10.23.14

dear c and n--

sometimes i can't even find the words for all the things i want to tell you. all the things i want to help you understand, navigate, believe, and embrace. but today i have them, today i have words about grace.

because these last few days have been full for us.
they have been busy with unexpected things.
they have been messy with hard lessons.
they have been exhausting and discouraging and have left me feeling lacking as your mother immensely.

but i hope that you can look back on the busy and the hard and the difficult, and see that you are loved. i hope that you can see my many faults and weaknesses less than the fact of how strongly i love you, as i learn to navigate these waters of mothering, day after day.

i hope you remember these days with grace.

_____

these past few days have been peppered with times when both of you have noticed moments where grace abounds, been affected by it in such sweet ways, and have extended it to me despite my countless imprefections.

and it has shown me yet again the power of the gospel.
the beauty of the gospel.
my need for the gospel.

and it has struck me to my core. and so, as i relearn how to cling to grace and give grace in these muddled days of emotion and training and loving and guiding, i hope that you remember the love and the kindness in the midst of the mistakes and the weakness.

i know you will remember the coffee, but i hope you remember the grace.

love,
mama.

scenes from the (memorial day) weekend.

our weekend was filled with a nasty virus, missed events, a semi-traumatic haircut, and an overtime-working husband. but even still, we managed to have some pretty great times together. times that were pleasant and rich and just so, so good.

seriously, living life with these nuggets keeps getting better.

love.

on overcoming the lie (of perfection).

there's a lie that i've let myself believe for a long time. 
a lie that has left me feeling guilty, condemned, and defeated so many times. 

it's something that God has been slowly opening my eyes to, and it's more than partly the reason for my post about my new year's goals, and striving to be free.

because the lie of perfection is deadly. 

this thing we tell ourselves as women, that everyone else has it together, except for us. and that if we can somehow attain it, we will find joy.

for me, this notion of perfection coexists with comparison. oh, how quickly i compare myself to other women, both online and offline. sometimes consciously, sometimes not.

how they look. 

how they dress.

how put together they are, how organized their life is.

how many kids they have successfully birthed and raised.

how they care for their home, how they cook.

how well they bless and serve others.

how much better than me they are, at just about everything.
and how i am not.

and before i know it, i find myself in this place of coveting and discontent. wishing i were better, wishing i were more.

and it's exhausting. 

when we look to others as our standard, we turn their giftings into idols and their strengths into our own gods that are always just out of reach. it's wonderful, and i think important, to admire our sisters for their strengths and evidences of grace in their lives and be inspired to grow in similar ways, but we need to be careful not to put too much emphasis on the doing, lest we stifle God's work in our hearts and lives. 

and really, these women I compare myself to aren't perfect either. they are human. but even still, the truth that we need to embrace isn't that they don't have it all together either, but that the solution is found when we look to God for our definition of perfection and our solution for our imperfection.

because to God, being the perfect woman isn't as important as being a faithful one.

the good news is, he is perfect for us, and we are made perfect in him. because no matter how hard we try, we will never be perfect, this side of heaven. and how much freedom should come in believing that our savior knows our imperfections and loves us anyway. because he has ransomed us.

i want to live my life embracing where i am, so that i can move forward.

i want to remember that while all different, we all have our strengths and our struggles. 

i want to cling to grace, and be free to strive for the perfection that matters.

and let's be women that live this truth out daily. fully and wholeheartedly clinging to the cross, covered by his grace, and freed from the lies we so quickly let ourselves believe. free from the lies that will never bring us joy.

and lady, you are beautiful. 

you are fearfully and wonderfully made. 
and imperfect you is precious to him.

and he wants to make us whole. 

and he loves to make broken things beautiful.

by his grace, and for his glory.

love.

