Choices...

Everyday we make choices. Good choices and bad choices surround us and navigate through our schema. I have been reminded lately that I can choose to bless The Lord, regardless of my situations. The song "10,000 Reasons (bless The Lord)" has been in my mind all week. The words are powerful yet have drawn me back to the choice we have to worship The Lord in the midst of the junk this life gives us. Life is hard and well...sometimes life sucks. Situations we experience, loss, and disappointment all can suck the life right out of us. Without choosing to turn to Christ in the midst of the chaotic world we live in we can drown in unknowns, comparisons and doubts. Yet we worship a God who is there in the midst of all that junk. 

I'm a recovering over commiting, people pleasing, can't say no-a-holic. This way of life left me burned out. It left me burned out as a social worker. Im not afraid to admit it, it even left me burned out on religion. So instead of commiting to everything like my old ways, I stood on the outskirts, was aloof and hid behind my baby, who had become my security blanket in a sense.

 I used to struggle with wanting to look, talk, and be like everyone else. I thought I had a handle on it until I moved here and yet again wasn't part of the "in crowd" at church. Funny how sometimes we feel the most excluded at church, the one place where everyone should feel like they belong right? I wasn't sure of my place and purpose amongst the people I was called to serve through youth ministry. I could blame it on the nature of ministry, being a pastors wife or even my OCD, but I began looking at it like it was a choice. In reality I was choosing to let the popular people get to me. Choosing to have pity parties and other distructive thought patterns seized my rational brain. 

Tonight I am choosing to bless the Lord. I am choosing to pray when i'd rather complain. I am choosing to read the word daily and being intentional about sharing verses with friends. I am choosing to worship the Lord even though I may not like the songs or music style, or gasp...the platform arrangement on a given sunday. I'm choosing to stop listening to the whiny bad attitdes and start being a part of the change. I am choosing to
tune out the negative "this is how we've always done it or it will never work that way" people so I can hear the voice of the Lord. I'm choosing to give to others even if it means going without. I'm choosing joy.

I am choosing to be fully present in the moment.

Transitions...

One of my favorite quotes from the movie Hope Floats is the following: "Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it's what's in the middle that counts."

I find myself in the midst of transition. First let me say I hate change. I like routines, regurity and the familiar. Kinda funny that I grew up moving around what seemed like every 3-4 years. I have favorite resturants at which I order the same thing. I pick resturants first by how much I like their sweet tea and then by whether or not I'm in the mood for the one thing on the menu I always order. I'm not one to try new things or live on the edge. I'd like to think im adventurous but in reality, I'm very predictable. 

So the thought of any kind of major change brings on the OCD counting, cleaning and controlling monster. In mid June I resigned from my current job at Vanderbilt and accepted a job for a school district. This move wasn't spur of the moment. It was prayerful and something that God began preparing me for a year ago. 

In many ways I'm comfortable at my current job. Yes there are the typical stressors that any job has but for the most part it's an easy job where I have been able to use my creative, organizational and administrative skills. One of the best things about my current job has been the flexibility to be home in the mornings with Addyson these past two years. 

A year ago I was still wrestling with God about wanting to be a stay at home mom and not having to work outside the home. I had reworked the budget numerous times. Brainstormed ways to work from home.  In my anger I often questioned why ministry doesn't pay more and why God wouldn't give me what I wanted...to be a stay at home mom. 

I began praying, boldly praying that The Lord would provide. Praying that I wouldn't rely on His past faithfulness to be enough to carry me through current daily struggles. I got into the Word through Good Morning Girls bible studies. I found making my quiet time with God a priority changed me. It also made me want it more. Made me want God in a deeper way than I ever have before. A year ago I wouldn't have even considered getting back into social work full time. Thinking teaching a social work class at Trevecca was enough at first. But throughout the year God stirred within me a desire to return to my first profession, the one He called me to long before I held the title wife or mom. 

