Unfinished Business

I really like to knit. 

I've finished quite a few projects the past few years. Blankets, cowls, scarves, dish rags, shawls, and hats of various sizes, shapes, and colors. However, there is one project that I have had in progress for almost a year and a half. 

It's unfinished business.

Truthfully, I haven't finished it because I'm on a really monotonous part, it's a much more difficult project than I've ever done, and it has a big mix of emotions tied to it. Working on it doesn't typically make me feel warm and fuzzy like knitting usually does (tehe warm and fuzzy...yarn...like that?) 

But I just don't do well with leaving things unfinished. 

As I picked up this project tonight (having failed miserably at the new one I was attempting), I began to reflect on how I would really like to get it done and over with, I realized it's a lot like what I'm facing in therapy right now. 

I absolutely adore my new therapist. She is gentle, compassionate, appreciates art, music, and creativity, listens well, and is pushing me lovingly but firmly to do the hard things. I've been stuck at the point I'm at for a while now, and her fresh perspective has been helpful...and painful. We came to the realization that most of what I am struggling with right now has a common theme. I don't know how to handle anger. My anger, other people's anger, anger toward individuals, toward God, toward society, toward certain states in the US passing absolutely detestable legislation (there are no words strong enough to articulate how I feel about that-and we're done.) 

I'm still praying through it and asking God for insight on why this is such an issue. There are some things I know already. I didn't have a lot of guidance on how to handle anger appropriately, as a believer or an unbeliever. I also associate anger completely with sin, which makes me afraid to feel anger, and I am terrified of being the cause of someone else's anger. I am NOT a stuffer. I wear my emotions on my sleeve, which can have it's benefits at times but also tends to have a cost. Anger, however, is one that I may or may not wear so well. 

I am triggered when I see someone else get angry.

I am triggered when I begin to feel angry.

I am triggered when I articulate my anger to God or another human.

I am triggered most of all when someone else is clearly angry at me. 

I mostly stuff my anger because I don't know how to outlet those feelings in a God honoring, safe, and loving way. I don't want to sin. I've spent my whole life living out a performance-based mentality, fighting to win the love, attention, and affection of others (a huge part of my testimony. Maybe I'll have to share that here sometime!) which means I default to the fear that God will not love me anymore if I fail (a lie from the pit!) When I get triggered in this way, it tends more toward the panic attack kind of response. I spent an hour and fifteen minutes sitting in the back of a parking lot in my van the other day, waiting for the panic to pass, after receiving a very harsh, anger filled message. Once I finally felt too exhausted to cry and gasp for breath anymore, I headed to the gym and threw myself into a 75 minute workout that made me feel like I was going to die. And frankly, I would have been fine with that at the time.

Needless to say, I have issues. (Don't we all?)

Why do I share this? Because I don't think I'm the only one. It's confusing. It's scary. It SUCKS. There is also only one way forward, and that is to go backward. 

And so, starting now-ish, I get to dive into the things that God has brought to mind that have caused me anger; anger that I have not dealt with. In most cases I can honestly say I've forgiven any involved parties, but I still feel anger over the injustice. I have to keep reminding myself that anger in and of itself is not sinful. It is how we respond to it that can be. I have to let myself feel in a way that I haven't ever before. I can already feel the panic welling up inside of me just thinking about what that might be like. I know that it's the path to healing though, and I really, really want to heal. Especially before Otis can dig in and use this more than he already has.

If you are a person that knows me and loves me, perhaps you can offer up some extra grace and support during this season. If you don't, well, please pray anyway. 

Just like this lovely knitting project, I am going to tackle my unfinished business. 

In a Dark, Dark Room

Does anyone else remember that book from their childhood? Scared the pants off me in first grade, particularly the story about the girl with the ribbon around her neck. Yet for some reason I read it a lot.

Anyway, that is totally not the point of this post. Just a little throwback. 

I had a great "Jesus time" last week. (The gals in my small group and I decided to call it that instead of "quiet time" because we feel like "quiet time" strongly implicates that we have a designated 1-2 hour in-depth, uninterrupted, revelation-packed, life-changing encounter with God. You know, like all mothers of small children do on a daily basis.) Here is the scripture that grabbed me: 

From one man he created all the nations throughout the whole earth. He decided beforehand when they should rise and fall, and he determined their boundaries. His purpose was for the nations to seek after God and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him-though he is not far from any one of us. Acts 17:26-27

For a little context, this is the part in Acts where Paul is speaking to the council in Athens about their "Unknown God". Paul says he knows who this God is, and proceeds to explain who God is and to share the Good News with the Athenians. 