___

i'm taking part in Overcome the Lie's annual blog tour. it's such an honor to be a part of this series, to encourage women to rise up and overcome the lies so many of us fall victim to in our lives. be sure to check them out, because their heart for women is contagious. 

f i v e.

five years ago today, i said yes to this man.

yes to sickness, health, poverty, wealth, and life in all it's forms.

we have faced more in these past five years than i ever imagined we could. we've spent weeks upon weeks in hospitals, and we've left those rooms behind. we've lost a child, and we've welcomed two. we've had seasons of barely making ends meet, as well as new seasons of a bit more means.

and through it, we endured. and we have loved.

he has loved me so well.

so often i find myself looking at him, wonder what made him see what he does in me. what it was that caught his attention, to love me like he does. because i don't deserve him. he sees the best in me, and encourages me to be all that i want to be. even when it would be easier to not, he pursues my good above his own.

and oh, he makes me laugh.

most days, i can't remember what life was like without him. but i do know that is was harder and lonelier and less. so much less.

because this man of mine, he is wise. he is logical, consistent and so steady. he has the ability to calm me like no one else.
he is kind.
loving.
gentle.
he is so many things that i am not, but want to be.

in short, this man is my hero. he is my joy and my partner.

he is far more than simply my best friend. he is everything i could have hoped for, and more.

happy anniversary, baby. here's to so many more years.

and no matter what they're filled with, i am blessed to share them with you.

love.

oh hey, 2014.

here we are, nestling into the new year, and i'm already behind.

i had plans of writing down my goals, dreams and hopes. i wanted to recount lessons learned and all the blessings and hardships the last year held for us. but none of that is finished, and really, it's barely started. but i'm throwing out the guilt of not being where i want to be, and embracing something new.

you see, my mind has been full these last few weeks, as the holidays kept us busy and the year came to a tiring close. i've struggled to wade through the thoughts and emotions swirling around me, i've found myself overwhelmed.

overwhelmed at the kindness of God seen so evidently in our lives this year.
in the blessing of our baby girl, who makes our hearts swell.
the blessing of a new job for nick, that starts on monday, and has answered so many of our long-suffering prayers and petitions.
the blessing of our marriage and that tomorrow marks five years with the man that loves me so well.
the blessing of so much grace in this year spent healing and recovering from years of trial, sickness and brokenness.
the blessing in finding myself again.

and this is when i realized that i want this year to be different. that i want to change how i see things, and how i see myself. because there is so much more for me to do. so much for me to take from the past few years and put it to use and live fuller and breathe deeper and grow better.

instead of resolutions or goals or lists (though some of those will still be part of life, for sanity's sake), i'm choosing a word that i want to be the theme of this new year.
an anthem of sorts.
that i want my life to show and my soul to breathe and my heart to embrace.

this year, i'm striving to be free.

free from the guilt that weighs on me when i don't do the things when or how i want.
free from self-pity and discontent when i feel i don't "measure up" to others.
free from comparing and condemning and from the lie that my merit is based in my perfection.

instead, i want to be free in who christ ransomed me to be. in the woman that God made me. freely found in the fact that i will never be perfect. free to love, and be loved. and, because of grace and my glorious savior, that's okay.

so here's to 2014. may it be blessed and full of freeness found in that beautiful grace.

love.

on waiting for words.

the past few weeks, i've been struggling for words.

and when i hit a dry season, when the words stop pouring and turn into barely a trickle,
my soul begins to feel as if it's shriveling. as if it can't eek out much of anything worth anything.

words are how i breathe, sometimes. 

but all of this wishing hard for words has had me thinking of my motivations, my desires, and from where i draw my inspiration. and i'm beginning to notice that when i try to write from my own strength, when i try to force them out, the words don't come. they stay just beyond reach, resolute.

my heart tightens when i sit to write and nothing comes. 

because i thrive when the words come. i feel alive--it's like feeling the wind on my face and the salt air whip around my body. like standing in the rain on a chilly spring day, letting each drop hit like a clean, new start. and it's not just when i'm actually writing, it's all the time in the day surrounding it.

i need words.
but even more, i need grace.

this life of mine has taught me over and again where i need to run to find my inspiration. where i need to sit and listen, and the grace to run to God for contentment. i am passionate about these words of mine, but if my motives are selfish, my well runs dry. when i seek satisfaction in seeing ink on the page or pixels on the screen, or even just in inspiring others, in connecting with like-minds, or just being read, that's when my words become self-serving, thin and dead.

instead, they flow when i am satisfied in him. when i have something worth sharing, to share.
when i am found in him, i am full of contentment.
and, words.

that's when i find my words. every time. 

love.

11.21.13

“It was November--the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul.” 

― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

there is something about the crisp air and quickly approaching holidays and the promise of twinkling lights that allows you to breathe deep, exhaling the weight of so many things. 

the past few days, i've found myself in a struggle between being overwhelmed with stress and being overcome with thankfulness.

but i want this season of thankfulness to win.
and breed a life of thankfulness in this weary heart of mine.

and with these two, i have more than enough reason to be well on my way.

love.

on seeing beauty in a broken past.

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” 

― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

there is beauty in the broken.

i don't talk about my childhood much on here (or much about my past in general). there are volumes there, and i barely know where to start. but i think it would be good for me to talk about it a little bit. to start to unpack where i started in this journey of understanding beauty.

when i was little, i was the quintessential girl. i loved all things frilly, and my skirts (my everyday apparel) had to pass a twirl test to make the outfit cut. i dreamed of being beautiful, particularly in the way that sleeping beauty was.

fast forward to the end of my childhood--i was a broken and empty, makeup-covered (and barely clothed) child that desperately sought affection through my appearance. the level of attention I received (or lack thereof) drove my view of my level of beauty and self worth.

what happened to that little girl?

i grew.

i grew up amidst a broken home.

i grew up the daughter of a model. 

i grew up the daughter of an alcoholic.

i grew up the daughter of a broken child herself, desperately wanting to find her worth in her appearance. just as she was taught to do.

as i grew, the emphasis on looking pretty was only reinforced, both in the atmosphere of home and outside of it. i craved to find acceptance and approval and love and affection so desperately, but the more i tried and the more I looked in the mirror i was left wanting.

so desperately wanting.

i hated my face and could hardly find a redeeming quality as i spent so much time scouring over every detail in the mirror.

eventually, i learned to hide what i hated underneath layers of black eyeliner, multiple smokey eyeshadows, mascara, and foundation. to hide the ugly. and to make myself look better than I felt, to make myself feel better. 

as for my body, when i looked in the mirror I saw fat. I was 5'6" and wore a size one jeans, but i was never small enough.

i watched the shows, read the magazines, and embraced the body images and facial structures that were deemed better by those around me and the larger culture.

by the end of high school, i was a desperate, dolled-up, mess.

but my story didn't end there. and in fact, it was just beginning.

to be honest, it's still hard find much beauty in those dark years. i even have a hard time finding beauty when i look in the mirror some days still. but i do know that my story was woven beautifully to shape me into the woman i am today. a woman full of hope to encourage others to see what she could not. the beauty that is real and lasting and is not paid for by an advertiser or others desperate for finding their worth in the wrong places.

there is beauty in the journey, because we are here because we were there first. and rejoicing in our story and the sovereign grace of God that brought us through will cause our souls to grow more beautiful each day we rest in his love.

your story makes you unique. 

your story makes you, you.

your story makes you beautiful.

love.

a note: if you're here because of my link on thenester.com, i apologize that it's not a typical 31-day challenge (you can read more about it in my last post). it won't be consistent, and it won't always be pretty, but i hope it will be encouraging. i do hope you'll decide to stay awhile anyway. <3 

on sleeplessness.

“What hath night to do with sleep?” 

― John Milton, Paradise Lost

if i didn't know better, i'd say that milton was in my head.

these last few weeks have been long. the days have stretched well into the nights, and the nights have lingered too long to not count for much at all. there are stolen moments of sleep, peppered among the cries of a tired baby girl, but the lack of anything substantial has been draining. naps happen in intervals, and life is just busy.

the truth? i've never been more exhausted in my entire life.

but this time has been one of such growth. of stretching beyond myself--my strength, patience, joy--and causing me to strive for change. not just change of circumstance, because despite the trying, sleeplessness still remains. but change of heart.

the nights might not be filled with the sleep i need, but they can still be filled with the grace i need.

there has been a gradual change happening, causing my nights (and days) to be filled with less anxiety, and more peace. joy even.

joy in the daily everythings. because i am deciding to remind myself of them often.

i have a list in my head. for the moments i become anxious, or angry even, that i can't have a moment to breathe when i'd like it. a list filled with good things, like the way that my children are healthy and growing and changing into precious little beings. the way the afternoon sun streams in through the living room windows as i cuddle one or the other as they take turns napping. and even the way the coffee brews and the rich smell wafts across the room throughout the day.

