Annnnd...nothing

Honesty. I'm all about it.

And right now, I've got nothing. I'm legitimately sitting here staring at my blank blogger post screen wondering what on earth I can write about, because as much as my heart is pitter pattering over the fact that I'm sitting to type, it isn't getting anything out.

Nothing worth reading, anyway.

Nothing funny.

Nothing serious.

It's just blank.

I think I'll go curl up under a blanket. Sleep? Read? Watch a movie?

I don't know, but curling up under a blanket sounds more appealing than wanting to write and having nothing.

Praying for Him: His Identity

Over a 30 week period, which I began on the blog with an intro on May 1st (so, 31 if you count the intro), I will be doing a weekly series where I talk about my journey through Stormie Omartian's Power of  a Praying Wife. I felt led to pray for my husband and wanted to incorporate the book, especially because I'm new to specifically and fervently praying for my husband and had no clue where to begin, but knew that doing a 30 day challenge was next to impossible. (Stormie challenges wives to do a chapter/day and there are 30 chapters.) Let's face it: life with a baby just-turned-Toddler changes constantly and there are still nights with many wake up calls due to teething or illness. I'd already tried once and failed.  So this series was born as a way to share, encourage, and hold me accountable to the commitment I made but also keep it within reach. I'll keep a list of links on each post so you can easily access them all. Enjoy! (Oh and please NOTE: anything about Ben has been ok'd by him to post before I ever do. If he isn't ok with it, it never meets your eyes.)

Week 1: Intro     Week 2: Starting with Me
___________________________________________________________

"For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?" - Jesus (Matthew 16:26 NASB)

As this week seemed to be wrapped around my husband's identity (aka his work - I'll explain a bit more later), I thought it only appropriate to start with this verse.

(But because my mind seems to be ever rabbit trailing these days, I'm going to interject for a moment. Yes, I'm interrupting myself. Very uncouth. I'm aware.

Anyway...

Actually...

I'm gonna get back to the topic at hand and will write a seperate post with an awesome experience I had while praying this week. I'll try to get it up sometime next week. And back to the original intent of this post.)

Ok.

So I thought it appropriate to start there. Why?

Well, one of my initial thoughts in praying for my husband's job wrapped around this idea: I've heard people confess before that they are afraid to pray for the job because they are afraid asking his job be blessed means wealth and wealth will be their undoing. I've also heard people confess the exact antithesis of my first sentence: praying for their husbands job because they want a lot of wealth and to be free of any financial difficulty (read: selfish gain). And honestly, I've been guilty of both. 

This was not what I wanted to be doing after I read the title: His Work. (I must admit I am loving how Stormie keeps the chapter titles so simple. Easy to remember!) I also knew that after reading the intro and first topic this was likely not where Stormie would be going with it. At least, the intent behind actually praying would not be for selfish gain and thus it would trample out the fear to be praying his job be blessed.

I treaded lightly into this week wondering what I might learn, asking God to open my eyes to how this might truly benefit my husband. And in just a few short paragraphs, I knew that I would constantly be thanking Him for the gift of His Spirit who intercedes for me with words when I have none (see Romans 8:26).

Why?

I guess you need a bit of a back story, so let me be open with you: I married a could-be-workaholic. (read: it's a constant battle. One that seems to win at times, but not at others.)

One of the many fears I battle was and is to have a workaholic husband, who though loved me and my child (and any subsequent children) greatly, loved his work more. Maybe out of fear. Maybe out of enjoyment. I could really care less the reason, but it has always been one of my greatest fears because in my mind a marriage can only go downhill from there. I'm not quite sure where I ever got this mental image, but I have it. And I constantly have to set it at the foot of the cross trusting that He has a far greater plan than what I may be able to see at the time.

And before you get any ideas, please understand: Ben is a wonderful husband. He knows that he could become a workaholic. We're open and honest about how we're feeling about that. We revisit the topic on a pretty frequent basis. No, we don't beat a dead horse with a stick. We just make sure we're on the same page and both feeling good about where we are with it. He does his very best to make sure that he shows me he cares and loves both me and Zoë more than his job. He does his best to battle that drive in himself. (read: he prays about it. And from the prayers he has said with me, I'm guessing he prays about it a lot.)

So I treaded lightly. (And in the back of my mind, and heart, I can hear 1 John 4:18, "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love.")

But, lo and behold, Stormie must have been lighted on by the Spirit when she wrote this chapter (Umm...at least it seems she was for me in this time), because only a few paragraphs in I read this: "What causes a man to go to either extreme [laziness vs. workaholism] can be, oddly enough, the same reason: fear. That's because a man's identity is often very tied up in his work." (PoPW p. 50)

You guys, call me crazy, but I had another "light bulb" or "Aha!" moment when I read this. Not because I haven't heard this before, but because in that moment I knew what I would be praying for when it came to my husband's job.

