Category: Wisdom

Humanity is so interesting to me. People can utterly disagree on a subject and believe it with their whole heart, usually with no thread of doubt on either side. Politically, as of late, this has been on the forefront of our media because we are gearing up for the next presidency in the United States. Political parties are deciding which candidates will best represent their party. There have been debates and interviews, rallies and meet-n-greets. Each candidate certain they are the best person for the job. Each person with a backing of tens of thousands of people.

When you talk to someone who is rallying behind a candidate, they usually are very passionate. They have a certain standard of beliefs which make them so passionate and that make them stand behind that candidate.

I think I would fall under the passionate category in some sense. I am a woman so I am passionate about rights for women and making sure we don’t get trampled on or degraded. I am a mother so I am passionate about child labor laws and an advocate for education. I am a Christian so I am passionate about freedom of religion – freedom to practice my faith in Jesus and freedom to share the faith I have with others. I am a writer so I am passionate about the freedom of speech and the freedom I have to express my beliefs without restrictions.

Since I was a child, I can remember practicing my passions in a silly way. We would drive around in the car, and I would see the stickers with the boy peeing on different things – “Ford” for some reason pops in my head. I thought this idea was disgusting and indecent. So as a child, I would sit in the back seat and take down license plate numbers and car type of those who had that icky sticker in the back of their car. It’s silly looking back at that because writing down those numbers and letters did little to change anything, but it shows how determined I was to make things right and to make change.

Today, I realized just how passionate I am for one of the things God has placed on my heart. Fighting to abolish abortion is something I have always wanted. I have always fought for it. But recently, after having a child of my own, this passion is something that never leaves my heart.

A hashtag that is trending recently is heartbreaking: #shoutyourabortion. This hashtag is in support of abortion and an attempt to normalize it. This action has been taken on many other life-killing things in our culture recently. Songs have been written, pictures on facebook have been changed, hashtags created all to normalize something that is supposed to bring shame. Really, this is not a new phenomenon. When Jesus was beaten and killed, those who were condemning him to death convinced everyone to mock him by shouting “king of the Jews.” They mocked him in an attempt to convince the world that he deserved this death because this king of the Jews and Son of God “couldn’t” command himself and his angels to take him off of the tree he hung on or to stop the men from beating his back. They didn’t know that who they were actually sentencing to death was God himself. Nor did they realize that they would be one day facing the ultimate Judge.

This hashtag comes after the House of Representatives has passed a bill to defund planned parenthood. This is coming from those who claim that defunding planned parenthood is stripping women of their rights and attempting to lower women in the totem pole.

This is where my passions come in… I was literally brought to tears when a series of videos came out revealing the truth of what this organization does. When watching the videos, you see that they are edited and cut to be pieced together into a shorter version of the original video. They are created to evoke emotion. But, the video itself is not what creates and evokes the emotion; It is the content. If that content was given in the entirety of the conversation, it would still evoke emotion to anyone listening. If I was sitting in those restaurants listening to those conversations, I would have said something to those executives and doctors at planned parenthood. I would not be able to sit still or keep silent. And today, I am unable to sit still and keep silent…

I’ve had people, friends and family, tell me that of course the woman doesn’t feel happy about the abortion and that pro-choicers aren’t okay with abortion, but they would rather have “safe” abortions than abortions done unsafely or in the blackmarket. But this latest hashtag shows just how untrue that really is…

To listen to people flaunting their abortions like the latest designer bag or newest trending hairstyle is abhorrent to me. They share with excitement and thrill. They show no regret or shame. In fact, they show their motives to do it: selfishness and self-gain. Here are some examples from twitter users:

“My abortion was in ’10 & the career I’ve built since then fulfills me & makes me better able to care for kids I have now. #shoutyourabortion” -@thelindywest

“I’ve had 2 abortions. I don’t have to justify or explain them to anybody. My life is more valuable than a potential life. #shoutyourabortion” – @clementine_ford

“Had an abortion procedure done at age 22 because I was WAY too young to parent. Have never, ever regretted it. #shoutyourabortion” – @maryemilyohara

I think when it comes down to it, we will manipulate anything to work it around our comfort and ultimate desires. I have done this so many times in my life. I remember convincing myself that a pattern in someones life was not what it was because I wanted to be apart of the “cool crowd.” I ended up in very unhealthy relationships with people who were toxic doing things that were against every bit of who I claimed to be as a Christ follower.

