The Light of a Perfect God

Well, this is that last Hearts at Home "No More Perfect Moms" blog hop of 2013. Together the Hearts at Home community has opened our hearts and our blogs to share the many ways in which we are flawed, challenged, and imperfect. We examined every area of life from marriage to housekeeping to friendships, and I have been humbled and inspired by the experience. This month, we end with our thoughts on the one area of life that truly is undeniably perfect: "Our One Perfect God."

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Reese made this Christmas tree at school on Tuesday. Each colored ornament is printed with a special representation to help kids identify with the true meaning of Christmas. The start at the top of tree reads, “Yellow represents God’s perfect light.”

As I clipped the tree to our refrigerator, I read those three words over and over.

God’s perfect light.

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by thoughts of the many ways in which His perfect light shines on my imperfect life...

It is a light of full acceptance. There are parts of me I dislike - personality traits, physical attributes, and habits I could do without. But my perfect God accepts me anyway. And I can rest easy knowing He doesn't care how much I weigh or how over-organized I am.

It is a light of complete forgiveness. There are choices I regret – moments of weakness and words of anger I wish I could take back. But my perfect God forgives me anyway. And because I know how that feels, I can free myself from resentment by forgiving others.

It is a light of unconditional love. There are times when I wander – challenges in my relationships and doubts in my faith that tempt me toward selfishness. But my perfect God loves me anyway. And He gave me a Savior and a life full of wonderful people to remind me what it means to love and be loved.

It is a light of profound blessings. There are days when I forget – daily hassles and feelings of entitlement that blind me to the blessing in each breath of air. But my perfect God gives me those blessings anyway. And He continues to bring me comfort, strength, and guidance even on my most undeserving days.

It is a light of unending gratitude. There are moments when I stop – breathtaking sunsets, hugs from my children, and the sight of my overflowing pantry that keep my life turned in toward His all-providing light. And the more I open the door to gratitude, the more easily I find it in the smallest moments.

It is a light of eternal life. There are reasons I believe - the written Word of the Lord and the birth of our Savior that give me hope, happiness, and peace for the future and beyond. And the more I focus my life on His light, the brighter it shines and the greater my peace.

This Christmas, celebrate the coming of God's perfect light in the form of Jesus. Let Him brighten your soul with a light that outshines all of your doubts, fears, sins, and regrets. And know that it's okay to be an imperfect person living an imperfect life in an imperfect world because you are fully accepted, completely forgiven, unconditionally loved, and profoundly blessed by the light of a perfect God.  

How to be a Perfect Friend

It’s time for another Hearts at Home Third Thursday Blog Hop! I’ve missed the past few months – not because I haven’t had any imperfections to share, but because not taking enough time to write (and do other things for myself) is one of them. The No More Perfect Moms theme continues today with No More Perfect Friends. Happy reading!

Allie clung to my leg, crying to be held. In the other room, Reese and L argued over a toy. It wasn’t even 8:00 am and I was already taking deep breaths as I prepared for a long day. Can I just have 5 minutes to scramble an egg?!

Scanning the room, I immediately wished I had taken the time to pick up the night before. Choosing sleep instead, I left the mess for morning. Bad idea. My daily accomplishments are so limited these days. Between my super high maintenance ten-month-old and the stark personality contrast between Reese and L (who I now babysit 30-40 hours a week), I’m struggling to find peace with my hindered ability to feel even the slightest bit productive throughout the day.

My thoughts immediately turned to other women I know. The mom with 8 kids. The mom who’s two kids are just 13 months apart. The mom with twins. The mom who runs marathons. The mom who cooks everything from scratch. The mom who runs a business. The mom who blogs every day. The mom whose house is always clean. How do they do it?!

Later that morning, my phone vibrated across the counter. I could tell by the rhythm it was a text message. I picked it up and swiped the screen. My friend sent me a picture of the main living space in her home. The room was covered with toys and clutter. The message read “I’m finding peace within today.”

I surveyed my own messy living room again, this time with a smile. I love having a friend who isn't afraid to share her own struggles in the name of connection, compassion, and friendship. I love having a friend who lets me in on her tough moments because she knows I'm on the other side of town having my own moments. I love having a friend who gets it, a friend who knows that I get it.