I have had some really, really dark days in the past year or so. Like...really dark. These verses jumped off the page at me for a couple of reasons. 

1. "He (God) decided beforehand when they (the nations) should rise and fall, and he determined their boundaries."

So, without getting into the subject of predestination (because that is NOT my point here), what I see is that God had a plan for the people. He determined their rise and fall, and their boundaries. 

Main point: God is sovereign. 

So, related to my dark days, wouldn't that mean that God totally knew they were coming? Yep. Did he maybe even decide they would happen? Yep. Did he determine the context and details in which they would happen? You betcha. 

Once Upon a January Homeschool Morning

Once upon a time, there was a homeschool mom with five cute, sweet, bright little children. It was a mild but windy January morning, and she awoke with the same feelings of anxiety and general hesitancy about diving into a new school week that she always does. It had been about four weeks since she had done any school with the children, so the new semester would likely be met with an unusual degree of resistance. Nevertheless, today was a day that had been greatly anticipated. Today was the first time her oldest child would experience standardized testing. 

Now, to most parents, this wouldn't likely be something to look forward to. For public school families it can be stressful ensuring that the child knows what to expect, is well rested, and of course the question of "how does my child measure up?" For homeschool families there is some of the same, but with the added stress of "am I teaching my child the right things?" and "if she fails, does that mean I've failed as a homeschooler?" In the case of this unusual family, both mother and child were eager for the challenge and to see how their schooling could be adapted to better suit the child.   

Before long there was a knock at the door, and mother and child eagerly ushered the test administrator to the dining room table. Mom took her seat in the living room to knit while listening in on the test as it was administered. The test of choice, the Peabody Individual Achievement Test, was to be given orally by a trained administrator over the course of the next hour. 

The hour flew by and the bright young lady cheerfully and brilliantly stepped up to the challenge. As the administrator finalized the results, mom sat in awe of what she had witnessed. Her daughter had not only passed with flying colors, but surpassed her grade level in every academic category.

Thrilled by these results and feeling quite prideful, there were many celebratory high fives and hugs. Mom immediately felt a weight lifted from her shoulders as she realized that, despite her efforts to sabotage her child's education with an exasperating amount of life change in the past year, homeschooling was proving to be a success by all worldly standards. 

My friends...pride comes before the fall. 

An hour later we...I mean they...were packing up the van for a special trip to the library. (After sending pictures of the test results to both sets of grandparents, of course, in case there was any doubt in their minds that homeschooling was going to be beneficial to their grandchildren.) Mom confidently and proudly unloaded the crew in the library parking ramp and marched them in to pick out books that would most certainly propel their love of learning to even deeper levels. Forty-nine books later, at the check-out computer, is where it all fell apart. 

Temper tantrum.

Epic. Temper. Tantrum.

Child rolling on floor, screaming, crying, using hateful and blasphemous speech toward the enemy mother. Why? Because she had to wear shoes.

(It's winter. In Minnesota. Shoes are not optional. This is not a new thing.)

There is no reasoning. There is no rationalizing. There is no bribery that can turn around the inexplicable wrath of the preschooler. No arms strong enough, no shoes sparkly enough, and no snack tasty enough to lure her into the stroller. Mother is left to corral flailing preschooler, hangry toddler, sleepy infant, two highly annoyed older children and forty-nine library books (divided between five backpacks) plus a diaper bag and a stroller to the parking ramp as quickly as possible. 

Yep. Pride before the fall. Pride shattered. Humility received.

Lesson? Best to humble myself, lest God have to do it for me. 

This is life as mom. Live, learn, and remain humble. Celebrate the wins but don't become arrogant. Those temper tantrums are always at the ready to remind us that we don't have it all figured out. Forgive ourselves when it works out this way because, sisters, we will all be that mom one day or another...or many. 

Mamas, I salute you. And next time you see a mama at the library with her screaming children, give her a hug. She probably needs it. 

Pondering My Church Planting Experience and an Admonishment

Over the past four weeks or so, I've had two comments stand out to me in which I was specifically addressed as a "church planter". Yes, I suppose this is true. My family and I did that thing where you sell your house, get a new job, move, and spend most of your time meeting people in your new community and helping to support and grow a new church. It was a huge step of faith. And I'm certainly going to embrace the promises that God makes for people who do such a thing (helloooo Mark 10:28-30). But...what I'd like to focus on today is the face that you and I aren't that different. We aren't different at all, really. Or at least we shouldn't be. 