I am convinced that this is what these people must be thinking because I simply cannot wrap my mind around it. They want to have sex so bad that they will go to all extremes to do it – (no need to sugar coat it) even murdering a baby. They want their lives to stay easy and fun and sometimes reckless instead of taking responsibility for their decisions, so, in order to avoid them, they choose murder. They are afraid that people will judge them (or their family is fearful of judgement) so instead of keeping the baby or going through with the pregnancy and putting the baby up for adoption even, they murder the baby instead. It really is very similar to the choices I have made previously in my life with friendships or lifestyle choices. I was not the perfect angel I sometimes try to convince people of – I have chosen things that were judgement-worthy. I have chosen hate instead of love which Jesus says is as bad as murder. I am no better than these women, but I have been made new and forgiven. And I am not content with my past and want to forge a new future because of what Jesus has done for me on the cross.

I don’t want to live in a world where #shoutyourabortion is the norm, where shouting murder is the norm. I don’t want to justify and praise what is wrong. I want to move closer and closer to looking and living like Jesus did. Loving others and fighting for justice. I want to #shoutlife and #shoutadoption (Thanks Ashley Hasemeyer for the awesome idea). As Jesus did, I want to fight for women’s rights…but I also want to fight for the rights of unborn babies who have every right to live to meet their potential in life. The unborn babies who have every right to live even if their mother and father were younger than what is preferred or easy (and lets be honest, having a baby, no matter the age, is ever easy). The unborn baby who doesn’t care if you have a successful career. Whatever the reason, they have a right to life.

#shoutlife

Sweet baby Jackson – #shoutlife

Can I be honest here?

This topic feels daunting to me. I have shared and shared and shared…prayed and prayed and prayed… and it still feels like a mountain too steep for me to climb.

This topic is one that is controversial. People on either side have STRONG opinions that are immovable.

It is one that has effected people from 80 and 90 years old to those who are just a wee speck in their mother’s eye.

Yet, here I go, beating on that drum still hoping to make some difference, a beautiful noise, in this orchestra of opinions.

Life. It matters. So much. That baby still in their mother’s womb. That baby born just two seconds ago. That baby born 6 months ago. That person born 86 years ago. Each one, each soul, conceived into this world and walking through a life that was not necessarily one they chose.

Sin has tarnished this life with grief, hurt, pain, sadness, terror, sickness. Each person in this world will experience one of those things, but most likely multiple of those things in their lifetime. No one is free from the pain of this sin-stricken world. The soul who is still in their mother’s womb, to the soul who is 86 years old. Each of us, feeling the pain. Each of us, trying our best to manage and cope with what life is all about.

I can see where those on the opposite side of the spectrum are coming from and I know they don’t have ill-intentions. They don’t think abortion is “good,” per se, but they say it is a necessary evil. They want women, who have been treated as “less than” for so long, to be treated with “equality.” Good endeavors and great intentions. They look at the rate of children born into this world to families that are subpar. They see the rate of children born into this world without families at all – motherless and fatherless. They see the rate of children brought into this world where the mother has to deal with the pain and scars of rape. They are told their baby will be born with a birth defect or with a disability. Where is the fairness in bringing a child into the world with those odds against them? These things are a reality in this world, so I get it. I get that you want to fight against them; I do.

To be honest, it pains me that that is the reality of this world. I want to fight against them. But, it has been that way since Adam and Eve decided to rebel against God. It is a painful reality (but, thankfully, not one without hope).

I think, in the world’s venture to rectify the wrong they see, they end up choosing another wrong choice. In the process of “saving” those children from a life condemned to poverty, pain, sickness, terror, and hurt, they end up condemning those sweet children to death.