Yes, I would (and will) be praying that God bless the work of his hands.

Yes, I would be praying that he find the balance between laziness (I'm not sure that I really ever fear seeing him as lazy, but it's still good to pray against it) and workaholism.

Yes, I would be praying that he constantly seek God's will in his work. That he would be living so deep in the heart of God he would not waiver in knowing that he was fulfilling the purpose God had paved for him.

But most importantly, I would praying for his identity, and that he would find it in God. Not his job, because above all of the other details I would be praying for, if Ben doesn't find his identity in Christ, he will lose the battle he faces with working his hind end off.

And the fear I had of praying it be blessed and what we would do with money should it come flowing in one day or the selfish gain that cluttered my heart when I did find myself brave enough to pray dissipated. No, I'm not perfect. Yes, I will still struggle with both I am sure. Yet, greater than the fear or selfish gain is a desire to see my husband pursue his First Love, to find himself only when he is in Him, and out of that love for God would be a worshipful attitude exuded in and permeating his work.

Thus in essence, I would be praying for his job. I'm beginning to see that prayer is very cyclical. It's all wrapped up in one minute, yet heavily profound, detail: finding identity in God.

On a bit of a lighter note, I was also reminded of two needs guys typically see their job as a means to acheive: appreciation and winning.

Though I haven't talked with Ben about whether he feels appreciation and a sense of "winning" from our relationship recently, I do know this: I want him to feel more appreciated and like he's won at home than at work. And even greater than that: in his relationship with the Lord. So I found myself praying and asking God to help me see how I can make him feel appreciated. And how I can make him feel a sense of "I'm winning."

Funny, I found myself walking in on tip-toes and leaving feeling like I just finished a good ocean plunge. You know the one: you're out deep in the surf allowing waves to wash over you and you just bask in that feeling of letting go. Fear mixed with adrenaline. (Well, I describe it like that because I've met some pretty crazy waves in Tobago - a tiny island 8 miles off Trinidad's coast - and I've been pulled by the under tow of a huge Florida gulf wave only to see my life literally flash before my eyes as I wonder if I'm going to make it for fresh air or if my time has come.) Yep. That's how I'd describe it.

Quite a thrill. Much more than I expected, and boy am I glad it was.

Next week I'll be talking about my week of praying for his finances. Who knows what that will look like. God is continually surprising me.

That's Awkward

*Update: I also noticed (literally just noticed...yeah. I'm not sure where my brain has hidden itself.) that today should be SSMT 2013 #10. I may or may not get to that later today. Looks like I'm gonna have a two post day around here somewhere. Cest la vie.*

Oh yes. I couldn't resist. And so I'm moving my PoPW post to Thursday. If you've been following that, don't worry. I really will be posting it tomorrow. If you haven't, you can catch up here and here.

Anywho, I wanted to link up with Amy for her The Awkward Years link-up. Too fun to pass up.

*Side note* Is it just me or is even the word "awkward", well, awkward? *end Side note* I have no clue exactly how others are doing this, but I thought I'd share a couple of photos. Only one of them is slightly embarassing to mass produce (read: post online for anyone to see). The rest were bits and pieces of me that I found awkward through my middle and high school years. So, let's get to it. First up:

The arrows are all pointing to me. (How unfortunate! Ha!) Let me explain the numbers. (Oh and by the way, I defaced everyone because I didn't stay in touch with most of these people and don't know if they'd want this displayed on the internet. [aka I spared them the embarrassment :)])

1) I still had bangs. This was the 90s so maybe that still kind of fit in back then, but out of all those marked out faces, I think only 3 of us had bangs. Yeah. I was behind the times. (Though I'm pretty sure at this point I had already been pleading with my mom to let me grow them out. We still can't figure out why it took so long for her to get on board me as both my younger and older sister had grown theirs out. Weird.) (Also, I know bangs are coming back. I just am no fan of them for myself and wanted off that band wagon a long time ago. Nothing against them, and many people rock them, they just aren't for me.)

2) Ummm...that outfit. Yeah. I think it speaks for itself.

3) Notice out of all those feet I'm the only one rocking keds knock-off shoes. And colored socks. You guys, for F.O.R.E.V.E.R. I had to have socks that matched my outfit. Thankfully, I'd bypassed my sock rolling years by the time this photo was taken. (I'm talking literally rolled down. Not just folded over. *face meet palm* And no, I have no photo to show you. Betchya my mom does though.) Unfortunately, I missed the "pull your socks as high up as they go" band wagon. I liked to fold them over. Don't ask. I don't know. And I will forever only buy my child no-show socks for summer time. She can find some other way to embarrass herself. (read: embarrass me...I'm already asking God for the grace to let her be her own person and not worry about how that reflects on me. Within reason, of course.)

