On the hidden story

I grew up in churches that didn’t spend much, if any, time on the sovereignty of God. As a matter of fact, I was in my 30s before I ever really was introduced to the concept. I had no idea and considered my life through the lens of someone working for God’s favor and constantly failing.

In so doing, every time something hard would happen, I’d immediately respond with a “I don’t know what I keep doing to make God so mad at me!” Because of my religious upbringing, I wasn’t aware that not every little thing that happens in life is a direct result of ME and the scoring system I thought was in place.

I didn’t know and so with each struggle, I added in the burden of a hindrance and thereby stunted my own growth. Without even trying! But then, our church did a 10 month sermon series based on the book The Story: The Bible as One Continuing Story of God and His People. For the first time in my life, I was shown the little stories in the overarching theme of each book of the Bible. And for the first time in my life, I realized that there is a plan for everything, even the hard. If they had done that series five years ago, I wouldn’t have gotten it. But they did it when I was ready to learn. I knew something wasn’t right in my life and I wanted to fix it. I wanted to do something, but what I needed to do was learn.

Sometimes, there isn’t so much a need for action as there is for humility.

I asked a lot of questions. I sent our pastor dozens of questioning emails. I made a lot of tearful phone calls while I tried to understand scripture. I send texts very late at night when I reached a stopping point in my understanding. But I learned and I grew. And used up an embarrassing amount of tissues.

It’s been over a year now since I started digging out truth for myself. In that year, I’ve learned to stop saying that God is mad at me for every little thing. And you know what? We’ve had a lot of things happen in the last year. Hard things. Scary things.

As my focus switched from being overwhelmed by the hard to anticipating the plan there came freedom. It’s freeing to realize that I don’t have to strive for perfection in an attempt to live. It’s freeing to realize that when things happen, I am not alone, left to my own devices to cope with life. Even recently, some things have happened that were absurd. It is what it is. I cannot change them, but I can wait to see how the Lord plans to use them. And I am waiting with excitement.

For me, understanding the sovereignty of God went beyond my personal needs. It superseded the typical Bibles verses about worry or sparrows. Understanding that He is actually in control… that the events of my life don’t throw Him for a loop… life changing. You might be reading this and wondering what on Earth my problem was. I cannot answer that… I really don’t know. But I feel like Psalm 116:5-9 was written for me. I was/am simple. I am human and I need the Lord to protect me from myself day in and day out. And like any loving parent, He so graciously does.

Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; our God is merciful. The Lord preserves the simple; when I was brought low, He saved me. Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. For You have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling; I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living.

 

On waiting… and waiting

Every morning and then several times after throughout the day for the last few weeks, I’ve been checking our weeping cherry tree for blossoms. I know it’s coming because of the season. I know the date is upon me because the first time it bloomed was while I was away at my sweet infant cousin’s funeral. And as the anniversary of that approaches, I feel more and more anxious to see the floral joy I just know is waiting inside those tight little buds.

My tree is quite young, only 3 years ago did we plant it in the midst of my {equally young} hydrangeas. As of this morning, I can see the flutter of white around the edges of the buds and I know it’s coming. Yet, it is so difficult to wait!

What are you waiting for? Is it an answer to a long-sought prayer? Is it a night of rest from a child who just. cannot. sleep? Is it for peace in your life when all seems lost?

Over the weekend I realized that I had finally gotten an answer to a prayer almost 20 years old. And yes, I most certainly am shocked that 20 years have passed. Along the way, I’ve tried to step out on my own and tackle this. I’ve felt that since it was my dream, it was my job to get the ball rolling. No matter what I tried to do, it always fell flat. Always. I set the dream aside {eventually} and moved on.

At the time, I was in such a hurry to grow, to take off on my own and “honor God”, that I didn’t/couldn’t see all the immaturity and false thinking standing right in front of me. Had I continued forging my own way, it would have been about as successful as my tree blossoming in the middle of February here… or at least trying to, as ice would have cut that journey short. And as a matter of course, in my own life a proverbial frost occurred. Circumstances wore me down and I hardened. I chose to cut myself off, to seal out relationships and absolutely the Lord.

But then, one Sunday, sitting alone in the back of the church our pastor offered an analogy about a tree that has been bitten by a harsh frost:

“Sometimes the harsh frost of life freezes our heart, but in God’s timing the energy of Christ bursts forth into a new harvest of spiritual growth and energy.”