In January I stopped praying vague generic "God please provide for us" prayers and began praying specific, to the point prayers. Asking the Lord to open the door for me to work somewhere that would allow me to be home in the evenings and have summers off seemed like a huge request.

The time came for us to look at preschools for Addyson. Without knowing how we would pay for it let alone if I would actually be ready for her to go. I got a call, actually a few calls, to interview for a job that met all of my requirements. Thinking it was too good to be true I said I would interview even though I really didn't think I was at a point of changing jobs. Yes, The Lord has been preparing me for this change months in the making.

Something happens when we boldly pray. I remember driving to work praying as I often do it was as if The Lord said to my heart "just think how many lives and families you can impact if you take this job." It was in that moment that I felt overwhelming peace. The Lord answered this OCD girls bold prayers and has prepared the way for me to start my new job at the end of July. 

To be honest I'm still nervous, sad, scared and excited about this transition. The mix of emotions are real and sometimes raw. I will have 9 schools that I will travel between. My office will be my car and it will be different work every day. I will have to develop a new routine. Yes, I will have summers off, but I will be working hard for 10 months before I reap the benefit of having the summer off with my favorite girl.

Thursday night as I sat in a missionary service at our denominations district assembly I had one of those God moments. Like the kind of moment when you feel like the speaker is talking directly to you even though you are in a room of hundreds of people. The speakers wife (who couldn't be there) greeted us with a video message. In it she shared a quote from Elisabeth Elliot. It was the only thing I heard all night and pierced my soul.

Elisabeth Elliot is the wife of Jim Elliot, a missionary killed by the remote tribe he was called to minister to in Equador. Even after he was killed she remained for two years and ministered to the tribe who took her husbands life.

"This job has been given to me to do. Therefore, it is a gift. Therefore, it is a privilege. Therefore, it is an offering I may make to God. Therefore, it is to be done gladly, if it is done for Him. Here, not somewhere else, I may learn God’s way. In this job, not in some other, God looks for faithfulness." Elisabeth Elliot

Wow! What a calling God has placed on my life both as a mom and a social worker. The job God has given me to do can't be taken lightly. This job as a mama and as a social worker must be done with intentionality. It must be rooted in deep bold prayers. It must be done with compassion. These job are both important.

This quote rattled my sole. The words spoke to a deep hurt place in my heart that resented the fact that I can't be a stay at home mom. Like a healing salve it renewed my heart.

This quote will be my calling and mission statement as I transition into my new job. As much as I hate change I know it is needed. Even good change is hard. 

As I focus on the job at hand I will remain fully preset in the moment!

Tears of Healing

I'm a crier. I cry when I'm happy. I cry when I'm sad. I even cry when I see other people crying. I cry every time I leave me parents or they leave me after a visit. I cry when I pray. I cry during movies. I cry when I'm stressed. I cried today. I often feel better after a good cry.

I remember working with a client who returned from rehab. She returned a new person, naturally, after being in a rehab facility away from her addiction and all the vices it entailed. In my time as a child and family therapist, clients came and went. Some families stick out in my memory, and many helped lay a foundation as a helping professional. This particular client came back and was eager to share all she had learned in her 90 days away. She looked like a new person, far from the drug induced shell of a person I encouraged to  go to rehab months earlier. As she sat in my office she shared story after story of her time away. Making amends, meetings, new friends, and beautiful manicured fingernails were topics discussed as well as detox, regrets and crying. She shared something that has stuck with me as I interact with others. She shared that her therapist who led groups at the rehab facility corrected her one day in group. She was embarrassed at the time but  learned an incredible lesson and the tables were turned that day as i became the student learning a valuable lesson from my client.

She told me one day in group as people shared the story of their addictive behaviors one person began to cry. My client naturally got up and handed her the box of tissues when the therapist leading the group suddenly stopped her. He told my client that the tissues would remain where they were on the shelf and if anyone wanted to get one they could get up and get it themselves. She continued sharing that the therapist went on to explain that in group and at the treatment rehab it was okay to cry. Offering tissues to a person crying sends the message to them that they should stop. That it's not okay or acceptable to cry. In reality crying is a good thing, a healthy thing.