Each one not even given the chance to redeem their own story. I have countless friends who have been adopted and have rewritten the story that was supposed to be written for them. Friends who have families. Friends who now have stable jobs and houses and cars and things. They weren’t even supposed to graduate high school because they grew up in the foster system. Yet, in the world’s standard, they are making it. I would say they are even thriving.

And to take it even farther beyond just the world’s standard, in God’s standard they are “making it.” They love Jesus. They are following him and walking alongside of Him. Their life is producing fruit.

But, but, but…they were born and are in foster care waiting to be adopted. But, but, but…they were born into a family with only the mother. But, but, but…they were born into a family with teen parents.

Why do these things matter? Why are you condemned to death because your parents don’t want you? Why are you condemned to death because of your parent’s choices? Why are you condemned to death because of the sin of another?

Asking these questions, I am reminded of someone else who was in a similar situation to these sweet children. He had teen parents who were not yet married when he was in his mother’s womb. Though his parent’s did not sin, they were looked on by the community with disdain. If it was current day and if fear or shame got the best of them, they could have chosen to make the same decision that many parents in this world make – to take their child’s life in the womb.

Jesus came into this world birthed by a teen mother. She was betrothed to Joseph, but they weren’t married. To those in her family and community, and even to Joseph at one point, she was seen as an outcast and untrustworthy and deceitful. Once the baby was born, the ruler of the time wanted to kill her baby (crazy environment to be born into). But, she carried on because she had purpose and conviction. She knew, as a woman, what her responsibilities were; she was entrusted this baby. And she knew that if she did the right thing and followed the Lord that it would have an outcome much bigger than herself.

And it did. The baby she bore went on to be the savior of the world. He was born so that the world could be saved. He was born so that he would die a criminals death though he was without guilt.

That is the crux of the whole issue here. When we decide to play God and take life and death into our own hands, we rob the world of the chance that that sweet soul has to make an impact on this world. There will not be another baby Jesus (and thank God that “it is finished!”), but each person, because they are created by God, has a right to a chance at life.

Who are we to decide that their situation is not “good?” If Mary had made that choice, we would be in a completely different place than we are now, wouldn’t we?

What blessed hope we have, because even when we make the decision to choose what God does not want, he still has forgiveness, grace, mercy, and love for us!

Daily we rebel against his wishes, yet he welcomes us and adopts us as his own. That’s the beauty of the gospel message – we have hope! Those sweet babies born into horrible situations have hope. That teen mom in the crisis pregnancy has hope. That sweet woman who was brutalized and terrorized now with a young baby in her womb has hope. Jesus does not discriminate against the type of sin we have. In fact, because we are sinners we are qualified now to receive his grace and mercy.

So, that daunting, steep mountain that seems impossible to summit…well…it isn’t impossible with God. He has overcome death, and that powerful Jesus that overcame death now lives in us.

I choose life. Regardless of the world’s standards. Regardless of the worlds attempts at fixing and rectifying. I choose not to try to make something right by doing another wrong. Join me, will you, in this fight for hope to win, in this fight for love to win?

I want to make a beautiful noise while on this earth, and I wont settle for mediocre or subpar. I want to be excellent. I want to please the One who created me, not this world.

[Sidenote: I am not complaining; I am simply making light of this current phase of my life…]

Okay, cruel to take a picture of your crying baby, I know. But I was trying to get a shot of his teeth coming in. This is an old picture, they are officially in and sharper than puppy teeth.

The pterodactyl has found his way back into the Cooley household once again. While I thought this stage in my son’s life was long gone, it has returned…in full force.

My son is a babywise baby (“On Becoming Babywise” by Gary Ezzo – look it up. It was life-changing for us!) – which means I let him CIO (Cry It Out for those who aren’t familiar with the borderline-controversial method in the current “Attachment Parenting” era). It also means I have an excellent napper, a smiley baby 99.9999% of the time, and he sleeps through the night (mostly) at 2.5-3 months old.