I remember sitting there and the tears just running down my cheeks. I knew I’d been frozen. And in that moment, I also knew that the sunshine of healing was coming. It’s been almost two and a half years since that day and I still can remember the intensity of emotion as he spoke those words. It was in that moment that I first realized God has His own time table, one that often does not match up to what I calculate should happen, but His design is for the greatest good.

In that very same sermon, Exodus 3:7 was read and in my notes, I underlined the word concerned. The word concerned connotes a “marked interest that arises due to a personal relationship”. The book of Exodus frequently speaks of the Israelites’ sacrifices…. the sacrifices that were ultimately replaced by the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross. His sacrifice was of a personal nature. He knew me and my dreams and my fears and then and now. He made the decision to save me and to become my sin, so his interest is very personal.

His interest is personal enough that although you may feel alone, you are not. When it feels like you are shouting prayers into a vacuum, you are not. He is waiting until the proper time for your answer. And when the time is right, the answer is spectacular. It doesn’t mean the waiting is easy, or that you’ll have an abundance of patience. But I can now say with full confidence that waiting is worth it.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t still be checking my tree… frequently ;)

 

 

On grace in the storm

Facebook has so kindly reminded me for the last week that my daughter’s birthday was coming. And because I am a super emotional person come birthdays, I’ve not really allowed myself to look at all the tiny baby photos or really soak in those memories. Sylvia is my last baby, and at times, the finality of each stage hurts my heart too much for me to celebrate. I’m working on it, but sometimes celebration is not as simple as a pretty pink party.

Which leads me to remember her birth. She was already an agonizing 8 days overdue. Her pregnancy was a challenge on it’s own, and her apparent unwillingness to join us earthside felt like a cruel joke. I didn’t understand why it was taking so long! But then, the contractions started. I’d already had enough labor by this point that you’d think I would have ignored that first one, but when it happened, I knew.

The next four hours were hard. Pregnancy had been hard. Another experience with hyperemesis was hard. But this? I couldn’t even wrap my mind around the hardness. And I was so worn out from how hard the months leading up had been, I really didn’t have it in me to go for hours. And then suddenly, the pain ceased.

In the moment, I remember thinking it was strange. I remember wondering if I had just suffered the previous hours and now labor was over and I’d have to do it all again at a later date. I also remember the peace. I remember knowing this was my grace. I was worn and tired and not really ready {despite the waiting} for labor. And I needed the time to recharge before the final struggle.

So for an hour, I celebrated that grace. I ate some snacks, listened to the birds outside my window and rested.

How often can we truly rest in the midst of struggles in our life? When the rest is provided, do we still look out with one eye, suspicious of what could possibly go wrong? Or can we celebrate the gift given in the middle of the hard and just rest?

That day, I could. In the years following, I haven’t been so great about it. However, in our past year, I’ve learned more and more what is it like to take those moments as the gifts they are and to be suspicious, confident, that the Lord is up to something good. That these moments are a blessing, not a trap. Perhaps things that are even harder will arise, but if I take the rest I was given, my soul will have the opportunity to be strengthened.

On that morning, four years ago, when the rest was over, I was ready to tough it out and finish giving birth. And that sweet little face that I was amazed by has continued to amaze in her tenderness, kindness and genuine love for the people around her. Over and over, I’ve been blown away by how the Lord has used her to teach me a lesson about His Love or show me the ick in my heart I’ve been making excuses for.

Right now, our family has come out of a season of hard and are entering a season of rest. This time, I can recognize it for the gift that it is and use it to it’s full potential. Instead of relaxing and thinking I’m safe to do what I please, I am continuing my discipline of trust and obedience. Not being wary, so much as wise. Another storm will come, but when it does, I know that we will see the other side, whatever that may look like, but He Is Faithful!

On needing a new prescription

A few days ago, we got up and raced around trying to make sure am medicines were taken, breakfasts were eaten, children were clothed appropriately and we were on time to the dentist. The only thing I suppose I should pat myself on the back for would be the 3 minutes to spare arrival at the dentist. So nope, forgot two medicines, the breakfast that was eaten wasn’t *that* filling and we left the house totally under dressed for the weather. Whoops.

Despite  mornings like this being a regular occurrence in my home, you might notice that my Instagram feed isn’t filled with frustrated selfies or snap shots of my messy home. Not because I want to hide this aspect of my life, but because it just isn’t worth focusing my sights on.

