Follow Your Dreams?
Peter was a fisherman. I don’t know much about fishing, because I refuse to touch a slimy, wiggling, gasping for air fish. From my limited understanding, it seems that his job was to catch the fish, sell the fish, and then catch more fish to sell, plus do all the mending and upkeep of nets and boats to continue fishing. Thanks to Google, I also know that fishermen tended to fish at night. So when Jesus meets Peter for the first time (Luke 5: 1-11), he’s found sitting on the shore mending his nets and probably trying to wrap things up before going home for some much needed rest. I…
When the time comes…
They don’t know me here. They know my husband, and perhaps know of us, maybe our reputation proceeds us— for good or bad, who knows. When I arrive, I am just a name. A handshake introduction, an awkward conversation; where are you from, what do you do? Simple questions that I can’t answer simply. There are simple facts to learn, Lauren, age thirty—*cough*, stay at home mom of four. They see the put together(ish) appearance that I aim for and that I am a special needs parent. Given time they will learn what that entails. We will eventually talk about my daughter, I’ll teach them the word hydranencephaly and try…
Exercise a little grace
Five years ago I took my first Crossfit class. My feet were quaking in my athletic shoes and I was painfully insecure. Trying something new always makes me nervous, and my jiggly postpartum body couldn’t do a single pushup. I was sure that I would die and leave my child motherless. Three years ago I was in the best shape of my life, strong, energetic, and healthy, feeling better about my body after two babies than I had before having any. I was running a mile in under 8 minutes, I could easily carry both of my sons at the same time. For the first time in my life I…
In Sickness & In Help
I’ve reached two weeks of being stuck at home with kids who are simultaneously too sick to be in public but too well to be cooped up— especially when the Motrtin takes effect. I get the privilege of holding my oldest as he cries thanks to a nice broom whack to the forehead. I should applaud my sons’ creativity. The lone dirty diaper that hadn’t found the trash can was turned into a ball and the broom was functioning as a bat. It only took one swing for my sons to realize it was a bad idea. Should have choked up on the bat. Or, you know, not attempted to…
- Adoption, Depression, Faith, Family, Grief, Hope, Hydranencephaly, Life, Pressure, Special Needs, Special Needs Parenting, Unexpected
What Happened in the Fire?
I don’t know why it’s so easy to flippantly read about God’s miracles. Why don’t I get excited and jazzed every time I read about how he healed a blind man with spit or commanded the wind and waves to be still. Maybe it’s the unintentional byproduct of growing up in church that somehow these stories become “normal” to me. There’s nothing normal about the miraculous. You might be familiar with the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. It’s found in the third chapter of Daniel in the Bible. It’s one many children hear growing up, which is interesting because it’s just one chapter. Their names are mentioned in the…
His and Hers
When you’ve got a large family, you spend an absurd amount of time cleaning things. (I may have mentioned that before.) Laundry and dishes pile up the moment you turn your back, and clutter happens in the blink of an eye. I put so much work into the house at large, that my bedroom is the one to suffer. My clean clothes languish in the laundry basket, my dirty laundry piles higher and higher until my 5 year old comments on it, and my bathroom… sigh… my bathroom. I wouldn’t say that there are chores that I actually like, but if I had to rank them, cleaning the bathroom would…
Of Mice and Men
I was in the 10th grade when I read Of Mice and Men. I had gotten behind on the reading track, but as English was (and is) my favorite subject, I determined to finish it before class. I picked up my softly worn copy, curved the cover around the spine to fit nicely in my hand, and I slunk down into my chair at the back of my Algebra 2 classroom. Out of the line of site of my tiny red-headed teacher, I read on uninterrupted. I flipped through the pages, reading faster as I neared the end the end of the book and the class period. I remember the…
It’s the Little Things
Confession Time: I’m horrible at budgeting. Like really bad. It’s easy to sit down and figure out the big things like rent payment, utilities, car payment, phone bill, etc., but I struggle to properly allot for the little things. A t-shirt here, a stop by Starbucks (or two or three…), a trip to McDonalds on the way home from church, diaper genie refills; these are the things that get me. Fortunately, my husband is far better at financial budgeting than I am, so this is an area where I defer to him. However, I realized that this problem manifests itself in all parts of my life. Time budgeting… I am…
Tis the Season for Reminiscing
The chicken thighs were boiling in my large stock pot on the stove, the air filled with the warm fragrance of chicken stock, and I was peeling and cubing potatoes. The next step would be getting the biscuits cut up for dumplings. This is one of my favorite meals to cook because it has 3 ingredients and is almost mindless in its preparation. Added to the fact that I always make it in obscenely large quantities, it’s one of my go to recipes to share with families in need of a meal, which is why I was making it again this week. Listening to the thwack of my knife against…
Finding Joy
There is a hush over my house. I hear the whirring of our white noise machine and my soft typing on this keyboard. Occasionally I hear my own sniffles, the jangle of a dog collar, and the chirp of a smoke alarm signaling it’s need for new batteries. This is a rare occurrence in our household, me managing to get up before anyone else, sitting in a quiet house. My husband is sleeping in, meaning he didn’t have to get up at 4:30, my sons have stayed in their own bed all night long, the baby has been fed and cuddled back to sleep, and Wonder Woman’s feeding pump hasn’t…
