This post makes me cry, every single time. It’s so worth it. (and next week, I promise a different topic!)
Food for Thought Fridays: The Lines of a Story
Filed under Uncategorized
one step at a time
I’m a runner. Although these days I often feel like an imposter when I say that – so maybe I should instead say, “I was a runner.” Or, “I used to be a runner.” Because, honestly, I don’t run that much anymore. And not only do I not run all that much, but I also unsubscribed to Runner’s World (okay, that happened a few years back), have stopped reading running blogs, and have no idea how many miles I’ve logged in my current pair of running shoes. 
Clearly, not a runner.
But I’ve just started to run again after my daughter was born (which you can read about here and here), and I am reminded of the tremendous humility it takes to do something that was once easy. Not only was I a runner, once, but I was a good runner. Not an Olympian, not competitive on an elite team, but good for an average person.
I started running in middle school and haven’t really stopped since. There have been injuries and long, icy winters and months when I was bored or uninspired or too busy – but for the most part, I’ve been running for about two decades. So it’s never been that hard for me to go for a short run, or a quick run, or a short, quick run.
And then I had two kids. In less than two years. And let me tell you, that does a number on your body.
And now it IS that hard to go for a short run, or a quick run. And my short, quick runs are shorter and much less quick than before. Continue reading
Filed under body image, god & faith, identity, motherhood, prayer, running
Food for Thought Fridays
In the spirit of trying to establish a bit of routine (and since I LOVE routines), I have decided to start sharing a blog post written by someone else every Friday. I have a long list of these already that I’m eager to share with you, and each one has resonated deeply with me deeply.
So here’s the first!
Your Body is Not Your Masterpiece. This was passed around on the internet quite a bit a few months ago, but I’d also read it on Glennon’s blog, which I totally adore. She really tells it like it is, and usually has tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks. Continue reading
Filed under body image, Food for Thought Fridays, motherhood, writing
becoming holy and whole
Recently, I finished reading a book by one of my favorite bloggers, Micha Boyett (amazing what spending 8-10 hours a day nursing a newborn can do for that reading list!). Found is filled with so many jewels, so many wise words, so many moments that I identify with, as a still-new-to-motherhood mom and Christian struggling with balance and identity and jealousy and prayer and faith.
Which means that I wanted to share a few nuggets with you. And mostly just encourage you to read her new (and first!) book Found, because it is awesome.
I’ve been struggling with prayer these days. (And also with showering, and bitterness, and figuring out how not to feel constantly overwhelmed. I talk about this a bit in another recent post HERE.) I know I need to pray. I think it would make me feel better. I think it would make me act better, and have more hope. Continue reading
Filed under god & faith, motherhood, parenting, prayer, Uncategorized
community dreams
So I’ve been thinking a lot lately about community. The community that I long to have is starkly different from the community that I currently have. I dream about a community that starts with friends and grows to include spouses and children. I dream about our kids growing up together, seeing each other often and spontaneously, playing in the streets and running back and forth between houses, sharing snacks and swimsuits, sharing Thanksgiving and New Years Eve and the Fourth of July.
I dream of close friends who have “been there through thick and thin,” who show up at each other’s homes with meals and Kleenex and go out for girls’ nights and pedicures. I imagine my children growing up with a small circle of other adult figures around them, friends and mentors of mine who pray for them and help parent them, who fill in where I lack (anyone want to sew a Halloween costumes?) and who attend my kids’ weddings while recalling their first birthdays.
I am often frustrated, here in New York City, because my community doesn’t look like this. Continue reading
choosing this life
It has been a really long time since I’ve written. I’m sorry about that. Lots of excuses – obviously the two little ones, plus two weeks of travel (I took that photo of flowers when we were in Denver. They are lovely, right?), plus a lot of intense work preparing for an audition, plus other things, blah blah – but now here I am, ready to write again.
Well, sort of. My brain is filled with orchestral excerpts and my laundry has been scattered on the floor by the toddler (this is what I get for not putting it away immediately), and my current clothes have spit-up (newborn) and yogurt (toddler) and marker (toddler) all over them. And also, they are the same clothes that I wore yesterday since I currently only have one pair of jeans that fit. It’s hard to find the mental space and clarity to write anything that’s not a panicked text to my husband: Please pray for us. Both children have been crying for the last hour. I can’t get J to eat any dinner and HG won’t go to sleep. I am losing my mind.