I suppose I could #firstworldproblems as I whine about how it was too nice a day to stay in and clean bathrooms, but is that really the point? We all have our own standards for life, standards that can at times be excessive without the input from the lady on IG who just can’t get her act together to dust. It’s not that I don’t care, because I do. I like a clean house as much, if not more, as the next person, I really do. But what I don’t care for is the focus.

It doesn’t have to be a clean house, it could be your marriage or your child in the super-fantastic developmental stage of egocentricisim. Whatever it is that takes your joy, your focus from the blessings in life, that is something that shouldn’t be framed on IG, much less your mind.

This isn’t to say that you can’t acknowledge a bad day, a messy house, or the tough parenting day! They are there in abundance, believe me. But should you focus on them? Why would you want to? Why give more time and attention to something that drags you down and hurts your spirit? Are we not called on in Colossians 3:2 to fix our eyes on things above, not on earthly things {paraphrase mine}? And to follow that, Phillipians 4:8 -

“whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

Do you see it? It’s not a call to ignore the yuck, it’s a prescription for new lenses. My morning was a disaster, my house is a mess, my hair… oh, my hair. When we bring these things to the forefront of our minds, we wait {whether we realize it or not} for someone to tear us down. We wait to see if the perfect mom from MOPS who cloth diapered all her babies and makes the best bread from scratch will notice. We wait to see if she will like our post and then we torture ourselves wondering if she liked it out of judgement or pity.

But when you swap out that negative, condemning, egocentric lens on your life for something that focuses on the blessings and the love and the glory of the Lord, dust pales in comparison. It takes time to adjust to a new lens prescription… you have headaches and all too often want to just toss them in the trash {at least I did while adjusting to my current one!}, and during that time, you’ll be forced to recognize that changing how you look at life, is work.

It is work. Change is hard. It takes a willingness to grow and to hurt a little on the way, which is why we so often set out with the intention, but quit before we are truly at the finish line. I speak from experience… please believe me! As hard as it is, I will say this: when you stop trying to change your focus solely through discipline, and you rely on scripture to rewrite your mindset, the change happens without even realizing it did. It’s worth it to focus a portion of your quiet time to write out your blessings. It’s worth it to make a list of all that you are grateful for. The more you saturate your brain with the good, the lovely, the pure, the less you’ll see the condemnation, even for those dirty dishes.

{When I went to Ann’s site to link up to her book 1,000 gifts, I happened across this lovely post. You should head over there next and read it!}

On not trying so much

The thing of growing up with a chronically ill parent is that is dramatically shifts your perspective on life. Expectations for myself, my energy, my accomplishments as a stay-at-home-mother, even my own health have been formed because of this life experience. In some ways, they’ve been good, but in others, I’ve required a fundamental shift in the paradigm of my thoughts.

Over the years, I’ve tried and tried to do this on my own. I’ve read books, been to counselors and begged the Lord to help me. To take away the pressures and anxiety I’d created to be the lenses I viewed my world through. I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time trying.

A year ago, I got my own diagnosis, one which required me to take it down a notch. To stop pushing myself to the standards I’d created. To stop trying and accept that there are limits in life. And no matter of gumption will change this fact.

In the last few months, I’ve been exploring the concept of rest. Not in the prop-up-your-feet-and-exhale sense, but in the utter stillness of the Lord’s care. As I spent my time just being quiet, not striving to change things or beg the Lord to fix things, but choosing those moments of stress to remind myself that I am where I need to be. The lessons I am learning now are hard, but I wasn’t ready for them years ago. Sure. It would be nice, if I didn’t have to learn these things now, but would I have fully appreciated them years ago?

At this moment, I’m recovering from a nasty bug. For the most part, I feel better, but the sneaky kind of better that makes you think you’ve returned to the front of the pack only to slap you down with bone-crushing fatigue after that first load of laundry. We need clean underwear. The toilet needs scrubbed. The dishes need washed. But it doesn’t have to all be done at the same time.

Maybe not for you, but for me, realizing that there is value in rest, has brought so much freedom. I do not know what will happen next in my life, but frantically scrubbing toilets will not bring an iota of control. And that’s ok. I like clean toilets, but I’d rather scrub them because I like the end result instead of using it as a futile exercise in control.

 

Ironic, isn’t it? The harder I work, the less progress is made in my heart. There is such a sweetness in surrendering to the Lord’s Hand over your life. The realization of sovereignty has been the greatest gift I could have been given in this season of life. It’s beautiful and captivating and touching to think that He has already laid out my life… it is up to me to live it with joy. And peace. And contentment.

