Don’t Give Me Diamonds

We got engaged on Valentine’s Day and you gave me a diamond. That was eight years ago.

In eight years we have lived in three cities, had four different jobs, one master’s degree and four kids.

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Eight years ago on that night I imagined Prince Charming and Cinderella. Gazing and frolicking into eternity. I knew the words from 1 Corinthians 13 but I had no idea what they meant.

Love is patient, love is kind. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

This Valentine’s Day eight years later, I have learned that love is so much more precious than diamonds. Sweeter than candy. More beautiful than a bouquet of radiant red roses.

Love is a choice. Built on hard work and moments together that are not as “frolicky” and glamorous as I thought they might be.

Eight years later I am thankful that we have chosen to love in all of our moments, the good and the bad. We have persevered through the pressure cooker of four kids in less than five years.  We have built a life together.

We have moments more important than diamonds.

This Valentine’s Day I don’t want the diamonds or the gifts. I just want you.

I want your time and your laugh.

I want you holding our baby daughter late at night.

I want you leaning over the twin sized bed in our son’s room; teaching him the Doxology and explaining what the word “faith” means.

I want you to swim with our sons and toss them around in the water.

I want you in the driver’s seat of our minivan when the sunlight hits your graying temples and I can see how our moments together have aged you.

I want you in the good and the bad. Even when I make you crazy mad and upset with me.

I want you to love me in this postpartum mess of emotions and elastic pants.

I want your patience, kindness and faithfulness even when I don’t deserve it.

I want your southern smile when I ask you to take a trash bag of stinky diapers outside in the polar vortex and ice and snow.

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After eight years I don’t want the diamonds or the flowers or chocolates. I just want the moments.

Not the frolicky. Not the glamorous.

The kissing before we’ve brushed our teeth with four kids in between us moments.

The love is patient, love is kind moments of everyday life.

The moments when we go on a date in our sweatpants because we are too tired to get dressed.

The moments that prove we have chosen love. We have chosen one another. We have persevered through the good and the bad.

That is an always and forever kind of love.

Please this Valentine’s Day, I just want you. I want you next to me even if it’s in our sweatpants on the couch with a bag of Kirkland popcorn.

No diamonds. Just you. Just the way you are. With your graying temples and my more rounded hips.

Continue to just give me the moments. It is not in the frolicking or the glamor but in the real moments of our life together when I experience the 1 Corinthians 13 kind of love.

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My Husband’s Birthday

I have read stories of husbands and wives going on weekend trips to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries.

My heart longs with envy when I read of these things. We live a much more simple life here in this house and weekend getaways just are not a reality for us right now.

We have lots of kids, all under five and we are expecting number four in about two months so finding someone willing to even stay with our kids is challenging – not to mention a pregnant lady in her third trimester would not be the best weekend getaway buddy.

So the weekend getaway was not going to happen for us this year on my husband’s birthday.

Husbands Birthday

i thought of things that he might like but decided we don’t really need another gadget or tool around here.

So I went back to the basics and I came up with the perfect idea for my husband’s birthday.

Fourteen planned, paid for and babysitter arranged date nights.

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It’s basic, simple, perfect and aligns with our family goals for the year. My husband have been working hard to get away from the kids and enjoy one another weekly for the sake of our marriage.

With all these babies around us it has been difficult to connect as husband and wife without the titles of mommy and daddy. I knew he would appreciate planned date nights for the next four months.

When I told the kids about my husband’s present they wanted to join in on the fun too. So I planned a free activity for each of them to have one on one time with their dad and they each will get to have a meal with my husband at their favorite fast food establishment.

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i started planning about three weeks ago. I looked at our calendars and made a list of dates.

I then emailed a long list of kind hearted friends and family members to sign up for free babysitting. This is truly a collaborative effort and with the exception of two dates being covered by my husband’s sister the other twelve were quickly filled by friends from church.

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Finally I went out to get the gift cards. Each envelope has a gift card or cash enclosed based on what we are doing. I tried to buy all the gift cards at Kroger and I purchased the local small business gift cards with cash so my husband couldn’t track my spending.

And there you have it. Date nights set for the next four months even with a new baby coming in the middle of all of it.

This only cost a little under 300 dollars. Like I said we live a pretTy simple life.

Happy Birthday to my husband and cheers to my married life with him.

Find more to the story here… I love to write about “Redeeming Date Night.”

How Saying No Is Leading Me To More Yes

If you have happened to cross my path in the last ten years you might have seen a whirling tornado of lists and calendars and book studies swoop by you. For the past decade I have immersed myself in busyness; being involved help me feel in control and together.