But something interesting happened a few weeks ago. Out of the blue, someone reached out to me about an amazing job opportunity. It was an intense week. She needed to fill the position ASAP, so I thought and prayed and thought and prayed. I updated my resume, sent it in, had phone conversations and an in-person interview (the first question: “What can we do to make this work for you?”) and then made a decision all within nine days. And I don’t do things quickly.
September 17, 2014 · 3:35 pm
becoming four
Apparently having a newborn and a 21-month-old is no joke. I mean, not that I thought it was going to be easy, but – surprise – it’s harder than I imagined. And I have quite the imagination.
I’ve started at least a dozen blog posts since Hannah Grace was born (four weeks ago today — probably longer by the time I publish this post), but they have all been in my head. I did actually start one, but typing with only my left hand while holding a sleeping infant in my right didn’t allow me to get very far, and I probably fell asleep, was clobbered by a toddler, had to feed the infant, and/or other things before I could write more than six sentences anyway.
Also, I’m not sure if I managed to save those six sentences.
I debated dictating my posts, but wasn’t sure Siri could handle it. (Additionally, this debate took place in my head, since I rarely talk much to anyone over the age of 21 months.)
We are now a family of four, and in becoming a family of four, a change occurred. I lost our family of three. And, friends, I suck at change. Good change, bad change, inevitable change – all of it. Continue reading
Filed under depression, god & faith, motherhood, parenting, Uncategorized
practicing hope (part 4 of 4)
I’m not a particularly optimistic person (understatement of the year). Depression hasn’t helped. But I’m trying out this idea of allowing the dark times to teach me about myself and also about God.
I’ve written about how I believe that God uses our depression to teach us about our hearts and how we should use depression as a tool to examine what we worship. I’ve also written about how even though Edward Welch’s book on depression argues that suffering should bring us closer to God – because our world is broken and we are broken, often the opposite is true.
All of these things are helpful. Welch’s perspective on depression is profoundly shaping and changing my own. BUT. What I really want to know is what to do about the depression. Continue reading
Filed under depression, god & faith, music
a confession
I’m afraid to tell people that I’m a writer. I don’t feel like a writer. I want to be a writer – I’ve wanted it since I was about ten or eleven years old – but now, when I’m trying to focus on it with concentrated effort for the first time, trying to follow this longtime dream – I’m afraid to tell people.
Instead I say “I’ve got work to do” or I list the other half-dozen things that I might do during the two days that my son is in daycare. “You know, I’m cooking a meal for a friend that had surgery, and then I’m observing a bit of teaching for the girl I mentor and then I’m coaching a chamber music group and then I’m writing a proposal for a magazine. And then I’ve got to learn the music for that concert next week.” It’s never “I’m writing.”
Is it because I haven’t yet been published – outside the classical music realm and world? Is it because I feel like I’m just going through the motions – imitating what I imagine to be the life of a writer (who’s also essentially a full-time mom and in charge of everything in the home)? Is it because I’m afraid to tell people what I’m writing about? Continue reading
Filed under depression, parenting, writing
how can we respond? (part 3 of 4)
Last time, I waxed eloquent about God’s role in suffering (according to counselor and theologian Ed Welch) – God uses our suffering to teach us about our hearts. Welch also argues that suffering actually points us towards God – in two ways:
- We need God to endure our suffering.
- The life of God’s son, Jesus, helps us to understand our suffering.
Now silence that little voice in your head that might be saying, Okay, great, but I still have to believe in God to care about this perspective. I’m with you, friend. I’ve been there. But stick with me. Welch is simply saying that bad things can have a good purpose. And also that we shouldn’t expect life to be a bowl of cherries:
The cross says that life will not be easy. If Jesus serves, we will serve. If Jesus suffers, we, too, will experience hardships. . . Suffering is part of the path that leads to glory and beauty.
BUT. It seems to me that suffering doesn’t always do what it’s intended to do – it doesn’t always bring good, and it doesn’t always bring us closer to God. Continue reading
Filed under depression, god & faith
grace in the darkness 