And clean toilets.

Being Still

I finished reading Beth Moore’s book Believing God {aff link} this week. It took me a while, as I had a lot of digesting to do. Her writing style is very gentle and yet to the point. I like it… which makes me laugh because I honestly had no idea who she was until a few months ago. Toward the end of the book, there were a few things I wanted to remember, so I spent some time Tuesday afternoon copying them to my journal and thinking about our current season in life.

Beth was describing types of challenges in life and our responses. Not all require us to wage an internal war, but instead ask us to be quiet and wait on the Lord. I was struck… shaken… to my core.

Keep up your day in, day out fundamentals, be still in ME, and trust that I am in control – total control. I don’t want your involvement on this issue. I just want you to practice keep your hands off of it and letting me have it.”

I read this paragraph over and over before writing “This is where I am right now. With everything that has cropped up – just practicing being still and trusting.” Matt and I have talked about this several times in the last year, we have done all we can in our struggles, only to have that inner voice telling us to simply be quiet and wait. For me, a type-A action-oriented person, this is hard. Not hard. Virtually impossible.

As my day progressed, I felt more and more that I was to embrace this… that I read this for a purpose. At 4:31pm my phone rang with the news that our rental {which is for sale and therefore vacant} was broken into and the copper piping stolen. I hung up the phone and stood in my dining room laughing.

Isn’t it the Best? Despite all our efforts and precautions, someone still broke in. And yet, I chose stillness over fear. Perhaps for the first time in my life even. This year I have determined that instead of chasing perfection, I am going to embrace growth. Growth happens at it’s own rate… no matter my goals or plans, I have to just keep pushing forward and trust that the process of growth will still occur regardless of how it feels to me. In this moment, I can see the growth.

Stillness is hard for me. But this small victory of not allowing myself to panic and instead trust that everything will work out shows me that I’m learning. I’m making progress. I’m growing in the stillness, inspite of myself. Because of Him.

 

Redirection

In the last several months, I’ve felt that I needed to take a step back and evaluate where this blog is going. Although I’ve contemplated ending this blog entirely, I love the domain name and adore the graphics my husband created for me. In a few short months, I’ll have two children who are school aged and my days as a member of MOPS will draw to a close. With that, my venue for writing devotionals for moms will also draw to a close.

It has been my heart’s desire to write devotionals for women since before I knew what it even meant. I hear other women who have similar goals say they want to be just like Beth Moore or Lysa Turkhurst. I only learned who those women are this past year. I can see the draw to that level of a goal. It would be wonderful if my words, typed with a pug at my feet and children building legos {or fighting} could ever have that impact. But at the heart of my desire I don’t have that urge. The older I get, the more I appreciate the small. I long for the quiet and the intimate. Large groups, while never my “thing” were always something I did so I could fit in. I don’t want to fit in any longer. I want to do what I was created to do, even if that involves me taking a deep breath, drawing up all my bravery and stepping away from the norm.

I met with a dear friend for coffee this morning. She is one of my closest friends in the entire world and telling her about this dream came naturally. She wisely mentioned that when God has something for you, it’s like the nagging of a toothache… ever-present and demanding attention until you finally see a dentist and take care of it. She quickly added that the analogy of a toothache isn’t there to assume following God’s will for your life is always painful, but to tell you the truth, I feel uncomforatble. I feel like I’ve been trying to continue walking around in the size 8 1/2 heels I bought pre-kids even though my feet are now a full size larger.

My life has changed a lot in the past year. My heart has changed and grown. I have finally been able to set aside all the pain and struggles and the bitterness I felt at God’s {percieved} abandonment and realize that while everything I’ve ever known has changed – radically- God has been the one constant. Always waiting for me to, in effect, get over myself and be brave enough to be humble. Now, at the age of 33, I finally get to learn lessons my heart wasn’t ready for years ago. Lessons I wish I could have been ready for, but am grateful to be where I am.

My blog has always been about food and family. But you know what I learned in 2014? Physical food had become my comfort even without an obsession. It took several months, but following that realization, I discovered that when anxious, if I chose to spend time in the Word, instead of crying into a piece of chocolate cake, I could actually rest. I want to share this with others. Mothers, singles, Grandpas… I don’t care if you are in my demographic, I want people to understand that there is a way to feed your soul that doesn’t always involve butter or cheese. And as much as I love my dairy products, I love peace even more.