The more involved I was in activities on campus, at work or in the church the more I felt in control of my moment by moment. If I planned out every second there were no surprises and I kind of like it that way.

My involvement in just about everything not only gave me control of my moment by moment but it also gave me significance.

“Doing” has become a god for me and little by little I have found myself finding my ultimate significance in my successes and failures.

Just to give you a small picture of what this tornado of lists and calendars and books studies looks like- here are a few of the things I said yes to last year.

My God
My marriage
My three sons aged 3, 2 and 1
Women’s bible study
A mentoring opportunity with an older woman
Leading a discipleship group of 15 faithful and godly young women
One on one discipleship with a sweet friend
Teaching Sunday School to preschoolers
Classroom Coordinator at Preschool
Women’s Retreat Planning Leadership Team
Trained for a half marathon
Started a blog

Okay, seriously, right? I know it looks crazy but once you sit down and write all the things down that you commit yourself to in a year it can look overwhelming.

I know you probably do just as much as I do.

So what?

Well, I have a distorted view of myself and my gospel. I have made my involvement big and my God small. My pendulum swings too hard when I rise and fall.

I want to be steady when the waves come and still be steady even if the waves don’t come at all.

This year I am saying no to all of it- obviously with the exception of the first three: My God, my marriage and my sons.

This was so hard especially when there was a ministry fair at our church and I could see myself walking down to the rows of tables and writing my name on every sign up sheet.

Or when I am not really sure if there will be someone to step in and lead this group of fifteen faithful young women and I love them and want them to continue to grow in the knowledge of God.

It is tempting for me to get involved. To be in control. To have my hands holding up the world instead of letting go and trusting that it is God who holds up the world.

Saying No

So I am saying no.

So I am going to stop doing.

I am going to make myself small so God can be big.

It seems both insane and lazy to me but I really think believing the gospel for me this year requires me to let go of everything and trust in the One Who is before all things and in Whom (not in Rachel) all things hold together. (Colossians 1:16)

Saying no will be a step of faith- to trust that I don’t keep my world from spinning around and I am not in control of my moment by moment.

Saying no will help me see that I do not begin and end any ministry. It is only the Alpha and Omega Who is the beginning and the end.

This year I hope saying no will allow me to say yes.

Yes to my big God who is pleased with me when my name isn’t on any sign up sheets.

Yes to my husband who is most likely tired of receiving leftovers from me because I am giving my best to everyone else and yes to more date nights.

Yes to my sons. Less putting them to bed early so I can lead a bible study or dragging them to nursery care so I can be involved in women’s bible study. Yes to their spiritual health and family devotional times around our kitchen table. Yes to discipline that is consistent and loving instead of exhausted and impatient.

Yes to my daughter arriving in December and yes to enjoying my last round of late nights feeding her and caring for her.

Yes to being available to be a better friend.

This year I feel a call to be still. (Psalm 46:10)

I am making myself small and trying to break the cistern.

I can already hear a loud exhale as I stop trying to hold up my world. Stopping everything is leading me to see Christ more clearly and giving me freedom to say yes to the most important things God has given to me.

My sweet family

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You can pray for me as I take on this “year of just saying no.” Sneaky and tempting opportunities to get involved will be coming my way like wolves in sheep’s clothing.

You can also make a list of all the things you say yes to in a calendar year. Where is God calling you to make yourself small so you can see that He is big?

Please share this on Facebook and Twitter with your friends. Maybe someone else out there needs to hear that God is pleased with them even when their name is not on a sign up sheet.

He holds up the world- not us.

Why The Twos Aren’t Terrible

I cringe every time I hear someone say the phrase.

It’s like anticipating a great meal at a restaurant and someone tells you, oh… but it’s terrible. Or the movie you’ve waited to see all year gets a terrible review and you read it right after purchasing your ticket.

Hearing the phrase “terrible twos” can be a major let down. It sets young mothers up to anticipate a year of pure horror. I cringe when I hear a more experienced mom telling a newer mom these words. It makes moms look at the year of two through a lens of negativity, anticipating the worst.

Now in all seriousness, I am a realist and I don’t live in on a fluffy cloud of sparkles with rainbows and unicorns. My children are just like all other children. They throw tantrums and disobey my voice. My children are opinionated, strong willed and have been found to lay face down on the floor crying during church. But my children are far from terrible.

My oldest is four and a half and my second born turns three in a few days. I am not an expert but I have recently lived through two (almost) consecutive years of life with a two year old (I have a twenty one month old as well so I am on the brink of another stab at it).

And I will say it. The twos aren’t terrible at all and I really wish I would stop hearing the bummer phrase. I am really on a mission to stop the phrase all together.

The year of two should be called “The Passionate Twos” instead.