Okay, so anyways, back to the reason I mentioned babywise. He is such a happy, content baby – which is characteristic of most babies who follow this method (babywise).

Pterodactyl baby was pre-babywise.

I thought I would never have to deal with this side of him again. In fact, the sound of this baby dino brings anxiety to me…my shoulders tense up…my heart starts beating quickly…I clinch my jaw… No bueno.

So post-babywise, I love my happy, smiley, laughy, predictable baby.

Until, teething.

I still love my baby, but I don’t like the pterodactyl cries that are now 7 billion times louder than when he was a newborn. I now have permanently tense shoulders, my heart is beating on overdrive, and my jaw aches.

So, how have I survived this? I have a few techniques:

One)

Post on facebook “teething is no joke…[insert baby name] and I are both crying” and wait for every single mother on facebook to offer her advice – it is awesome! I didn’t have to google a thing.

Seriously, look:

Two) 

Texts to husband for sympathy… This text reminded him that I didn’t have time for my normal responsibilities like dishes, laundry, or even showering…and a plus, I protested making dinner and so he brought home In n’ Out.

On a scale from emotionless to feeler, I have all feelings for pretty much everyone on this earth.

I see a homeless person on the street, and I get a pit in the bottom of my stomach. A woman who throws herself at any available guy, and I feel her insecurity. A young teen experiencing a pregnancy, I experience her wide pang of emotions.

My heart feels to the uttermost of its’ being. Not sure exactly why I am wired that way. Some days it feels like a curse. Other days I am so thankful for it because I can understand.

Today is one of those days where it feels like a curse. My heart is heavy with the sorrow that this world is surrounded by.

Men, women, and children around the world suffering because they don’t have the money to buy food or purchase needed medication or the access to clean water.

Women all over the world being trapped in a difficult relationship because of an abusive husband.

Boys growing up without fathers.

Countries in utter turmoil and unrest. Wars. Famine. Catastrophes.

Each person, hurting.

And in the last few weeks, videos popping up about sweet, precious children dying. Their lives being sold for someone’s gain – being labeled as tissue and specimen. Being taken before their lives even have a chance to see light, to breathe air, to feel and hear and love.

Helpless beings without any ability to save themselves.

And we just sit here.

No, we allow it to happen even. We create laws to legalize it.

My heart cannot comprehend it.

In war it is almost an unspoken rule that if you are female or a child you are untouchable. If a person can kill a child, they have no soul. Without question, people damn them and scream profanities at them.

Please, please…someone tell me how this is different? Why is a baby who has not exited her mother’s womb fair game? Why are you praised for such a thing? Why is it acceptable?

Several people have told me that this is about freedom to choose and to not have government choose what is and what isn’t medically administered to a person. But, what about what is medically right for that baby? And when did doctorally supervised murder become medical?

That baby never had a chance to petition on the steps of our nations capitol. It never had the chance to scream out in pain, scream out and beg for mercy.

Mercy. Not getting what you deserve.

Grace. Getting what you don’t deserve.

Does one deserve to die because they don’t have a voice? In order to cry out for mercy, in order to cry out for grace, that assumes that you are deserving of a punishment, yet you receive the opposite. Usually one deserves to die because of wrong doing.

You receive mercy and grace when you are being condemned to death, yet you receive life.

Yet, these sweet infants are being condemned to death, undeservedly. They are being punished for the sins of their mother and father. They are crying out for grace and mercy, yet they have done nothing wrong.

Sound familiar?

I think Jesus knows exactly how these young ones feel. A man, undeserving of death, dies a murderers death. He is beaten, mocked, and brutally killed. His death being praised by the crowds.

These babies are brutally killed. Torn from limb to limb. Mocked (told they have no value…they are nothing but “tissue” and “specimen”). Praised by the people, praised by the crowd.

But thank God, Jesus defeats death. He has taken the place of you and I. He has died for us – given us grace and mercy.

When a day is so heavy and my heart aches for these babies and their mamas who will forever live without the sweet presence of their lives, I can turn to the Word.