We are very careful not to say that we moved to Rochester because "God told us to." The truth is that God invited us to. We chose to accept that invitation and embark on a journey unlike any other. We've chosen to embrace certain aspects of the "missionary lifestyle". What I hope to help you understand today, however, is that it doesn't matter if you go or stay, if you move an hour away or half a world away. We are the same. We are called to the same thing.

We are seed sowers, church growers. Gospel preachers and people reachers. We are Truth tellers and Jesus sellers. You and I are the same in God's eyes. We have received the same free gift, and we are uniquely chosen to pass that gift on through the power of our testimony and the circle of influence we have been placed in by God's grace alone.

There is nothing about me as an individual or us as a family that uniquely qualifies us to live differently than you. Being on this "church plant" has definitely changed me, but in many ways I grieve the fact that it took this long for me to truly understand. Why aren't we all living as "church planters"? Why did it take giving up familiarity, precious relationships, a settled home, and a beloved church for me to see what God was asking of me when He commissioned me? 

There are many ways that my life changed as God opened my eyes to this calling...the calling in Matthew 28:16-20. I would like to share some of them with you today in hopes that you will feel stirred to prayerfully examine the way you are (or are not) living out the Great Commission. I do not share this to boast at all. It is purely by God's grace and the strength of the Holy Spirit that we have been able to even attempt to make any difference here in Rochester, especially in the face of so many personal trials. So please, let God work through my experiences so that you can live more fruitfully for Him.

1. The church isn't a building.

Those of you who attend my "old church" know that this has been spoken about on many occasions. But I didn't really, truly understand until I became a part of a church that doesn't have a permanent home yet. We rent a space that we set up and tear down every Sunday before and after our service. It's a ton of work...and a spectacular bonding experience with our new church body. More importantly, though, is the way that it changes the focus from "what are we" as a church to "who are we" as a church. Our sweet little church doesn't have a plethora of ministries to get involved in. That is intentional...it's not part of our vision. Our vision is relationship. Isn't that what Jesus wants? We don't have offices, classrooms, and designated ministry spaces that define us. We have people. Most of us had never even met one another when we came here. I remember walking into church for the first time, at our pastor's home, and thinking "Ok God. This is the family you picked for me. Show me how to love them." 

So, my friends, how do you see church? Do you pick and choose who you love, who you associate with, and who you think is more "worthy" of the Gospel? When you think of "going to church" do you think of walking through the doors of a familiar building, or of embracing (both physically and conversationally) a group of people that are doing life just like you are? Is church a place to be fed spiritually, or is it a place to encourage and be encouraged? Is it about the what or the who?

2. The only thing I'm here to sell is Jesus.

I've been involved in many MLM companies throughout my adult years. One thing that they've all had in common is the way you grow your business. You are your best advertisement. Whether you're selling lipstick, purses, oils, salt and pepper shakers, or buttery leggings, the way you grow your business is to dress the part. Everywhere you go, you enter in with the mindset of "who can I talk to about my business today?" or "who needs what I have?" Well, guess what...there's something WAY more useful and life changing than lipstick and leggings. It's Jesus, right? If we believe it, why don't we live it out?

Since coming to Rochester, and much thanks to the encouragement of my pastors, I've learned to watch for and seek out opportunities to talk about God and about my church. It's been a lonely road these first few months, so I'll often find myself searching for something to do during the day with my kids. Two of my favorites are Chick-fil-a (hooray for indoor play areas!) and the library. Each time I go out, I pray that God will lead me to people that I can talk to about Him and about the reason I came here. I've had some incredible conversations with total strangers about their spiritual journeys, and had countless opportunities to invite people to church. No, it doesn't happen every time. Sometimes I shrink back. But when I choose to be bold, it yields beautiful results.

So...even if you haven't moved to help start a church, have you been looking for opportunities to share about God and to invite others to your church? Whether you go to a large church or small, new or old, contemporary or old fashioned, how are you seeking to help grow the Kingdom? 

3. Serve, not be served.

We have all been encouraged to serve in our church. We hear it from the pulpit. We hear it from our small group leaders. And (hopefully) we read it in the Bible. I came here from a very large church that had unending opportunities to serve which I could choose based on my unique giftings and interests. I could run my finger down a list, choose a ministry that appealed to me, sign up to serve once or twice, and feel like I had done my part. What happened when I came here, to a church of 30 adults, when we needed 32 people to run a Sunday service? Well, I couldn't get choosy, that's for sure! It's a pretty simple way to operate. You see a need, you check and see if you're available, and you fill the need. You do what needs doing, when it needs doing, and offer up your energy with a thankful heart. This has been one of the most transformative experiences of my entire life.