slowly, my nights are turning into purposeful times of sweet thankfulness as i feed my baby and calm her cries. 

i am in a place of few words these days, and instead have found myself in a place of ever-present grace, relying heavily on the daily manna gifted to me by a kind Father, who is showing me snippets of an incredibly blessed life, and sustaining me on a fraction of rest that i would have thought necessary to function.

and i'm learning that although my nights might not have much to do with sleep, they have much to do with refreshing grace.

because my strength is not really found in myself, and the more i realize that, the more i am able to walk through this hard season well. and so, i'd appreciate your prayers, friends. prayers for strength, sleep, and diligence.

diligence to make my nights count.

love.

the broken bones.

last night, long after the rest of the near world breathed a deep sigh and began their slumber, i sat in bed.
awake.
hot tears loosed down my cheeks as i struggled to make sense of what was going on in my mind.

why did i feel so alone?

in an effort to quiet my soul, i picked up my phone and read the first passage that came up on my bible app.

"let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice." - psalm 51:8

i stopped, and read it again. the bones that you have broken.

for some reason, this phrase was fresh and new to me. cutting the raw that hurt so badly.

____

i've had tendency a of late. where i see the worst of things, and not the better. and i see myself doing it. i try to will myself to think of good things. to stop using so many words. to just stop talking. instead i see myself, as if i'm looking on from another place, go on and on. trying to convey my thoughts. my feelings. my frustration. my judgement.

when did i turn into this?

if things don't go exactly how i think they should, i'm disappointed and at times, i wring my hands instead of raise them with joy. even when most is going so well, it only takes one thing. one expectation not met. and my joy escapes me.

i hate it.
____

in that desperate moment last night, God was so kind to remind me. he breaks the bones. he allows the pain, to bring about a clean heart. a heart after him. full of joy.

whether these bones are literal or metaphorical, they are still broken. whoever you are, and whatever your lot, the pain is still real. your eyes burn the same from the tears. your soul searches the same for relief. but these broken bones can rejoice.

because, there is grace. and there are new mercies for each day.

if you're new to this blog or not, you might see a bit of a redundancy in my posts. and i admit, there is. no matter what i tend to be talking about, it seems to come full-circle to this idea of grace.

and that might not be a revelation to you, hearing it so often. but for me, it is.

because every day that i see my sin, i see that grace. and it astounds me.

love.

life with two.

you guys, a week ago little miss turned one month old. one month.

norah is the sweetest little thing. she loves to be held and to cuddle, which we're thoroughly enjoying. she loves to eat--she was eleven pounds at her last checkup. yes. eleven. and she makes the most adorable noises ever.

oh, and she loves her daddy.

coen loves his little sister. she's one of the first things he asks for in the morning, and throughout the day he pats her face so gently and gives her a kiss.

it melts my heart.
____

it's been a sweet time of adjustment. a hard, sleepless one. but sweet.

honestly, life with two little ones has been hard. a lot harder than i had anticipated. recovering from having norah took longer than i expected--the first three weeks were a constant reminder of my weakness. so many times, i felt useless, lazy and discouraged.

it's been a season of more learning. learning to lean--to rely on others, and to ask for help, even when you think you shouldn't be needing any. and learning to pray even more earnestly for strength. i'm sure it will take some time before we're completely acclimated with this new life of ours. but i'm stretching, and growing. and oh, how worth it this is.

there are so many times during the day when i pause and think, is this really my life? are these sweet babies actually mine? 

and in this time, when i've so keenly felt my physical limitations in this fragile human state, i've been reminded how beautiful it is to be broken. how God so often uses hardship to bring about some of the sweetest times and most astounding miracles. and so, we can learn to embrace our weakness, and see the beauty that comes from it.

because, these two little children of mine are far beyond what i could have ever hoped for.

love.

12.21.12

The Son of God became a man to enable men to become the sons of God. 