James 5:7-12 was such a sweet reminder to me today.

“Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and the late rains. You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand. Do not grumble against one another, brothers, so that you may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing at the door. As an example of suffering and patience, brothers, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. Behold, we consider those blessed who remained steadfast. You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful. But above all, my brothers, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or by any other oath, but let your “yes” be yes and your “no” be no, so that you may not fall under condemnation.”

These verse are a sweet reminder that the Lord is coming and to be patient just as the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth. We must wait trusting that the Lord’s completed work is just a season away from coming to fruition.

But, it doesn’t just tell us to wait twiddling our fingers. We are to wait as the prophets waited – proclaiming Jesus’ name. We are to wait as Job waited – bring glory to God through his adversity in steadfastness.

We are to wait in steadfastness remembering the purpose of the Lord: compassion and mercy. We are to establish our hearts in these truths knowing that one day the Judge will come.

Amen.

This Mother’s Day, I wrote my mom a note instead of buying some fancy card that has a catchy saying. Not because I was trying to be cheap, but because Mother’s day had become so much more to me than just a day to celebrate my mom. Though I was thankful for my mom and wanted to celebrate her, I never quite understood the love she felt toward me or the sacrifice her life was for my siblings and I.

First of all, labor. This, in and of itself, is a bonding experience. The pain you go through to meet your baby is excruciating, but beautiful. It is difficult to explain. You endure nine long months of pregnancy to welcome your baby through hours of painful and exhausting contractions. The baby is out and the feeling of joy is immense and strong. Looking into your babies eyes is powerful. I still tear up thinking about this first moment with Jackson lying on my chest, staring into my eyes.

Second, sacrifice. To most, sleep is a precious thing that few are willing to give up. On my best days in college, I got 9.5 hours of sleep. On my worst, I got zero, but I would quickly make it up after the test/quiz/paper was turned in. Same after college, I loved sleep and made sure I always got plenty of it. It was super important to me. Growing up, my parents would wonder where I was only to find me asleep in bed. I love my sleep. This is something that was soon lost when Jackson arrived. My labor was from 3pm on Monday to 6am on Tuesday (though, I slept quite a bit during labor…don’t ask me how, but I did, and it was amazing). And after he was born, I didn’t sleep until later that night.  Then the subsequent nights were spent waking every two hours to feed him, change his diaper, and soothe his cries. That is just one small sacrifice of the many you make as a mother. Others include: nights out with your friends into the wee hours of the night, spontaneous road trips, alone time, long showers, pre-pregnancy body, boobs that aren’t constantly being utilized for their milk production, etc., etc., etc….

This past week, I so looked forward to Mother’s Day. I had no expectations except to enjoy the day for what it was. I gave some hints to my husband of things I would appreciate (breakfast, flowers, card). But even then, if those things didn’t happen, I made a commitment to myself that I was going to enjoy the day for what it was, celebrating motherhood in all of its glory thankful for God, my husband, and my son for giving me the chance to be a mother.

It exceeded my expectations considerably!! What a beautiful day!

Here’s some pictures of how the day went:

Jackson in his dedication/Mother’s Day outfit

Jackson in his dedication/Mother’s Day outfit

Jackson in his dedication/Mother’s Day outfit

Jackson in his dedication/Mother’s Day outfit

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Jackson being dedicated – 5/10/15

Snuggling on the couch with my boys

My beautiful Mother’s Day Flowers

My beautiful Mother’s Day Flowers

Mother’s Day card from Jackson (aka Eric)

Mother’s Day card from Jackson (aka Eric)

I grew up going to Christian school – kindergarten until I graduated college.

College graduation 3 years ago yesterday (5/5/12)…crazy how quickly time flies!

I loved my experience in private, christian school. It taught me so much. We had so many great experiences and life lessons that have followed me into adulthood. Among the great life lessons were the chapel songs we sang each week. I can still sing you the songs and do the hand motions from songs we sung in elementary school.