Don't get me wrong, spiritual gift surveys have their place. Making an effort to use our gifts in the most efficient way possible has its place. But there is something so beautiful and freeing about saying, "here I am Lord, send me!" and letting go of what we want for the good of the body. Sunday is my favorite day of the week. Not only do I get to be around people that are above the age of seven (I do love my kids, but I spend more time talking about cats and wiping butts than I care to sometimes), but I get to go and give of myself fully in response to the way God gave His son for me. I dream of serving on the worship team and using the gifts that God gave me (and my music education). Right now though, that's not what God has. Right now he has other holes in the church that need to be filled. I never imagined myself as the ministry leader for Sunday school, and it has been one of the most encouraging, humbling, and lovely experiences of my spiritual walk.

So...are you more focused on serving for YOU, or serving for GOD? Are you more concerned about what you have to give, than where the church needs giving? What would happen if you stepped outside of your comfort zone and filled a need that makes you a little bit uncomfortable, even if only for a short time? Are you serving because you hope that experience will serve you, or are you serving because you sincerely desire to give of yourself out of a deep sense of gratitude to your heavenly father? 

This post is getting a bit long, so I think that will be it for tonight. My point, dear brothers and sisters, is this. YOU are a church planter too. Instead of leaving the church planting up to the "church planters", come with me on this journey. Pray that God will change our hearts as His body. Pray that we can be used in unimaginable ways; that we can live outside ourselves supernaturally and enjoy the fruit that comes from it. Pray that the Holy Spirit will equip us to serve even when we don't feel like it. Pray that He will use us as His hands and feet, and build his kingdom and His church through our feeble efforts. 

Date Night

Unfortunately I'm not talking about the kind I wish I was talking about. No, sadly, we are long overdue. For now those date nights are locking ourselves in our bedroom with a frozen pizza and a glass of wine, hoping to forget about the fact that the rest of our house is a disaster.

I'm talking about a different kind of date night. A date night with that obnoxious roommate of mine. A date night with Otis. 

For those of you familiar with OCD and its treatments, this is my way of referencing ERPT...exposure and response prevention therapy. According to many professionals, this is the most highly recommended and most effective form of treatment for OCD. I began this type of treatment not long after my diagnosis, under the supervision of my new therapist. 

The basis of the therapy is to purposely trigger an intrusive thought, and then sit there and ride out the entire rise, peak, and fall of the anxiety without engaging in any compulsions. Sounds pretty simple, right? Well let me put it in simpler terms for you.

Imagine you had a phobia of spiders. It's like going to your therapist's office, letting her put a spider on your arm, and not being allowed to freak out about it. 

That's a pretty watered down version, but you get the point. To willingly let someone trigger your scary thoughts and to not be able to respond in the ways that typically make you feel better is a horrific experience, to say the least. The science behind it makes sense though. It's about learning to experience the anxiety without seeking false reassurance of safety. When someone with OCD experiences a trigger, we generally cope with that trigger in some sort of unhealthy (or at least unhelpful) way. My therapist informed me that the human body can only remain in a full blown anxious state for a certain number of minutes. So, by practicing ERP, we learn to ride out the tidal wave of anxiety without engaging in our compulsions. For someone with contamination OCD it might look like touching a public door handle and then riding out the panic attack without being able to wash your hands. Each time you do it, the tidal wave gets smaller and shorter, so eventually it feels completely manageable and does not interrupt daily life. 

Or so they tell me.

I didn't continue seeing that therapist because of a stark difference in world views. It was getting in the way of my ability to be vulnerable. Thankfully I am seeing a new therapist that is taking a much gentler approach to the concept. I haven't made a ton of progress yet, but the journey is only beginning. In order to make it more understandable to you and easier to accept for me, I think of it like a date night with Otis. Here's how the first one went.

After a brief period of self-reflection, I was able to compose a list of some of the things that OCD has stolen from me. Part of this exercise was listing out the things that once brought me joy but have now become triggers because they are associated with triggering memories. For example: I have a love of knitting, fuzzy blankets, and chai tea lattes. Any one of these things on its own are only mildly triggering. I knit a LOT. In most cases it's a very helpful distraction from OCD, and a healthy replacement for my outward compulsions (scratching, picking, hair pulling, etc.) But if you put these three things together it is the perfect storm of triggers. The heavy association with a relationship gone sour, one that has become the source of some extremely wretched intrusive thoughts, causes that combination to send me soaring into an OCD tornado. 