Okay, so the alliteration is not there but the terrible defined is: to cause great fear or alarm or even dreadful.

In contrast, passionate defined is: capable of having or dominated by powerful emotions.

Have you ever looked at a two year old and sensed great fear?

The Passionate Twos

I don’t sense great fear looking at that baby face.

But The Passionate Two Year Old is very capable of having powerful emotions (like: laying face down on the floor and crying their sweet little eyes out).

They cry big but the laugh big and love big too.

The Passionate Two Year Old is learning to express what they want.

Instead of a “grown up” nonchalant eye roll or deep sigh, twos only know how to lay on the floor and cry.

And I don’t blame them either. A two year old does not yet have the social cues to know that it is unacceptable to lay on the floor and cry and a two year old has not quite learned how to deal with disappointment because they have experienced very few disappointing circumstances in their short seven hundred and thirtyish days of living.

Really, since birth a two year old has (pretty much) gotten what they needed when they needed it.

Diaper changes, food, sleep and playtime and then when their little brains start thinking in their own way and hear the word “no” we as adults have decided to call the The Passionate Two Year Old, being dominated by intense emotion, terrible or dreadful.

Why do we do that? And why do we then feel like we are important enough to turn around and let younger moms know “what is coming.”

How could this be terrible?

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How could someone who wants to “be cozy with you” be terrible?

How could someone who builds a tall tower for the first time and says, “I did it mommy” be terrible?

Two year olds go through so much change and we should give them more credit. Their ability to speak and reason change dramatically in their second year and most two year olds change to a toddler bed, get a new sibling, give up their pacifiers and learn how to use the potty in the year of two.

That is an enormous amount of change for a little one.

As adults we ask two year olds to cope with so much and then gasp when they express intense emotion.

I think two year olds are pretty amazing.

Curious.

And sweet.

But just because they are passionate does not make them terrible at all.

If you are expecting, have an infant or a one year old please know what is coming next is not terrible, dreadful or a year of intense fear.

The year of two is teaching your precious, sweet, curious child to deal with their intense emotions they are experiencing for the first time like disappointment, jealousy, envy and loss. (I honestly know many adults well into their thirties who don’t handle any of those emotions very well yet.)

The year of two is filled with some of the best story times, longest snuggles, I love you mommys, first sweet thankful prayers, bear hugs, imaginative play and curiosity that cannot be harnessed.

Advocate for your Passionate Two Year Old and stop saying “Terrible Twos!”

Sheesh, two year olds are not terrible at all.

Happy Birthday Sweet Asher, your passion, sweetness and curiosity have inspired this post and made me a better mommy.

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You may also like:

Hurry http://onewiththepastor.com/2013/07/01/hurry/

The Cape http://onewiththepastor.com/2013/03/04/the-cape/

Searching For Snow http://onewiththepastor.com/2013/03/02/searching-for-snow/

Whatever Is Lovely…About My Husband

My worst enemy seems to prodding at my husband lately. In my thought life I have found myself majoring on the minors and letting my toxic thoughts affect my relationship with him.

When I say it out loud it sounds silly.

The ice cream dish in the sink… what a monster.

The hanger left out from ironing his shirt…he can’t get it together.

The shaving cream in the sink…what a despicable man.

These are truly the things that ruffle my feathers about my husband; dirty dishes, hangers and shaving cream. The toxicity in my mind no matter how much I hate to admit it contaminates my relationship with my husband. Sometimes I am mad at him before he even gets home from work because I have let my mind fester on these minor imperfections.

My worst enemy wins when I don’t fight against negative thoughts about my husband.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

I saw an image of my husband from this past Easter Sunday. He is an important man and just like all the other men of our church he was in his blazer, dress pants and pressed shirt on Sunday morning. However, he was not in the worship service, he was in a small room across the hall with the preschool children.

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He was singing songs with them and laying on the floor with them, in his fancy Sunday clothes. I don’t know many people who are truly joyful about serving with children on Easter Sunday but he is and I know for sure you would not find me laying on the ground in my Easter outfit being silly with the children.

These are the lovely images and thoughts about my husband I am working to focus my mind on. The humble man laying on the ground with the tiny worshippers of our church, the mountain top moments where I can see the whole picture of who God is making my husband to be in Christ.

Your worst enemy might be attacking your husband too. Or maybe your roommate, your parents or your children.

How can you give them more grace in your thought life? Can you find a mountain top moment to battle the little annoyances that might go through your mind throughout the day?

I am battling to give my husband more grace in my thought life. To focus on the lovely instead of the dishes, hangers and shaving cream. He deserves for me to see him as Christ sees him. The redeemed prince, on the floor in his suit, praising Jesus with the little children.

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