I will never forget that conversation. I will never forget what I learned that day.

As I think about the various emotions that tomorrow, Father's Day, will bring I can't help but remember the tissue box conversation that changed my perspective of crying.

I won't be able to be with my dad tomorrow on Father's Day because of the miles that separate us and I will be sad. But I have friends who will celebrate their first fathers day and that brings a sense of excitement and joy. And then there are the ones who will celebrate Father's day without their dad because of death. Tomorrow I will celebrate with my miracle baby and her great daddy. There will be cards, a gift and family time at a baseball game, and knowing me I will cry happy tears.

I think it is okay to cry. Strong people cry. Weak people hide their emotions. Crying is okay. Crying is good for you. Crying makes you feel better, but sometimes it also make you feel worse.

I heard a grieving widow once say, "don't feel bad for me when I cry in front of you...these are tears of healing." Wow, what a beautifully honest statement.

So don't feel offended if you cry in front of me and I don't offer you tissues. My tears and the tears you cry my dear friend, are tears of healing. Healing takes time. Healing hurts. Healing does happen. 

Let the tears of healing flow as you remain fully present in the moment.

Tales From the Toilet & Other Lessons Learned from Potty Training

A couple weeks ago we began the much dreaded potty training task with our toddler. I will openly admit that this is the parenting task/stage that I am the most intimidated by. I have talked to veteran moms about my "I'm gonna mess her up for good" fears and they have all reassured me that I won't. I've read and re-read parenting blogs, toilet training tips, books and articles. I work in a school with potty training gurus. And yet it is still intimidating, frightening and nerve wracking. So I braved Babies R Us purchased two princess potty seats, "big girl" undies and an industrial size bag of M&Ms.

 Yes, I know many veteran moms will read this and think, "Ha! You just wait...potty training is easy compared to __________ (fill in the blank). But for this OCD Mama potty training scares me. Regardless of my fears and phobias if I survived cloth diapering, I can handle this right?

 Over the past two weeks (which feel like years) I have learned a thing or two about potty training. I also find it a little ironic that I would dare to take on this parenting challenge while my hubby is at camp for two weeks. Perhaps this is an addition to last years blog post Top 10 Reasons Why I Wish I Was At Junior High Camp. 

Let me first begin by saying that I have now seen nearly every restroom in the greater Nashville area as my precious toddler wants to look at every bathroom everywhere we go. Tonight when we walked into a bathroom she hadn't been in before and she immediately said "o it's amazing." Let me tell you there was nothing amazing about this particular restroom. But to my princess in training, she was amazed. I can tell you which restaurant has a clean bathroom, which gas station potty to avoid and when it is necessary to wait till we get home. Yet I have learned that when your toddler says they gotta go...there's a 50/50 chance they will go...so even if you are mid bite or on the phone you drop everything and run to the potty.

This OCD Mama has had to set my fears, phobias and intrusive thoughts aside as we have embraced pull ups, princess undies and potty treats. I avoid going to the bathroom in public places at all costs. They are breading grounds for all kinds of bacteria, germs and disease, but when you are potty training a toddler all that has to be ignored.  I have learned that these days we run to the potty every chance we get in hopes of having a dry pull up or undies. Our goal is to keep the princess undies dry and get a treat. No easy task for the OCD Mama.

I can now proudly whip out the fold and go potty seat (they are worth every penny) in record time, juggling a squirmy toddler, purse, backpack all while repeatedly saying "don't touch anything" to my very curious tot. Yet there is no way I can keep the obsessive thoughts at bay. They swarm around in my mind like bees overtake their hive. It's as if each thing she touches will lead to my  "worst case scenario" thought coming true. These obsessive thoughts cause the compulsive desires to engage in battle.  But I am learning to leave the OCD Mama at the door and be a Fully Present Mama.