I was journaling about it and came to the realization that it is just plain sad that I allowed OCD, and this relationship, to steal the things I love from me. And I'm sick of it.

Enter Otis and the aforementioned date night. He even dressed up...

I'm not typically a bow tie kind of girl, but it suits him.

In a state of sheer determination to reclaim these things that I love, I chose to engage with them all at the same time. I sat on the couch, mug of chai in hand, covered in my newest fuzzy blanket, and proceeded to knit a simple dishcloth.

Ugh.

It went surprisingly well. I didn't panic. I felt a little sick to my stomach, my knitting stitches definitely became tighter, and I was sweating a little bit. But I survived. Even better, I felt a bit victorious. 

Inviting Otis to sit down with me, looking him in his ugly, blood shot eyes, and choosing to listen to his cheap talk brought me one step closer to reclaiming a bit of myself that has gotten lost in the throws of life with OCD.  

It's a very tricky thing though. I find it much easier to work toward overcoming outward compulsions like nail biting and skin picking. It's become fairly easy for me to recognize when they are happening. Nate recognizes too, and can help point it out to me. When the compulsions are internal, or mental, as in what is often referred to as "pure O" OCD, that becomes so much trickier for two reasons. One: no one else can see inside my head to catch me engaging in my mental compulsions. Two: most of the time I don't even realize that my thoughts have slipped from obsession to compulsion. 

(Here is a better description of Pure O, if you are interested.)

Needless to say, I have a long journey ahead. I am thankful for everything I have learned so far, and for the fact that there are ways to grow and work through my OCD. Unfortunately, knitting, chai, and fuzzy blankets are only the beginning. 

To my fellow OCD sufferers reading this blog, you know what I'm talking about. I admire you, applaud you, and pray that you will continue to find victory in your treatment as well. I'd love to know though...what has your ERP journey looked like? How are you implementing these skills in your daily life? How do you stay encouraged? Please comment here or on FB. I'd love to learn from your wisdom and experience.

For the rest of you, thank you for taking the time to read this, to learn, and to understand. It is such a blessing to have a network of support, and to know that I have cheerleaders out there that are routing for me. Please continue to pray that Otis and I can learn to live in harmony. 

When She Noticed

I was having a sweet time of discipleship with my seven year old daughter the other day. She came to me and asked, "Mama, what do you do when God wants you to do something but you feel like it its too hard?"

We pulled a book off of my shelf called "God's Promises and Answers"; a wonderful introduction to the concept of a concordance. We opened it up to the section titled "when I feel discouraged".

I don't remember what verse we were reading when we came across a word she didn't recognize.

"Mama, what does 'affliction' mean?" 

"Well, sweetie, it's kind of like a sickness, or something that causes you pain."

"Oh...so like what you have?"

I felt my stomach lurch and my arms and legs grow heavy as one of my fears was realized. She had noticed. 

I know it's foolish to think that she wouldn't have caught on over the past several months. Between the hospital stay, the days I spend in bed, all the extra help around the house, and my change in temperament, things have not been what they used to be. I had hoped that she would chalk it up to my pregnancy and having a new baby sibling. Not so much. 

Her question certainly created a wonderful opportunity to talk about how God does not promise us a life free of affliction. We looked up scripture, talked about things in our lives that are hard, and prayed together. In hindsight it was a beautiful thing.

But I just couldn't swallow the fact that I had been found out. 

My therapist would tell you that this is all linked to the underlying issue of shame in my life. Everything seems to come back to it. We haven't quite gotten to shame's roots yet, but hopefully we will. I mean, why else am I paying so much money to dump my life story on someone? 

Enter God. Man, did He give me a good spiritual thump on the head! Shame or no shame, He had given me a golden parenting opportunity that was even more significant than I had already figured. And a humbling one at that.

Where does this lie come from that we need to make life perfect, easy, and lovely for our children all the time?

I know I wasn't raised that way (thank you, mom and dad, from the bottom of my heart!) and I've never believed that. Yet somehow I fell into the trap. The idea of my oldest child, my sweet little girl that is growing in awareness every day, noticing that I was struggling and maybe even failing, made me feel even more ashamed of my life and my perceived lack of fruit and accomplishment. The truth of the matter is that she is going to be far better off because of it.

