4.23.2018

Failing Followers: questioning the qualifications {Blogging through the Bible}

devotion book of mark mark 9 the man driving out demons competition vs. kinship and teamwork for the kingdom of God christian devotion about insecurity


For the past few months, I've been hooked on babywearing.

What started as a practical way to snuggle my boy while also getting things done has become something of an obsession. According to my husband, I watch approximately 100 hours of wrapping videos a week. He knows all the terms, too-- cross passes, slack, top rail, tapers, transfers... and he's never even wrapped himself! Sooo maybe I talk about it too much. Haha. I'm hooked! What can I say.

To be honest, I think it's kept me from getting a little stir crazy- learning new ways to tie my wrap and perfecting the carries that I know already has satisfied my need to be intellectually stimulated, and I've found a community of like-minded geeks online. I like it. I like it a lot. I wear my little fellow almost every day, usually in several different carries a day.

And so, when someone asked me if I'd like doing a beginning baby wrapping class at the nearest Guiding Star, I was excited. I really enjoy sharing my passions (ahem, obsessions) with other people. And my husband would probably appreciate it if I talked to someone, anyone, else about figuring out a double hammock tied saltwater.

But as I thought more about it, the insecurities started popping up.

I mean, I've been wrapping for less than a year. I only just started getting back carries figured out. I've only ever wrapped one child (as opposed to folks who "tandem wear"-- or wear two children at one time). Who am I to teach other people??

4.13.2018

This Week: 04.13.2018

My totally naive self thought that after having this baby, I'd still be writing as much as ever.

Maybe more, even, I thought...  since I'm not really working anymore. Being a "stay at home mom" would open up hours and hours to spend thinking and writing and reading, right? HA.

I sorely, sorely misunderstood the time commitment and intellectual commitment my little miracle would bring along with him. I kind of knew that having a baby would be work, but I don't think I realized (and I'm not sure you really can realize, until you're in the thick of it) just how much brainpower and energy would go directly to loving and caring for my little fella.

Soooo. Yeah, not writing as much as I'd like to. By any means.

And so, after doing almost no thinking about it, I've decided to use these Friday posts in a more all-encompassing way and fit a whole bunch of things into one quick, chatty blurb. We'll see how it goes. Let me know what you think.



It seemed nearly impossible, but we've burned through the huge stockpile of wood that was cut and stored in a shed already when we bought the house. Trevor's been going out and cutting up the dead fall in our grove, so the fireplace is still a-goin'. 

4.09.2018

Failing Followers: misunderstanding greatness {Blogging through the Bible}

greatness in the kingdom of God gospel of mark christian devotion


I kind of knew that being a mom would be challenging.

I mean, I've been around kids my whole life- I grew up in a relatively large family, my mom did home daycare for a while, I have oodles of nieces and nephews...

But I guess when I thought about being a parent, I didn't really take into account all the things that came with it. Especially after we waited and prayed for this child for five long years... I guess that I somehow thought that after our battle with infertility, I'd come through the flames infinitely patient and wise and even-tempered.

Cut to last night, rocking my freshly bathed little boy to sleep.... I was actually afraid that I was going to literally drop him as my super-angry little overtired rage monster made serious attempts to throw himself out of my arms while screaming at the top of his tiny lungs.

3.26.2018

Failing Followers: stagnant in the sacred {Blogging through the Bible}

gospel of Mark Christian devotion about the transfiguration


I was probably about ten on one particular trip home from Grandma's.

My grandparents lived more than two hours away, which, at ten, felt like an eternity. We were getting back late in the evening, our van quiet with my sleeping sisters, and from my seat in the middle of the van, I felt cozy, warm, secure. I was struck by an overwhelming sense of contentment, and as we pulled into our neighborhood, I piped up and asked, to my parents' confusion-- "Can we drive around for a little longer?"

3.19.2018

Mark and Messy Disciples: a review so far {Blogging through the Bible}

Have you ever started a project that turned into something much, much bigger than you'd expected?

I have.

In fact, I do it all the time... (for example, refer to my idea of refinishing the wood floors in our house). I start with the idea and I understand the basic concept, but the actual execution is much, much more intense that I expect.

This devotional series in Mark has been no different.

To be honest, when I started exploring the book of Mark, I kind of thought that pointing out the mistakes the disciples made in this book and then how we as Christians make the same mistakes would be somewhat uncomplicated. What I didn't realize was that this series was going to expose me.

3.12.2018

Failing Followers: rejecting the hard truths {Blogging through the Bible}



This past Fall, I sat in our little sterile hospital room in the NICU. I'd just woken up from a nap on the makeshift couch-bed that had been my sleeping spot for more than a month, and my little guy snoozed peacefully in his crib, monitors quiet and his little heart rate bouncing happily on the screen.

It had been a long, long journey. I was worn out, tired from waking up every three hours at feeding times, tired because my body was recovering from surgery, tired because even with all the monitors and nurses, I was terrified that my baby would stop breathing, tired because periodic breathing sucks. The night before had been particularly rough- for some reason my poor tiny baby had been throwing up his feedings, spectacular enormous spit ups that didn't seem normal to me at all, and I was worried. I'd changed his little outfit three times overnight because he just kept soaking it.

My phone rang- it was my husband. I answered the call and relished the sound of his voice- I was tired from missing him, too.

"I have some sad news," he said, and I heard my big strong husband's voice catch a little. "Bear died."