The superman song is one that still pops into my head whenever someone says “superman.” The words say: “I got freckles on my nose and holes in my shoes. The wrong color clothes and a missing tooth; I’m not superman. God, you made me the kid that I aaaaaaaammmm. Thank you God for who I am! I don’t have to be a superman! Thank you God for who I am! All I want to be is YOUR BEST FRIEND!!!”

When I was a kid, I didn’t really understand what it meant to try to be someone else. I was myself and I sure didn’t require perfection out of myself. If anything, I gave myself more grace than I should have. As I grew, that changed quite a bit. I cared more and more what people thought about me. Life became a game of picking and choosing pieces of my life to share and pieces of my life to tuck away and hide, to leave them in the dark.

My husband and I at our friend’s wedding – post-wedding, pre-baby 🙂

Galatians 5:1, “For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” 

John 3:19-21, “And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.”

Luke 11:33-36, “No one after lighting a lamp puts it in a cellar or under a basket, but on a stand, so that those who enter may see the light. Your eye is the lamp of your body. When your eye is healthy, your whole body is full of light, but when it is bad, your body is full of darkness. Therefore be careful lest the light in you be darkness. If then your whole body is full of light, having no part dark, it will be wholly bright, as when a lamp with its rays gives you light.”

2 Corinthians 12:9-10, “But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

My imperfect family 🙂 and our accidental photobomb… 🙂

I’d like to think I am a pretty trusting person. I would like to think that I am pretty trustworthy myself.

The reality is, I’m not either.

I think back to a situation in high school where I completely ditched one friend, who I told I would get ready at her house for prom or winter formal or whatever dance it was, to get ready at another friends house. I told that friend that I couldn’t come to their house because my parents were going out of town and couldn’t take me to her house. The truth: I thought the other friend was “cooler” or something so I ditched my original plans and chose to lie. So rude. And so deceitful. I lost a dear friend over that. I still remember the look on her face when I walked into the dance with my other friend. She was devastated and hurt. And I did everything in my power to avoid her that night because I knew I was guilty. Until the end of high school, I justified it and lied even to myself about the situation trying to make it okay in my mind and make her seem like the ridiculous one for being “upset” about it. I still regret that choice today.

For your viewing pleasure: me and friends, at a dance, in high school. And not the same dance from the story above.

Now, I know that it has been manyyyyy years since high school, and I am not the same person, but I can list a story similar to that in every stage of my life from when I was a little kid in elementary school, to junior high, high school, college, and now in my adult life. I try my best to make honest decisions these days, and when I do mess up, I try everything in my power to apologize and make that relationship right.

But, alas, I am human. I make mistakes. I sin. 

Now for the being a trusting person part, I would say I am better at this. Goodness, though, loving someone completely without boundaries and without a guard up, that is hard. And I would say I never really did completely. Until, I became a mother.

I love my husband so much, but even in that relationship, he can hurt me. He can make me sad. Mad. Upset. And, he has done all of those things (I know, big surprise, right? ;)). Walls get put up and relationships suffer because of sin and pain (I’m not saying this is right, I’m just saying how it is). Love is done in reservation and in fear, and then it becomes tainted and dull. It becomes watered-down, a fainter version of the real thing.

Wedding Day – 2.21.14

I was thinking about the love I have for Jackson and everything he means to me, and I thought, he never really has done anything to hurt me (except the labor part, but that’s beside the point…and I kinda did that to myself by choosing to get pregnant – HA!).

Jackson has never lied to me.

He’s never deceived me.

He’s never tried to trick me.

He’s never made fun of me.

He’s never hit me or pinched me or bit me or punched me.

What post is complete without a sweet picture of Jackson? 😉

He, being new to this world, has a new, unblemished slate. I look at him and my whole heart feels as if it could burst from the joy and happiness he brings me. The love I have for him is so deep. The love I have for him is so freeing. But, it also has not been tarnished by hurt or pain. And even when it does eventually get hurt, my love for him will not leave.