See, our kids need to see us struggle. They need to see that we have challenges, that we don't feel well sometimes, that life is hard. They need to notice that mama isn't always happy, that her relationships can get rocky, and that she has to cry out to God. They need to see that she doesn't always feel His presence, that she is broken, and that she knows her need for a savior. Once our kids see those things they can see the other side. They can see the healing, the redemption, the faith, the growth, and the maturity. They can have a true understanding of humility, forgiveness, reliance on God, and sacrificial love. 

We lead by example. We can't just talk the talk, we also have to walk the walk. 

It's in that crazy, crooked, off-the-path, lost-in-the-woods-sometimes kind of walk that they find Christ. It doesn't happen through trying to be perfect wives, children, parents, disciples, servants, or anything else. They meet Jesus when they see us have to cry, ask for help, ask for forgiveness, and lean into family and faith. 

So today I have to say thank you, Lord, for OCD. Thank you for bad days. Thank you for my weakness. I rejoice in it now, and I pray that you will use it to lead others straight to you...especially my precious children. 

Please Lord, let her notice. 

Mr. Tootables and Seasoning Salt: a tribute to large families

I have five kids. Five. Now personally, most days, I don't feel like five is "a lot". Granted, I come from a church where 3, 4, 5, 9 kids isn't unusual. It's possible that my idea of "a lot" is a bit skewed. Nonetheless, you can bet I receive an astonishing number of comments when I choose to take my team out in public. Grocery store runs, the public library, miscellaneous errands around town. (Not so much at parks during the summer...I guess they stay spread out enough that no one notices.) 

Today, as a shout out to my "homies" with a "large" brood of their own, I'd love to address some of these magnificent remarks and my responses to them (mostly in my head). And yes, these are comments I have received in real lie. So here goes! 

1. Are they all yours?

Why yes, as a matter of fact, they are! I don't typically make a habit of picking up extras just to make my trip to Target a little more exciting. Not only are they all mine, but I actually pushed them all out myself! It's true! And guess what? I'm super glad that I did!!! 

Ok, for real though, yes they are. But at the same time, they aren't. These precious little souls belong completely to God. Every single one of them. For some strange and unexplainable reason, the Lord decided to entrust them to me for a time. Some day, I will have to give them back. One of them I already have. So for now, I am going to claim them, enjoy them, and relish every moment of the craziness. I am going to receive this charge (or five of them, I should say) as incredible blessings and treasure them with all my heart. 

"Children are a gift from the Lord, a reward from Him." Psalm 127:3

2. Do you run a daycare?

No. Just...no. (If you DO run a daycare, you are amazing and I respect you and your gifting! )The ones that I have are my family. I'm happy to love on my kids, but doing childcare is not my gifting. I appreciate the authority given to me by God over my own children, and thanks to His Word I have a guidebook of wisdom principles on how to manage them and raise them up to be (hopefully) faithful, wise, and strong in character. 

I'll admit, this one still leaves me slightly confused. So that's all I've got. 

3. How do you do it?

Most days I just barely do it. Most days I feel discouraged, lonely, and in over my head. So you are probably thinking, "then why did you have five of them?" Because I love it, and can't imagine my life without a single one. 

The point is, my friends, I can't do it. And if I try to do it in my own strength, I will fail. I can only do it with God's help. Being a mother, whether you are a mother of one, two, five, or ten, a biological mother or adoptive mother, a physical mother or a spiritual mother, requires leaning into The One who gives us the power and endurance to persevere through trials, the wisdom to teach and train, and the love to pour out when our cups feel empty and we don't want to do it. 

I often hear people say "God won't give you more than you can handle." False! He will do exactly that! God wants us to pursue Him, and the best way to get us to do it is to give us way more than we can handle. 

"And God will generously provide all you need. Then you will always have everything you need and plenty left over to share with others." 2 Corinthians 9:8

(Side note on the topic: here is a really neat Ask Pastor John on the subject of God giving us more than we can handle.)

4. You sure have your hands full!

Yes. Full of beautiful, sticky, goofy, boogery, delightful, memorable, slimy (yet satisfying...get that reference? Then hakuna matata to you!), memorable, wonderful moments and memories. Full of love, grace, opportunities for growth, and never ending laughter. Case in point:

Child: "Mama, my name is Mr. Tootables!"
Me: "Really?"
Child: "Yep! Isn't that funny?"