In the coming weeks, there will be some design changes with this blog, so please bear with me. I am excited to move beyond myself and share what I’m learning. I am thrilled to be brave enough to shift the emphasis from our bellies to our souls. Will you join me?

4 Tips for Helping Your Child Adjust to Glasses

I started wearing glasses when I was in college. Textbooks with tiny print + the lousy lighting in the Biology department meant I spent a lot of time squinting. I wore them throughout college, got a “nice” pair of glasses when I started my first real job and then never went back to have my eyes checked again. All those years of squinting made me adapt to an impaired vision – I quit driving at night and always sat close to the front of the room. Two years ago, I went in for a routine exam and the doctor was horrified at my prescription. Horrified. I now wear glasses on a regular basis and it is amazing how clear things are! {please note the mockery in my tone… it’s directed at the condescending nurse who asked me how I didn’t walk into walls without glasses… ahem}

4 Tips for Helping a Child Adjust to Glasses

We figured our kiddos would have to wear glasses at some point in life since both of their parents do, but I didn’t realize how difficult it was for Liam to see until one day this summer a friend watched him trip and fall and promptly told me to take him in. Sure enough the next day, the eye doctor sweetly explained that because of a significant difference between his eye prescriptions, Liam’s depth perception was off adding to his already challenged eyesight.

A week later, the cutest little pair of black framed glasses were on his face and he noticed just how BIG the world is! {Also, he stopped falling 20+ times a day.} Since I hadn’t had my glasses all that long, I remembered how uncomfortable it was to adjust to them. Their constant presence on my nose, the headache for the first week while my adjusted to seeing things normally and gosh darn it, the desire to toss them in the trash and continue to spend my days squinting.

The first day Liam wore glasses, I counted 17 times I had to remind him to put them back on. The next day it doubled. Adjusting to glasses is hard. Add in the desire to rough house or play in the pool in the summer and you really need to take some extra steps to help your child stick it out. Our eye doctor explained that because children often don’t realize that their sight isn’t clear, their eyes adapt so that they can function, but when you introduce glasses, the eyes are forced to relearn how to see.

4 Tips for Helping a Child Adjust to Glasses

In light of our experience, I thought I’d share with you what helped us make the adjustment to glasses simpler!

  • Make sure they like their glasses – There are so. many. options. these days when you choose your frames. So many. Thankfully, on the first tray of frames, Liam spied a pair that were miniature versions of what Matt wears. He snatched them up and declared them his favorites. You wear what you like and this boy likes to look like Daddy!
  • Make sure that your child understands that they can complain about the fit – Liam didn’t say anything about how uncomfortable the glasses were on his ears until we were almost 3 weeks into wearing them. It was a simple fix, taking them back into the office and having them stretched a tiny bit and once it was done, no more pinching! But before that appointment, I reminded him that he’d been uncomfortable for 3 weeks… far longer than necessary. If it’s not comfortable, tell me so I can fix it. If I don’t know, I can’t help!
  • Establish safety guidelines – Liam’s lenses aren’t supposed to ever break. But even still, if he wants to wrestle, play in the pool, wear his super hero costumes or do anything rough, he has to take them off. Additionally, when they come off, they are to be placed somewhere safe {I prefer his bookcase}. I didn’t express how serious I was about that rule and that is how the glasses were left on a bed that they were jumping on and got crushed… at just one month of having them.
  • Reward the little victories – because I knew that he was going to have headaches and feel like his eyes weren’t “right” while they were adjusting, I wanted to make sure there was an incentive to continue wearing the glasses. For the first few days, I gave him an awesome rock at lunch, snack, supper and bedtime if he’d been good about keeping the glasses on. By the end of the first week, he was getting four rocks a day so I knew it was safe to switch over to only getting one rock a day. I did that for another week and by then only had to remind him to put them back on after he’d taken them off for rough play. These days, if I see that he’s being responsible or I don’t have to remind him even in the morning to put them on, he gets an awesome rock just because I love him!

Now that we are adjusted and the safety guidelines have been established, glasses are a piece of cake. Although, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by giant smudges or finger prints on the lenses, he is doing a great job taking care of them. Even Sylvi is aware and will remind him to take them off if she thinks their play might get “crazy”.

When we had Sylvi’s eyes examined, the doctor told us that she’ll be in need {more than likely} in a few years of her own pair of glasses. I’m glad that she has such a great example to follow. And I feel more prepared to help her adjust when {if} her time comes!