So I find myself in broken record fashion saying "don't touch", "that's gross", "that's really yucky" to my miracle baby. As if my heart is outside my body in the most germ filled place just waiting to be attacked. And yet my Addyson finds these interactions exciting. She giggles and squeals with glee as she sits on her Cars Potty seat (it was the only fold and go one I could find). She  is so proud of herself when she pees and poops in the potty which is rewarded with an M&M. Even when she doesn't go, she simply states "we'll try again". Her lighthearted attitude and ability to go with the flow (no pun intended) helps me conquer this new milestone. I am learning that my OCD is mine and not hers. I can't and won't put my fears onto her.

Through this potty training journey I have also learned the importance of P.P (pun intended). Patience and Practice have become my mantra. I often have to remind myself that I must be patent and Addyson must practice. Potty training, like any new skill takes time and practice.

The other thing I have learned as weird as it is, is I have to be thankful for the accidents. You see one of the many things I have learned from working where I do is that to me potty training may be my biggest parenting woe, but for some parents they only wish their child would reach this milestone. I really believe that we as parents must become more aware of the things we say. We have to realize that every child is different. For some parents they will forever be changing diapers. So I have to remind myself to be fully present in the moment sometimes means being grateful for the good and the bad, for my worst day could be some parents best day ever.

I am also finding myself having to laugh through this chore  journey. For instance when I use the rest room and addyson tells everyone how stinky it was. Or the time that she cheered and told me I could get a treat. But my favorite has to be when she puts her hand to her ear and listens for her pee pee to come out saying "hear it mama?"

So if you're in a public restroom in the near future and you hear a toddler voice belt out the chorus of "Let it Go" that would be my miracle baby.  And yes, I usually sing along in hope that she will indeed "let it go" in the potty.  Here's to being fully present in the moment!

Dear Lady, Stop Staring at Me!

Dear Lady in Buffalo Wild Wings, 

 Please stop staring at me and my toddler. I know that my adorable toddler just threw an entire basket of fries on the floor, but you staring at me is not helping my situation. 

Yes, I am fully aware of the crying tantrum happening in my midst and your glaring eye isn't helping one bit. I don't know, maybe you expected your boyfriend, sugar daddy, husband or whatever he may be, to bring you out for a nice peaceful dinner, but hate to break it ya but you are at BWW and its a little loud in here. That is one of the reasons we are here tonight. Besides having a gift card, we know that this eating establishment isn't for the faint at heart. It's not the quiet candlelight, look into each others eyes, romantic dinner place. This is one of the few non-fast food restaurants we can go to and I don't have to worry about my very vocal toddler bothering anyone. If the obnoxiously loud TVs blaring isn't enough I'm pretty sure the sporadic cheering and other choice words that are expressed for each bad play, call or score don't bother you are in the right place. 

Yup, I'm pretty sure the table of basketball players or the little leaguers beside us are more interesting, yet your eyes are fixed on me and my toddler as we sit on the floor. My eyes dart at my tot and back at you again as I calmly explain why we don't throw food and try to convince my tot to pick up the fries. You see, we are trying to make this a teachable moment. So stare away, but we will be sitting right here until my miracle baby starts picking up the fries. Stop looking at me like I'm a cruel parent after all it wasn't an accident, the fries didn't slip off the table, they were thrown with force. What can I say, she's got a good arm. 

 My sigh of relief cuts the tension in the air as my girl starts putting the fries back in the basket and looks up at me and says "sorry mama." And as quickly as gravity caused the fries to fly to the floor, the moment was over. My precarious tot was back seated at the table and coloring like an angel. So please stop staring. 

I'm not sure if you know this or not...parenting is hard. It doesn't come with instructions. There are no short cuts, easy ways out or magic spells. It's hard, discouraging and an uphill climb. So maybe instead of staring at me, you could smile. I don't know, offer an encouraging "it gets better" pep talk. Or just ignore the fry flying, tamper tantrum, restaurant ruckus happening over here. After all, I promise not to stare at you every time you pound the table cause your team is loosing. 