Oh boy! Was that a gem. And on to my next piece of black mail. Umm...yeah. I hope I never find any of this used to black mail me. Just sayin'.

So for this one, the photo itself isn't too embarrassing. I'm wearing clothes that I still wear today. (No. Not the actual clothing. Just the type of clothing: jean shorts and t-shirts. I don't think that will ever go "out of style". Not that it's really a style. It's just good ol' comfy clothes. 'Nough said.)  However, the early 1900s called and they want my glasses back. (I'm not kidding. Check out this page on eyeglass history.) I mean, really?! I still to this day don't know what I was thinking. I will give myself this margin of error: it is RIDICULOUSLY hard to find good looking glasses for my tiny face. Seriously. You, again, can ask my mom who has been with me many times. I'm pretty sure we go through about 50+ pairs every. single. time.  Here's a little story on how difficult it is for me to find adult glasses that fit my face: Just a little over a year ago I was looking for new glasses. The girl working was really sweet and trying to pull different frames for me that she thought would work. This one pair of kid sized frames fit my face really well but, boy, did I look like I was in high school. I quickly pulled them off. She asked me what I didn't like about them and I told her. She asked me how old I was. When I told her I was 25, she stared at me and apologized. She thought I was 18 and told me they were kids frames. Yeah. It ain't easy finding a good pair of glasses for me that don't make me look 16. I'm not complaining that I look young. I just don't need help in that department. I already get glares like I'm too young to have Zoë. Ha! Sorry this one is fuzzy. I had to crop it so you could really see what I'm talking about for this one. The picture itself looks normal to most people. However, to me, it's embarrassing because I know that I'm not really smiling. I couldn't stand that gap between my teeth. I know it doesn't bother many people (I'm talking those who have a gap); I'm also well aware that many people never noticed mine, even if I was showing it. My parents paid a pretty penny to change my smile; they paid a pretty penny for me to feel comfortable truly smiling. The picture before this was a rare one in that you can see the gap I always covered when I smiled. Maybe not too awkward to some, but I find it a little strange that I worried about my smile. I am glad that I have the smile that I do now though :) That about wraps up my post. I sifted through the pics I have and these were really the only ones I had stuff I could talk about. I know there are more, but they are all four hours away from my in a cabinet at my mom's house. Hope you enjoyed these gems! And click the button if you want to see other's posts they linked too!

This Weekend, I [v. 4]

I was going to write another memory down, another gift to cherish but my mind won't stop racing. Anything and everything flashes across it.

I can barely keep my eyes focused on this screen.

So because my mind can only barely bullet, I'm going to link up with Sar for a nice This weekend, I.

Yes. That sounds wonderful.


This weekend, I enjoyed yet another weekend of Ben being off on Saturday. I'm telling you, if we can keep this up I'm really not going to like when he has to work on a Saturday again. But, hopefully that will be a long time coming. Hopefully.

This weekend, I went on a "date" with the hubs. Yes, he asked me out on a date. This means we spend intentional time together after Zoë goes down because let's face it: we're not raking in the dough. We're just starting off. (Sometimes, I feel weird saying that because we have a baby. It's almost like that weird pre-teen stage where you wanna say you're a teenager but you're really not. Yeah. That's kind of how it makes me feel. Classifications. They're funny things.) And so we played monopoly. He really wanted to do something more, but after he realized we have 0 candles (yes. shoot me now! we've lived in too many homes that didn't allow them and now we have no room for them.)...well, let's just say he's planning a romantic home dinner for another day and time. Props to him for the thought though!

This weekend, I enjoyed relaxing around the home and watching Ben interact with Zoë. It's always fun for me to see her interact with him.

This weekend, I was given some of the prettiest Orchids that will hopefully allow me to enjoy them for many years to come. I'm all about a gift that keeps giving, especially when it comes to flowers.

This weekend, I was given a pretty hilarious mother's day card, which helped me find the sweet part of the day for myself. It was a very bittersweet day for me.

This weekend, I went grocery shopping. That's actually kind of a norm. A little boring? Maybe. But Ben and I enjoy doing it together and making it a family outing. It definitely makes it more enjoyable and easier for me because: 1) I am no fan of grocery shopping and 2) I have another set of hands to keep Zoë occupied. I might need to change that up a bit, though I would hate doing it at night because parking here is ridciulous (read: if you arrive in our parking lot after 5 pm, you might just be walking a mile from the back of the complex.) and sometimes I'm just no fan of taking Zoë with me. It takes twice as long and I already don't like it. Clearly, I need to get over one of my hang ups here. Clearly.