Now, adults, whew, I have a hard time loving…I mean fully loving. I can like. I can “love.” But, even with a clean slate, there is always a wall up. A sweet, little 2-month baby doesn’t have the capability to lie to me (because he can’t talk). He can’t deceive me or make fun of me. There is innocence. Adults don’t have the innocence of a child. They have the ability to lie. They are hurtful. They can be cruel and mean. They are selfish, like I am.

And another for good measure, because he’s just so gosh-darn cute!

And, by me fully loving without reservation, I am putting myself out on a limb. There is serious risk involved. My heart is involved, and my heart is fragile. And it’s been hurt before.

But.

How different would my life look if I did truly love? If I loved with a risky, limb-climbing love? Loved with the love I have for my own child? A deep, innocent, nonjudgemental love? What if I loved my husband as 1 Corinthians 13 tells me to love – without thought of a past mistake, without selfishness? What if I loved my friends without regard to their imperfection? What if I loved my parents as though they hadn’t hurt me in the past? My siblings like they had done no wrong?

I think that kind of love could change the world. And, I think, starting today, I am going to try it. Going to put myself out on a limb and take the risk. Because people are worth it. And love is worth it. And the joy I feel from loving my son with that kind of love is such an amazing feeling. It’s so freeing!

I mean, c’mon, the best example of love gave His life for loves sake. He so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son (…that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life…I know you know the verse by heart…). He gave his life for people who hurt him way more brutally than anyone has ever hurt me. The least, the bare minimum, I can do is love.

Who is it you love without boundaries, without a guard up, or have you not experienced this love yet? Who and how can you love better today? Who can you love with a risky, limb-climbing love?

Okay, last one, I promise…well at least for this post…

Sleep. Something I have come to love in my 25 years of life. Something I have lost in the last 2 months of my baby’s life and miss dearly.

One of the main questions people ask me when they find out I have a two month old…”how is he sleeping?”

I think back to the night before and answer accordingly: “Normally he is a pretty good sleeper, but last night was rough,” “Great! He slept for 7 hours straight!!!” “He slept for 5 hours straight, then was up for every two hours…” So on and so forth.

About two weeks into Jackson’s life, I made an investment…a $20 investment…

a magical noise machine. (Okay, so it’s not really magical, but its effect is magical!)

Best $20 we have ever spent. He can be crying until his face turns blue and the second you turn on the white noise we have a peaceful baby. It’s almost freaky how well it works.

At church, I was telling someone about our magical noise machine and immediately Psalm 23 popped into my head…”The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul…”

Most days, I am exactly like Jackson… Crying till my face turns blue. Anxious. Unsettled. Chaotic. Unsure of the future. (And, like Jackson, it’s usually when I’m hungry…or hangry as my husband calls it)

In a moment, I am beside the quiet, still waters of his Word, and I find peace. It’s magical…or mystical…whatever word you prefer. He restores my soul.

I spend so much time in the “valley of the shadow of death,” but I spend my time there fearing evil because I forget that God is with me and I forget that I can turn to Him and I will find peace by the calm stream of His Word.

Like the wiseman in Psalm 1, when I delight in the law of the Lord and meditate on it day and night, I will be like a tree planted by streams of water, who produces fruit in season, and whose leaf does not wither. That is soul restoring. That is peace.

Lord, please help me to delight myself in your word, to meditate on it day and night. To walk, or crawl if I need to, to the quiet streams of your word that bring peace. Please give me peace like that of my son, who can sleep in the midst of any chaos or noise (mostly). Help me to stay grounded in you.

Jackson and Olivia hanging out at my birthday dinner last night.

And, just like that, another birthday has come and gone.

Boy, does time fly, or what?!

I had always heard that phrase growing up, but until you are married with a baby, I don’t think you understand quite fully the gravity of that statement. Two hours feels like two minutes. One month feels like one week.

Throughout this year, I have learned so much…and thats only the tip of the iceberg.