 Love,

 a very tired Mama

Do Your Eyes Light Up?

I see it every day at work. Busy stressed out parents on their phones.  Now this isn't a post about the overuse and obsession our culture has with our smart phones. But yesterday as I sat at the "welcome desk" at work and saw parent after parent pick up their child with their ear glued to their phone my heart broke. Yes, I understand all too well the fact that some parents have to be on their phones. Patients, clients and families depend on their quick response to calls. I know that many of these parents have very important jobs in which life hangs in jeopardy at times and they must answer the call. But yet my heart breaks when I see parents pick up their children with a half hearted "hello how was your day?" While their attention is divided. Sometimes not even looking at their child as the hurriedly rush them out the door. Even when they aren't answering a call their eyes are glued to a little screen and their child fights for their attention.

I heard a quote from Maya Angelou years ago which has shaped my work and calling as a social worker who works with children. Yet it wasn't till I became a parent that the quote started to have true meaning.

"Do your eyes light up when you child or any child walks into a room?" 

In typical Maya Angelou style, the quote pierces the heart. It is a quote I repeat in my head daily as I walk into Addysons room each morning to get her up. "Do your eyes light up?" 

When I worked as a child and family therapist it was the basis of my work. As I walked into the lobby to great a client, a hurting family, a hopeless teen, a broken spirit; I made sure my eyes lit up. Seeing a child,  my child, or any child...I make sure my eyes light up. This involves somuch  more than a customary hello informality. It is the joy of seeing that child that is evident in your eyes. It is love. It is compassion.

Finding out I was pregnant was shocking and exciting, but till I held my precious newborn miracle in my arms I hadn't truly lived. I'll never forget the moment in the delivery room when the drill sergeant nurse told Andy to "hold a leg". We laugh about it now, but it was in those moments of labor that I truly felt delivered of all the fears and worries I carried with me for the 9 months of pregnancy. The questions of "is this for real?" "Will I actually hold my baby here on earth or in heaven?" were honest questions that I never confessed out loud. Andy "held a leg" and was the first to lay eyes on our miracle baby. He saw her enter this world and I saw it...his eyes lit up. As they handed addyson to me all I could say was "thank you." It was as if in that miraculous moment the Lord was right there and I couldn't help but thank Him. 

So when I see parents with their children and after hours of not seeing their child they can't cut a phone call short or respond to that email later, my heart hurts. I hurt for the child who wants their parents attention and I hurt for the parent who is missing the opportunity to truly see their child. To show their child the joy and excitement they have in seeing them after the hours of being a part. 

My boss understands this concept. Although I'm not sure if she is familiar with the Maya Angelou quote she definitly understands the concept of lit up eyes. When she sees her son, who also attends our school, her eyes light up. She has genuine joy and excitement to see him. And it doesn't matter what she is doing at the time she stops and greets him with love and excitement. She gets it! 

So my question is "do your eyes light up?" If you work with kids, do your eyes light up when you see them? If you are a teacher do your eyes light up when those students come into your classroom? Yes, even the one who you secretly wish could be absent...your eyes may be the only eyes that he sees light up. So do your eyes light up? Tired, sleep deprived mama...do your eyes light up?

As I get ready to go into work...I'm counting down the hours till I get to see my precious miracle baby tonight. Till I see her, my eyes will light up when I see the children at school. Tonight when I see my Addyson, my eyes will light up. Seeing her keeps me fully present in the moment each day!

Looking for God in the Unexpected

I have sat down to blog over and over again this past month and haven't had the words. I have many posts in the works but havent had the time or emotional energy to finish and post.

May has been a whirlwind month that has brought with it unexpected struggles and blessings and although its not yet over I will not be defeated by this month.