- C.S. Lewis 

What a glorious, humbling truth this is.

love.

an explanation.

i have a good reason for being so quiet over here.

meet baby schlax. coming sometime around (& hopefully not much later than) february 16, 2013.

it's been a difficult few months. i had a pretty bad case of morning all-the-time sickness, and didn't see much besides the couch most days. and i seriously had no words, so i pretty much just pretended this blog didn't exist. sorry about that.

but yesterday, i hit twelve weeks. and for the past few days, i've been feeling pretty good. for this, i am so thankful.

well, really, i'm thankful for the sickness and what it means for the baby. it's been reassuring to have such a strong sign that things are going well. but in the midst of it, i found it extremely hard to hold fast to joy consistently. i definitely found myself feeling pretty ungrateful in the midst of such a huge blessing to us. so i spent a good bit of my time feeling discouraged. and nauseous, of course.

but now, i can see fruit. through my weakness & struggle, i find myself filled with a little more joy & contentment in my circumstances, no matter what they might be. i feel like my perspective on life is becoming a little less selfish. and with that, i'm encouraged.

once again, i'm so thankful for grace. for unending grace, despite how easily i forget how incredibly blessed i really am.

oh, we are so excited.

love.

carry your cross.

and he said to all, "if anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. for whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. for what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? for whoever is ashamed of me and my words, of him will the son of man be ashamed when he comes in his glory and the glory of the father and of the holy angels." - luke 9:23-27

 
i've had a few dear friends heavy on my heart this week as they've faced various kinds of trials. & as my own little family enters this new season (one that is much more peaceful), i've found myself struggling to adjust to such a simpler way of life.

these verses were part of the text we went through on sunday. & oh, how they encouraged me. i was freshly reminded of the truth about suffering in this life. & about grace. about how jesus suffered. & why he chose to suffer. before entering into his glory. so that we can enter into glory with him.

and so, we must suffer as well. while he suffered so that we can be accepted by god, we suffer for his glory. & for our good.

in this new season, i've been thinking about what it means to me to "take up my cross daily." living here, i don't put my life on the line for my faith every day. most of us don't suffer beatings, or stoning, or imprisonment.

yet, we still suffer.

but by god's grace, many times we are suffering on a different level. it can be as simple as denying our flesh daily. denying our natural tendency toward self-absorption. & instead, being actively focused on the glory of the gospel. & the promise of our redemption.

how does that look in my life? right now, i think it means waking early, before my boy, to spend time in the word & in prayer. to orient my day towards what really matters. it means serving selflessly, even when i'm tired. it means crying out to the lord on behalf of my loved ones. because, there will come a time again where i will suffer more intensely for god's glory. & i want my heart in a posture of preparation. & of joy.

following jesus is costly. & there are times we will grow weary.

but i've realized--it is worth enduring.

it is worth it for so many reasons. to be one that god uses to bring glory to his name. to bring about the redemption of those that are apart from god. to speak volumes of the power & provision of our holy father.

it will be worth it when this life is a mere breath of a shadow. when we stand there on that day. & hear the words well done, faithful servant. well done, my child.

so take heart, dear friends. i hope these truths refresh to your soul, as they have mine these past few days. for we are fighting a winning battle. wrapped in the arms of one that has suffered more than we could ever imagine. the one who knows just what we need to endure what is before us.

the one who loves us so.

love.

and still, there is grace.

how faithful our father is.

we have been on such a long journey these past few years. one full of trial, weakness, despair & sometimes even hopelessness. yet now, we adjust to this new season that has come upon us so quickly. a reprieve from the struggle of every day hardships.

and it's now, even more, i realize that oh, how much we have learned. how we have grown. been changed for the better.

this morning, i am freshly reminded of god's faithfulness. of the joy that i can feel seemingly deep in my bones. of the hope that i have in christ, & in this life.

what a unique sweetness i have felt in looking back over this hard time & seeing god's hand guiding us. holding us. seeing us through in ways our souls could only groan for in the moment. i have felt the presence & peace of a father that loves me so well. & i have seen with what seems like new eyes. the countless blessings that i have in my life. and how there are so many, many things that we don't deserve, & yet can call our own.

i know that there will come a time again when my heart is troubled. when i feel the fear & lack of joy creep in to my person.

but for today, there is grace.

and i'm learning that, when that moment comes, there is more grace still. when i try to succeed on my own, and fail, there is even more grace.

by god's grace, i'm beginning to understand my need for it. & that it is ever with me.

praying that you find rest in god's grace. today & every day.

love.