**Of course, today, Liam took his glasses off before gym class and left them with his teacher. We almost left without them. Adjustment has been smooth, but he’s still a 5 year old!**

Mighty Mommy Monday – Yard Work Edition

It’s Mighty Mommy Monday! Abbie of Farmer’s Daughter and I have decided to challenge you on a weekly basis.  Claim the Mighty Mommy title for yourself — every day, not just Mondays. Every week, we’ll host a link up for you to tell us what you’re doing to take care of your health: workouts, menu plans, how to keep your family active, etc. I’ve set a few goals for 2014, but my biggest is to swim a total of 30 freestyle miles this year! Join us!

 

We have lived in this house for 4 Falls now. This is the first one I’ve really had to do much with the yard. I didn’t do much the first year because I was pregnant and had activity restrictions. Every year since the wind had been our friend and blown the leaves away before I even thought about tackling them. Such was not my luck this year. Oh no.

For two weeks I’ve been battling the yard not only at our home, but also at our rental. HOURS of raking has been involved. And leaf blowing when I got too sore. I never realized how many muscles raking employs! Since I’m not really doing aerobics, I was surprised to discover soreness even in my calves and hips as though I’d been to a Zumba class!

Did you know that raking your lawn can burn up to 300 calories an hour {depending on your weight}? Bagging them also counts as a workout at 280 calories an hour. Suddenly I feel like a fool complaining about all that work! {I still have the blisters to whine about though.}

So as I raked, cleaned, hauled furniture, hiked around a Christmas tree farm today, I certainly earned my exercise! Sitting down to eat supper, my legs and arms ache… but fun fact, my arms are a little more toned now :) As winter approaches, and along with it the Ohio snow, I know I’ll still be getting in a little exercise outside. For a person who weighs 155 pounds, an hour of snow shoveling will burn about 422 calories – the same as if you’d gone hiking for an hour!

Outside exercise isn’t all work though… once the shoveling is done, I’ll be sledding and building snowmen! Although I know people are dreading the return of the cold weather, I’m looking forward to fresh ways to challenge my muscles and stay active!

Embracing my Introvert

I chatted on the phone with a friend this morning. I’ve know this friend for 10 years (whoa! 10 years went fast!), we’ve been pregnant at the same time twice and had our first borns within weeks of each other. We know each other very well and tend to be very honest with each other… even the ugly honest.

As I was relating what I had done with my time since we had last seen each other, she stopped me to tell me that she was surprised at how much socializing I had done. She then quickly followed it up with a comment that for her, that would be a dream to have that much social time, but she knew it wore me out. And I am really am. I had a crazy busy weekend: lots of talking and spending time with people. This week wasn’t initially better for me, but I actually breathed a sigh of relief when the fevers showed up and I knew I would  have to clear our week.

Growing up, I can remember looking at my parents’ calendar and wondering when the day would come where I would be able to stay home for the evening. Because I was homeschooled, I was able to keep to a relatively peaceful daytime schedule, but all those after school activities sure add up… they look great on a college application, but when you are a type who needs quiet to recharge, you wonder if it’s even worth it.

All my life, I have come up with excuses to not attend an event. When Matt and I got married, I tried my hand at hosting events at our home… I thought if I ran the helm, I’d like parties more.  Because I am an organized person, things always went well… but oh my gosh, I couldn’t stand to even talk to someone for three days after all the chaos left my house. Happy chaos, good chaos, funny chaos; it still drains me.

I happened upon the book - Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking and actually devoured it. It was so freeing to read through why I need quiet. WHY I need a break from social events and crave the quiet. If you’re in the same boat, I strongly recommend it! Our society celebrates the loud and busy and if you don’t celebrate it too, well… people think you’re odd. I’ve been watching Gilmore Girls on Netflix while I sew and I’m really appreciating how they wrote the character of Rory. I understand why she plans a whole weekend of aloneness. I plan whole weekends of aloneness. It’s awesome.

The best part was that I actually live in a house full of introverted homebodies. And it’s amazing. I don’t know what I’d do if my children were the types who wanted to go and do every single day. Instead I get the chance to nurture our little family… to help my children learn their own limits and then respect them. Instead of pressuring them to participate beyond their comfort in the socially acceptable busy that is everywhere, I get to show them how to have a life that while quiet, is fulfilling and successful!