The month began with me going to a four day training for work. I had attended this type of training as a participant for two days when I was working as a school social worker, but this time I would be attending four days to become a trainer. The geeky girl in me was excited, yet my OCD brain was worried that the change in routine could be problematic. Hearing the instructors words after his introductions had me in fear..."everyone will have to take and pass the instructor test on friday." It wasn't even 9:30 am on Tuesday morning and I felt the test anxiety rise within me. I immediatly slipped into my OCD counting trap. Looked for even numbers and found myself mentally clearing my schedule so I could study each night.

The training was interesting and I felt so happy that my work allowed me to take part in it. Yet I found myself complaining each morning about the $10 parking as I walked into the building where the traing was held. Four days of training multiplied by 10 bucks a day was $40 i certanily didnt want to spend on parking. Yet as I walked to my car each aftrrnoon, I walked with a little pep in my step because, well I'm a dork, and I love learning.

 Thursdsy afternoon when I got out of trainng I had to stop and pick up a few items from the grocery store for our small group which was meeting that night. Earlier in the day I found $10 in my purse. I had no idea where it came from since we never carry cash. Wondering if my hubby put it in there for me to get coffee or something, I stuffed it in a pocket and forgot about it.

 As I was picking up my items I saw a mom with four kids. It caught my eye because they didn't have a cart or any items in their hands. The kids looked really tired and the mom had a desperate look in her eyes. I couldnt find what I was looking for since I wasn't familiar with this stores layout but. I seemed to be a few aisles behind the mom and kids at every turn. As I stood in the salsa aisle I noticed the mom was asking people for money. I grabbed my salsa and quickly went to get the next item on my list...I didn't have time for this, I thought to myself. Yet at the next aisle I saw her again asking someone for change so she could get some gas. The person she asked ignored her plea and walked right past her and the four children in tow behind. I headed toward the check out and saw the mom leave with her kids tagging along. When I got to the register to pay, I saw the 10 dollar bill and got a lump in my throat. Instantly I knew I had to give the mom the ten bucks I found in my purse just hours earlier.

When I left the store, I saw the mom and kids and stopped her to explain that I heard her asking for gas money. I said I usually don't have cash but did today and wanted her to have it. She grabbed me and before I realized it she was holding me in a bear hug and she was sobbing. She said "thank you so much,I asked everyone in the store and no one gave me anything". She turned to her kids and said with tears in her eyes "now we can go home." They cheered, hugged me and gave me high fives and said thank you. I got in my car and was overcome with emotion. I just sat and cried thanking God for this unexpected encounter. I cried thinking I had been complaining all week about the parking for this training that my job paid for me to attend. I cried thanking God for my job and for that random $10. I asked for forgiveness for being too busy for others and my selfishness.
It was easy to see God at work that day.

This week I faced other unexpected things and have had to look for God at work. Its not the first time in my journey with the lord that I have questioned, doubted and feared what was happening around me. Lots of things were out of my control this week. Things that didn't seem fair, times I wanted to yell out to God because I felt like He forgot about me. There have been sleepless nights and lots of tears, yet the Lord has been present. Scrubbing the floors in my OCD way till my fingers were cracked and painful got my attention. It was as if the Lord stopped me and said "you neeed to thank me even in the midst of your circumstances."

 In my looking for Him I realized that I have to focus more on the things I have, than all that I am without.

Last night I sat with Addyson and looked through her "special box". A memory box that holds items from when she was a baby. Items like the outfit she wore home from the hospital, the newborn diaper that was too big for her, her id bracelet, hat and other momentos. Again in that unexpected trip down memory lane the Lord reminded me of His faithfulness. She is my daily reminder that God is still doing miracles today.

Even in the midst of struggles there are many blessings.

God is in the unexpected. 

It is the unexpected gift cards from friends, the quiet times reading scripture, the bedtime prayers my toddler says, the surprise coffee with friends, the faithful prayers of Godly parents, the random photos my brother texts me and the  "everythings going to be okay" embrace of my husband that remind me to be fully present in the moment.