Happy meal planning, food shopping, and eating to you!

health & wellness marriage the whole & simple gospel

Fighting. Sharing. In Jesus’ name.

It’s mental health awareness month and I already have the victory, so I am just going for it right here.

I tend to handle hard seasons like the nurse that I am – I triage, I treat, I tend to others. I am think critically, I react swiftly and efficiently, and I handle effectively. And then months later, I crash. I find myself flat on my back. Everything feels dark and stormy. It’s too hard to brush my teeth and read my Bible and stay close to my people.

I’ve been there for the last little bit. I saw the red flags here and there for the last few months, with the tiniest triggers and the smallest setbacks throwing me for a loop. It came to a head last week, thanks to friends and family pressing in. At one point, my husband physically pulled me out of bed and put my shoes on so I could get moving one morning. I spent several days lamenting and analyzing. What went wrong? I’ve been preparing my heart, disciplining my body, digging into Scripture and community, and running on mission both in my city and on the Internet. My marriage is great, my kids are awesome, and things feel pretty healthy overall. Why the sudden physical symptoms of depression? This felt like failure.

But the truth is it’s not failure. It’s just not. This is simply my life, in seasons. And it’s futile and foolish to think I’ll ever outgrow my need for the gospel, or even move on to a new problem instead of my usual struggle with pride and performance. I’m wired a certain way, I’m born into sin, and I’m made new only in Christ. And only on a daily, forever basis.

So the last few weeks were hard. But this week? This week, we fight. And this time? This time, I share as I go. Because His resurrection power is made positively perfect in my weakness. And I’m ready to boast in it.

This week: move body every day (gentle is okay), drink at least a liter of water each day, sex three times this week, be honest when people ask, no meeting with girls/women this week, memorize Isaiah 32:15-20, worship music or audio books only, and remember that this could end tomorrow and that there’s still joy in the midst.

health & wellness life lately the whole & simple gospel

The bottom never falls out here.

I knew it was coming. I’d already heard the word discipline from the Lord several times throughout the month of January, as if he was asking me to put in the work now so I could reap the harvest later. When I finally had some clarity, I told my husband about the stirring in my heart. Some stuff is going to hit the fan for us this year. I think someone might get sick, or we might lose an income, or there might be new relational chaos in our family. I want to be prepared when it happens.

Ever supportive of my spiritual gifts, my dear husband gave me some serious side eye and told me to pipe down. Then he closed his eyes and nodded. And shook his head, at the same time. If my man could figure out a way to build a house in the clouds, he would move our family to the sky in a heartbeat. Chris could literally get punched in the face and he’d pull himself out of the dirt, dust himself off, smile, and make some comment about how there’s nowhere to go but up from there. In that moment at our kitchen table, he knew I’d heard from God, but he didn’t want to think about our lives being turned upside-down.

And eight months later, upside-down they went! In the course of just a few weeks, our family has experienced significant sickness, loss of income, and relational chaos. I’m trying my hardest to compare it to other times my life has felt dark and hopeless, because these are some of the most extreme events to ever happen to us. And yet, this is the most at peace I’ve ever felt. I don’t feel dark and heavy. I feel light and hopeful, excited even. Because we’ve been preparing for this all year.

Mere weeks after my word from the Lord in January, I sat at the IF:gathering and listened to Katherine describe her life-changing stroke and subsequent recovery. She said that in her darkest moments, she reminded herself that THIS IS NOT A DRILL. This is what she’d been training for, in a spiritual sense. All of the Scripture, all of the prayers, all of the diligent times spent with Jesus, they came flooding back to her and kept her company while she lay in a hospital bed, unable to communicate with anyone. As I listened to her words, I felt God again remind me of our conversations a month prior. It almost felt as if he was nudging me to stop wasting time. No need to be flailing about and trying to remember a random Psalm when the bottom drops out. And so I got ready. I got after healthy rhythms and relationships like my life depended on it.

I started reading my Bible every morning, and not just when I remembered to or on a phone app in the car. When people ask, I try not to sound blunt in my reply. I just read it. No reading plans, no journals. I pick one book at a time, and I read one chapter per day until that book is done. Throughout the day, I ask the Lord to remind me things from my morning’s reading. What does he want to tell me about himself, myself, and the world?

I also started going to the gym every day. Not just a few times per month for yoga classes, or on a Saturday morning when I had some free time. I work out five days a week, for twenty minutes each morning. This is another question I get a lot, about how I make it work. I just go. The answer might seem unrealistic to some, but it took so much time and work to get to this place as a family. We literally changed jobs and moved things around in our budget to get the morning routine we have today. And now my husband and I start our days together while apart (how couples do the same workout next to each other, I might never know), moving our bodies and asking God how he wants to use us today.

Lastly, I really started to let people in. I feel like I went to my best friend Jess and my husband and blurted out I HAVE A PRIDE PROBLEM, but I know it was more nuanced than that (I hate nuance. Even the word. It feels wimpy to me. I’m so stinkin’ black and white). I basically asked them to speak life AND truth over me, and I practiced receiving correction. I got used to the idea that I’m busted and broken even WITH Jesus, and I learned to guzzle grace. I’m still working on the “extending it others” part, but the Lord is kind and gentle while he teaches me.

And so here we are. The actual bottom is trying to fall out, and I’m still standing. There is healing here. This is a story of redemption. A few years ago when things got rough, I wanted out. Out of my marriage, out of motherhood, out of this world. And this time, I’m smiling (weakly, tightly sometimes) and whispering under my breath that this is not a drill.

I can take heart. He’s already overcome the world. And I’m not alone. God looks at some of these worldly circumstances of mine and he enters into the pain with me. It ought not be, he whispers. I get it. This is bad. But can we go back to all of those things I promised you? All of the things you’ve read about me in Scripture, bragged about me to your friends and people online? Let’s camp out on those. Stand on my promises. The bottom never falls out here.

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