Three years ago, this friend was on my “how does she do it” list. That was before we grew into the kind of friendship that lets us show up for play dates in our pajamas and text each other pictures of our messes. That was before we could laugh about how many days had passed since our last shower or how challenging life with little ones can be. That was before the many “me too!” conversations that squashed any reason to wonder “how does she do it?”

I hope every mom finds a friend like that, a friend who helps you remember that no one has it all together. We all have different strengths, values, motivators, and priorities. We all have different kids with different schedules and temperaments. We all have different husbands and different sources of stress.

Yet, we’re all in the same boat. We all have the same amount of time in a day. We’re all struggling to fit everything in. We’re all trying to balance the needs of our husbands, our homes, our kids, and ourselves. And we’re all looking at each other and wondering, “How do you do it?”

The answer is really pretty simple - we don't have an answer. None of us does. We’re all just doing the best we can with what we have. No one has magical secret powers. There are no Supermoms (despite what those looking in on a snapshot of our lives might think). No one has anything special figured out.

But I do know one thing. You may not be the perfect woman and you may not be the perfect mom, but it's those imperfections that give you the ability to reach out and be the perfect friend.

You Are So Beautiful

Ok, ladies. Here we go with another Hearts at Home No More Perfect Moms Blog Hop. This month’s topic is “no more perfect bodies.” It's a personal one and since it's not something we openly talk about, sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one out there who has been in the place I'm about to describe. I guess I'll find out…

Before I had kids, I knew exactly what kind of mom I was going to be. No tantrums in this house. No unhealthy snacks for these kids. And as far as all that talk about moms who "let themselves go," that wouldn't be me. No, sir. I was going to get my butt on a treadmill and be rockin' my pre-baby figure in no time.

The part of me that now knows better finds this hilarious. Oh, little naive one. How's all that workin out for ya? So, I guess nobody told you that the muffin top is sit-up proof. And despite the claims of some infomercials, you might as well toss those C-cup bras because those days are OVER.

Well, that little naive one inside me doesn't see the humor. I have been mourning the loss of my pre-baby figure for months, despite the compliments of people who say, “Wow, you look exactly the same!” Trust me, I do not. Clothing hides a lot. If you saw me in the shower, you would understand. (Although I'd rather you just take my word for it).

Our honeymoon - June 2008

On more than one occasion, I have stood in front of my full-length mirror and cried about how I can no longer fill out my bras but I seem to have no problem over-filling my jeans. Then I feel vain, which makes me feel guilty, which makes everything worse (as guilt always does).

I used to be so beautiful.

I know that sounds so sad - I told you I was vain. Real beauty comes from the inside, right? I see it other people. My husband sees it in me. Why couldn’t I see it in myself?

After Reese was born, I made a pretty decent comeback (ahem, mothers of one, beware) and maybe I expected it to be that easy again. After two pregnancies and a combined 12 months of nursing (I had to quit after 3 months with Allie), I've been struggling to come to grips with where things have... ended up. And honestly, up until last weekend I thought that’s where this post might end. I didn’t know what else to say. I have a "mom body" now and I'm sad about it. The end.

But God leads us in such wonderful ways and during the Hearts at Home conference last Saturday, I wandered into a session on "dressing your mom body with confidence." I assumed it would be some frumpy lady preaching about modesty and I was always more of a “flaunt it if you’ve got it” kind of girl. The problem is that I no longer think I have IT and now I’m lost. And bitter. So there I was.

I sat quietly in the back of room. The speaker wasn’t frumpy at all. She was well-dressed and beautiful and just an awesome woman - like the kind of person who could have been talking about the mating habits of snails and I would have listened. As I sat there, I finally started to understand where my attitude had derailed. I discreetly pulled out my Kleenex as women around me probably wondered why I was getting emotional over patterned scarves and layered tank tops.

Then I really lost it when she said that our daughters will develop their sense of confidence based on our sense of confidence. How will we teach them to embrace their beauty if we can't fully embrace our own? What will they come to believe about themselves when people tell them how much they look like their mamas?

When I got home, I apologized to Matt for rolling my eyes when he tells me how good I look and for not taking his compliments to heart. Later that night, before I changed into my pajamas I stood in my full-length mirror and apologized to myself because my unwillingness to accept my imperfections blinded me to the perfect beauty that exists within them.