Child: "Mama, I have a pet dragon!!"
Me: "You do?" 
Child: "Yeah! It's name is Seasoning Salt!"

Beat that. Pretty sure you can't. *mic drop*

5. I could never do that. You must be superwoman!

No, not even close. I just have a super God. You should check Him out if you haven't already. You might be surprised by what you'll be capable of with the help of the Holy Spirit. I am surprised by that every single day.

6. You do know how that happens, right?

I saved the best one for last! Yes, can you believe that people have actually said this to me? I do know how it happens. Would you like me to explain it to you?

Sorry, not today folks. I'd say that blog post would be outside of my area of expertise, but clearly that isn't true...

God's timing for some of our children was definitely a little different than what we had in mind. But none of my kids were "an accident". So you can stop asking me this one. In fact, please stop asking anyone this one. First off, my family planning choices are between me, my husband, and the Lord. Our personal convictions are just that...personal. And yours are too, which is why I'm not asking you this question. 

God provides the blessing of children in many different ways, and always on his timeline. They may come in a manner that some would perceive as "mistakes" or "unplanned" or whatever. But just the way this question is worded leaves me feeling a sort of sadness and compassion for the person asking it. Children don't just happen. Children are a complete miracle, regardless of how or when they are conceived. Whether it's baby number five to a bustling Christian family, baby number six to a single mom that has had the first five taken from her, baby number one to a teenager that "has her whole life ahead of her". It doesn't matter. We need to change our mindset and understand that God gifted that life to that individual or family at that time. Yes, we know how it happens. Please join us in treasuring that miracle.

And side note to that single mama, or the mama that's given her kids up for adoption...God loves you. You did a great and wonderful thing. He is pleased with you. You and your child(ren) are treasured. Don't ever let anyone make you think any differently. 

And to the mamas and papas that keep on keepin' on, embracing the joy of large families and adding to your quiver, same to you. God loves you. He is pleased with you. He loves your children, and designed your family this way. He has a marvelous plan and mission for you.

Parents, I salute you. Cheers to sticky floors, poopy diapers, "Baby Shark" on repeat, and loading your mini van like a game of Tetris. Happy New Year, and may the Lord bless you with a year full of treasured memories. 

The day Otis made a friend

Remember Otis? Today I'm going to help you understand what relationship OCD looks like. Thanks to good ol' Otis. 

Well, about ten months or so ago, Otis made a friend. Of course I didn't recognize Otis was there yet, but he was. And he was crouched in the corner and ready to pounce. 

February of 2018. Hubby and I had just arrived home from our first short term mission trip to Haiti. It was incredible. I could write ten different blog posts about that trip and the work God did in my heart. He taught me so much, and lit a whole new fire in my soul. Up until that point my walk with the Lord had been solid, fruitful, beautiful. We served our church faithfully and soaked in the Word with a genuine desire to know Him more. We were doing out best to love people, even though we weren't anywhere near perfect at it. But Haiti. 

Haiti taught me just how far I had left to go. To be fully immersed in a culture that was so radically different. To be surrounded by Jesus-lovers with a faith so deep when I perceived them, at first, to have so much less than I did. To worship beside men and women of a different race, singing the same song as me but in a different language. I came back wanting nothing more than to realign myself with God's heart.

Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours. 

We really weren't sure what this would look like once we got home. On the one hand, I felt like we needed to sell everything we owned, move to Haiti, and start living simpler and more faith filled. I wanted to be closer to the people that had the kind of faith I desired...my new Haitian friends. We knew that wasn't what God was inviting us to do at that time. Instead, He invited us to be a part of a new church plant in Rochester, Minnesota. 

It wasn't a third world country, but at times it felt that radical. Part of it was because of how rapidly things moved. It was three weeks from the day we said "yes" to the day Nate started his new job. As things began to move more quickly we started to tell our dearest friends that we would be moving. Part of what got me through this step was the fact that we would only be about an hour and fifteen minutes south of our previous home. An easy day trip.

Well, this is where Otis pounced. I was taking a walk with one of my closest girlfriends one day and decided to break the news as gently as possible that we might be moving.I was in my first trimester of pregnancy with my fifth baby. Now, I'm assuming you've read my previous posts for a little back story here. Up to this point I had already been struggling in the area of my mental health on and off for several years. This friend was fully aware. She had seen some of my darkest moments. She had been there to support me, and I never expected that would change. But she said something to me that was instantly seared into my mind.

"With your history of postpartum depression, how can you know you'd be an asset to a church plant?" 