This weekend, I, on more than one occasion, found myself whispering these words to my Zoë: "I'm so glad that you made me a mommy." Another priceless positive I clung to when I found myself becoming sad.

This weekend, our entire little family was invited to enjoy lunch with some new friends we've made at our church. I'm so excited that we are starting to get plugged in. I also love this family. The mom is so sweet and I really feel like I could connect with her. Also, they have three boys which always makes me giggle inside to see them interact. It gives me a slight glimpse into the future of Lindsey with her three. (Baby Tyler, we cannot wait to meet you! You will change us all for the better.)

Twitter Provoked Thoughts

Linking up with Amy from Taking Steps Home for Frankly Friday. :) (And if you don't know who she is, you should check her blog out. I love reading her posts. She's so honest! Maybe that's why she started this little linky party ;])



"Whatever your job may be, when you're a Christian you ultimately work for Jesus as an act of worship and a witness to others." - Mark Driscoll (@PastorMark)

"If you're waiting for your sin nature to surrender, you're dreaming. It's a fight till death." - Louie Giglio (@louiegiglio)

These are two tweets that came across my scroll (I don't know what to call it. And I like the sound of that. Ok? Sounds good to me.) the other day.

Both left me thinking.

Thinking about how I sit around thinking about all I wish I was as a follower of Christ. But doing nothing about it.

Of course, this goes more with the fact that I idolize those who are "in the ministry". You know: pastors and worship leaders and christian writers. Those who I feel, at least outwardly, live daily working a job that is for Jesus. Not that they aren't living it inwardly, but the truth is, many of them I don't know from Adam. So I really don't know if the inside meets road with the outside. Oh, and I often don't know what their actual daily life looks like.

I've idolized those people who must be living for Jesus because their job says they have to. (Oi! Are my thoughts full of fallacy or what? Good ol' lies straight from the pit.)

My job certainly doesn't seem to fit the bill. (That is by worldly standards.)

Clean the house. Change diapers. Make sure food is there and ready and/or accessible for all meals. Read Good Dog, Carl by Alexandra Day 100 times. Change diapers. Stack and push over blocks 2,300 times. Run errands. Play with Little People. Put the toddler down for a nap. Redirect a curious toddler 2,324,304 times a day. Read Barnyard Dance by Sandra Boynton 230.5 times. Change diapers. Put the toddler down for a nap. Clean dishes. Play with the light switch for however long it entertains. Watch Praise Baby. Crawl on all fours. Change diapers. Discover the taste of a magnet. (Do we remember this subconciously? Is that why we don't put the magnet in our mouth when we could remember how it tastes?) Wash laundry. (Did I mention change diapers?) Listen to my husband who is eager to tell me about his day. Put the toddler down for the night. Wrap up whatever it is I didn't get to before then. Hit the sack.

And it repeats itself with slight variations on a daily basis. (You know, throw in a bible study, play date, library time, zoo trip, whatever it may be.) (Oh. And please do not read into how I wrote that list. I am not mumbling it off like I hate reading to my daughter or listening to my husband and begrudge that I have to do those things on a daily basis. Yes. I am human. I have my bad days where I want the world to revolve around me, but generally, I am very happy that I get to do most of that on a daily basis. And the parts that I haven't learned to love, well...I'm praying I will.)

I find my mind bogged down believing that there is nothing holy about this mothering/home keeper job. That certainly this isn't a higher calling on my life from the Creator of the Universe.

But it is. Because it is here in this time and place that He has directly placed me. It is here in this time and place that He brought me and my husband to believe it is the best, most God-glorifying act for our family to have a sole provider and a sole home manager and day-time child caretaker.

This is no mistake.

It is as He planned.

Which is probably why I battle those horrible lies:

You are not enough.

She is not getting the best mothering that she could.

You could do a better job of ______________. (Yes, that truly is a has-a-million-different-answers fill-in-the-blank.)

If only you would do _____________, then your home would be truly cared for. (Another multi-faceted fill-in-the-blank.)

You didnt do _______________ and your husband noticed. You let him down. Big. (And another. I think I'm seeing a pattern here...just maybe.)

There are a million different lies on a million different days that I am sure have flashed across my mind. That, like Louie Giglio stated so well, I will be battling until death.

And I can only believe that it is because this job that I don't always treat as the higher calling it is truly is a higher calling.

This idol I've made of "ministry" jobs, those jobs that just happen to be called so by our world, must die. I cannot serve God the way I should if I'm believing this isn't as great as those jobs. I will only sit around thinking of what He asks of me rather than doing what it is He's called me to here and now.

Which can include diaper changing. Did you know that?

What is it He has called you to? Do you fully embrace that it is your calling? Or do you find yourself believing the lies so easily slipped in by the Enemy?