God gave me a body because He wanted me to respect it. Now I do. I am humbled by that. This body birthed two amazing children, children who wouldn’t exist otherwise. I am proud of that. This body isn’t damaged. It wears a badge of honor, a badge many women don’t get to wear. I am thankful for that.

February 2013

And as I stood there feeling humble and proud and thankful, I finally saw what my God, my husband, and my children already see.

I am still so beautiful.

That's why people tell me I look exactly the same - because to them I really do. That's why my husband tells me I'm beautiful every day - because to him I really am. And that's why I've had such a hard time believing that the beauty is still there - because I had heard it from everyone but myself.

Whatever imperfections you dwell on, remember that we all have things about our bodies that we’d like to change. It’s easy to assume that someone else has no complaints, but we don’t see each other in the shower or in the fitting room. All we see of others is what they choose to show us, and that’s rarely an accurate representation. If our clothes look unflattering, we change. When someone compliments our jeans, we don’t announce that we just went up a size. And when people say, “wow, you look exactly the same,” we just smile and say thank you, leaving them to think that we don’t stand in our mirrors and cry because we haven’t figured out how to embrace the perfect beauty in an imperfect body.

So love your muffin top and embrace your stretch marks. Wear your badge of honor with pride and gratitude. Remember that your self-image isn't just about you. It's also about the daughters who are developing their own sense of self every day based on what they see in you. As you continue to repeat these very important words to them, don't forget to also take a moment to stand in your own mirror and say - and believe - those same words for yourself.

You are so beautiful.

I'm also linking up with Bigger Picture Blogs today. We are celebrating March and the arrival of spring with posts that reflect the word "Rejuvenate." Join us here for more Bigger Picture Moments.

AND for more "no more perfect bodies" posts by other Hearts Bloggers, follow me to Jill Savage's blog.

Be a Champion of Imperfection

I haven't made my bed in weeks.

Sometimes I cringe when Reese says, “Mommy, you wanna go play?”

I have forgotten to strap one of my kids into her car seat before driving across town... three times. 

Did you know that I make myself feel guilty when those things happen? Think about some of your imperfections as a wife or a mother. Do you ever make yourself feel guilty about them? 

Have you ever found yourself judging another mom because of the way she disciplines her children or because she chooses to work (or not to work) or because her marriage fell apart?

Why?

Why are we so hard on ourselves? Why are we so hard on each other? 

Several weeks ago, we had some friends over for dinner. I had gone on a cleaning spree the day before (purely a coincidence), and I could see the looks on their faces when they walked into my immaculate home. I could have let them believe that this is how I really live. I could have let them leave wondering how I’m able to keep such a clean house with two small kids. I could have, but I didn’t. 

“This is the cleanest this place has been in six months,” I said proudly. (It’s fun to see the relief on another mom’s face when you admit that you’re actually quite the hot mess behind closed doors). 

If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you know that I don’t hold much back. I don’t do it because I want to air my dirty laundry on the internet or because I necessarily like having an electronic window in my living room. I do it because I believe whole-heartedly in authenticity, and I believe the areas of life where society tells us to be ashamed are the ones in which we should instead be banding together and lifting each other up. The world would be a better place if everyone could be themselves wholly and authentically without fear of judgment. 

This past weekend marked my fourth year in attendance at the Hearts at Home conference. This year's theme was No More Perfect Moms. (This is the reason for the “no more perfect…” posts in the recent Hearts at Home blog hops). Our founder and CEO, Jill Savage, wrote the book No More Perfect Moms in an effort to start a movement toward complete authenticity among the nationwide community of mothers. The  hope is for us moms to stop hiding our own flaws while judging others for theirs, to love our real life rather than longing for an ideal life, and to commit ourselves to living with guilt-free authenticity.

It's about time we make that change. It’s time for the masks of perfection to come off. It’s time we start celebrating our true authentic selves and raise a new generation of fearlessly authentic children.

Let people come over when the beds aren't made and the floors aren't swept. They'll stay anyway. Let them see the vulnerable parts of yourself and your life. They'll love you anyway. Be proud of the imperfections that make you unique. Be accepting of the mistakes that make you human. Give yourself and others the grace that comes from realizing that there are no perfect moms – just imperfect women with imperfect homes, imperfect husbands, and imperfect children.