Oh, the implications here. 

I feel it's important to point out that this post isn't about her, or that relationship. I can tell you that the relationship no longer exists (for many reasons, and not by my choice) and the chances of her ever reading this are extremely minimal. If she does, maybe it will get her to talk to me so we can finally reconcile. We'll just leave that one in God's hands for now.

Otis was all over this one, and he uses it to torture me to this day. Now, since you're probably thinking it already, I fully recognize the lies buried in this statement. Here they are in case it isn't obvious.

My mental health is going to make it impossible for God to use me in Rochester.

This person knows me better than most. If she thinks I can't, then it must be true.

I have nothing to give.

I'm too broken to be an asset to anyone or anything.

I'm useless.

I'm worthless. 

She's right.....

See, this is how OCD works. It takes that one thought, that one statement, and starts a big, heavy, momentum building ball rolling down a steep slope. 

Is God really inviting us to do this?

What if we aren't actually following Him?

What if we're doing this for the wrong reasons?

What if we regret it?

What do my other friends think?

Am I going to lose the people I love because I'm following God's will?

Does she think I'm worthless?

This could be the biggest mistake of my life...

Then, the feelings come flooding in as the thoughts rush out of control.

Anger

Doubt

Anxiety

Fear

Bitterness...

The catch here, if you are a Believer, is that none of these things are from the Lord. I know that. I tell Otis that. I open my Bible. I read Truth. I meditate on Truth. I isolate the lie, cover it with the Truth, and move forward. 

Unfortunately, for the OCD mind, it isn't enough. It might momentarily duct tape Otis' mouth shut, but it doesn't mute him permanently. For such a long time I actually thought that this was because...

I don't have enough faith.

I don't read my Bible enough.

Maybe I'm not really saved.

Maybe God's Word isn't true. 

Maybe God is displeased with me and is punishing me...

(Now that is the religious OCD talking. A subject for another day.) I know with 100% certainty that I am going to heaven. I have accepted Christ, his death, his resurrection, his forgiveness and the gift of his love with my whole heart. But for the OCD mind, it still doesn't quiet the voice. 

I have since learned that there are legitimate physiological and chemical mechanisms in my brain that make me different, and prevent these simple truths from being enough. I still practice taking my thoughts captive and making them obedient to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). I still read, meditate, and memorize scripture, and call on those verses in times of distress. But the compulsions still come. The main compulsion I experience is rumination. This is where the thoughts, the tape of lies, just keeps rolling, and my anxious mind responds by trying to make sense of it nonstop and rehearsing conversations. Other times the compulsions are more obvious. I've scratched, picked and rubbed my skin until it bleeds. I have pulled out chunks of my hair. I have counted, traced shapes in the air, typed the things I want to say on my "air keyboard".  All these things, even while covering them with scripture, then reset the tape and start the cycle all over again. 

Relationship OCD compulsions also take the form of seeking reassurance. I wanted so desperately to be reassured that these things weren't true. I sought that reassurance from the very person that hurt me. As the relationship continued to dwindle, I continued to chase after it. I desperately pleaded for forgiveness and reconciliation. I would call other loved ones looking for some sort of reassurance that God was pleased with me, that we were making the right choice, and that I wasn't actually as useless as Otis said I would be on this church plant. It consumed me every waking moment. Some days it still does. 

We all struggle with these sorts of things from time to time. OCD is different...it consumes your whole life. I would, and still occasionally do, find myself sitting on the side of my bed so lost in my thought battle that 20 minutes may have passed without me noticing. The anxiety and the compulsions are debilitating. They interrupt my life and keep me from functioning. 

The good news is, my experience since arriving in Rochester is proof that it was all a lie. Yes, I've hit my lowest low since being here. Yes, I have had mental health struggles. But you know what?

I've poured out every ounce of myself because I love Jesus. 

Even in the midst of those lowest lows, I've chased hard after God and I have given everything I have and everything I am for His purpose. To disciple my children, to serve my husband, to spread the Gospel, and to build the church. Most days it doesn't look the way I want it to. Most days I feel like I'm not doing enough. But it's not about the doing, right? It's about the being. God knows my heart. As long as I continue to be with Him, to search for Him, to spend time with Him, and to respond to the time we spend together, he will bless the work of my hands. 

"Commit your actions to the Lord, and your plans will succeed." Proverbs 16:3

HIS plans will succeed. His plans, for whatever reason, include Otis. 

So sit down, Otis, and brace yourself. We are just getting started.