I have learned (some of what it means) to be a wife:

Marriage is not always easy. But it’s not quite as difficult as I thought it was going to be either. I heard the first year was full on screaming matches and brawls. So far, none of that. And I’m thankful. Though, we have had some very intense conversations about very serious topics, God is walking us through each and every obstacle, and I’m thankful. I love my best friend!

Difficult things in this life are not supposed to be walked through alone. Thankfully Eric and I haven’t had to do that. We have had major help in our marriage by some great people: our parents, our pastors, friends, family, etc. The biggest help was God. Once I became pregnant, I realized (once again) the importance of seeking God first. I knew diving into the Bible daily was important if I wanted to seek any peace and joy in my life and in my marriage. He has done just that.

I couldn’t imagine walking through this life with someone different. Eric is so special to me. He understands me and gets me. He is hilarious, loving, and caring. He is passionate and hardworking! One of my favorite country songs right now is “Shotgun Rider” by Tim McGraw; it says, “I don’t ever wanna wake up, looking into someone else’s eyes | another voice calling me baby on the other end of the phone | a new girl putting on her makeup before dinner on Friday night | I don’t ever wanna know-ohhhh, no other shotgun rider beside me singing to the radio-ohhhhh.” Every time that song comes on the radio, I can help but think of how grateful I am for Eric and walking through this life with me. I couldn’t do it without him.

I have learned (some of what it means) to be a mother:

I grew up with a pretty great mom and pretty great parents. But with anything, you always think, “I could do that better…” Then you become a parent and you realize all that your parents went through to raise you and all that they sacrificed, and you take back that statement.

Parenting is hard and parenting takes sacrifice…and I’m only two months into it (minus one week). The amount of sleep lost since Jackson’s birth currently is probably a total of all the sleep I’ve lost in my lifetime. And it only continues. And it is all worth it! Seeing him learn and grow and develop; Seeing him smile and interact. Watching as his eyes follow you across the room and his arms and legs flail up and down in excitement. When he is crying at the top of his lungs and the minute you pick him up, he is calm. Him snuggling on your chest and falling asleep (what he is doing as I type). The reward for being a mom is amazing…and I am sure it only gets better! Imagine when he can talk?! 😉

I have learned (some of what it means) to be an employee:

I spent time at my job (until November) being an employee working under bosses. I worked alongside of my peers. I developed new systems and organized different things. I answered phones and interacted with people coming into the office. In the grand scheme of things, none of that matters, but what matters was consistency and faithfulness to a job, submitting to leadership, and showing love to others. The tasks in and of themselves did not matter, but what matters was what that produced in me. I am so thankful for Seabreeze Church and the job opportunity I had there learning and growing. I do miss working and spending time with my coworkers, but I love being a mom even more!

I have learned (some of what it means) to be a church member:

I can’t tell you how much of an impact that Seabreeze Church has had on my life. Most of my friends that I currently have somehow stemmed from that church. My marriage has Seabreeze to thank. And so does my baby. Without Seabreeze, I would have never met Eric, and I would not have Jackson. I couldn’t imagine living a different life than the one I am now.

Though, I don’t always agree on decisions the church makes, and I don’t get along with everyone always, it is a family. And just like in a family, you stay together and you work through problems and issues and you become stronger. Without the church, I would be so lost. No one to guide me in raising my baby, in strengthening my marriage. No one to teach me about God and guide me in learning more about Him. No moms to hang out with and spend time with who share my goals and desires for my baby. The measure of church really is priceless.

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Wow, 25.

Not sure how I got here, but I am thankful nonetheless. A quarter of a century filled with family, friends, learning and growing, hard times and great times, a new baby, my marriage, a college degree, new jobs…all within the first 25 years of my life. Thankful doesn’t even come close to explaining how I feel.

Thanks everyone for being apart of my life. For being my friends and investing your time into my life. For taking part in the joys of my life. For walking beside me in the difficult times, crying with me. For challenging me and confronting me when I have things that need to change. For sharing wisdom with me and teaching me. For being who you are to me, whoever you are. For leading me to Christ. For pushing me to be more like him. Thanks.