You are not alone in any of your struggles, and if you believe that you are, it’s only because everyone around you is afraid to give those struggles a voice. Be that voice. Go out and share your story openly. Watch how many people say, “I’ve been there too,” and breathe a much-needed sigh of relief.

Breathe in the encouragement from someone who gets it.

Breathe out feelings of isolation.

Breathe in the realization that they love you anyway.

Breathe out the fear of judgment.

Breathe in acceptance.

Breathe out unnecessary guilt.

Then go forth and continue to be fearlessly, authentically, perfectly you.

** Become a champion of your own imperfections. Set yourself free from the guilt of your mistakes and abandon the urge to judge others for theirs. Share your commitment to authenticity with other moms and let’s build a new commUNITY of authentic moms raising authentic children. Pass this on to the moms in your circle and let them know that they are safe to be their true, beautiful, imperfect selves in your presence. **

Simple Ways to Stay Connected

This week, I'm joining the Hearts at Home blog hop again. On the third Thursday of every month, all of the Hearts bloggers share their thoughts on the same topic. With the start of the new school year upon us, the topic this month is: staying connected during the busy seasons of life.

I may not have kids in school yet, but as the wife of a high school administrator I am all too familiar with the back-to-school routine - shopping for new clothes, stocking up on lunch snacks, filling the calendar with the dates of every football game, tailgate, and parent-teacher night. After enjoying two amazing months of freedom, Matt is back at work and our quality time together has already taken a nose dive.

In this phase of our lives, finding time to connect with our toddler doesn't seem to be a problem. She is pretty good at making herself seen and heard. We spend our evenings sorting plastic shapes, playing with Little People animals, and reading about hungry caterpillars. Add in my daily routine of household chores and Matt's full workday, and we are both zapped of patience and energy by bedtime (hers, not ours). At my house, the back-to-school challenge isn't as much about nurturing our family bonds as much as it is about nurturing our marital ones. These are just a few of the practices we've adopted to help us stay connected through the busy times...

1. Take technology breaks. Now that we both have smart phones, I'm amazed at how easy it is to ignore each other when we're both checking sports stats and reading blog updates (guess who does which). We keep our attention on each other by turning the TV off and leaving phones out of reach during certain activities - eating our meals, drinking our morning coffee, and playing with Reese.

2. Go to bed together. We almost always go to bed at the same time. When one of us is ready for bed, the other follows suit. And if the other person isn't quite tired yet, well, let's just say this tip is also on my list for finding time for intimacy.

3. Share about your day. Every day when Matt gets home, I stop what I'm doing and we grab some cold drinks and sit on the patio or in the living room and share the details of our separate days. It makes us feel like we're still together even when we're apart.

4. Notice Mini-moments. Our quality time doesn't just come in the form of an occasional kidless date night or after bedtime hours. It comes instead in simple subtle moments - stopping everything to dance when our wedding song comes on the radio, stealing kisses while we take turns pushing Reese in her swing, holding hands in the car.

5. Take Sunday back. We rarely do anything on Sunday that isn't fun or relaxing. Weeds don't get pulled. Yards don't get mowed. Blogs don't get written. We also don't talk about issues that can wait until Monday. For one day every week, we are reunited with the blissful quiet of summer and the peace of a restful day.

Read more tips for staying connected by the other Hearts bloggers.

25 Ways Motherhood Changes Us Forever

It’s Third Thursday Blog Hop time again, which is just one of many reminders in my life that the months go by too fast. The topic for May is, “How has motherhood changed you?” Becoming a mom tops the list of life events that resulted in permanent changes to my identity, attitude, world views, and outlook on life. Today’s challenge is finding a way to sum up those changes while doing justice to the topic and keeping my long-standing commitment to brevity. So without any drawn out explanations (which I shouldn’t need anyway because I know you all get it), here is a randomly ordered list of 25 ways motherhood has changed me forever…

1.      I will never again underestimate my ability to do anything.

2.      I actually want to exercise, eat right, and recycle.

3.      I believe in fairies, magic, and Santa Claus again.

4.      I can’t watch news stories where children are the victims of crimes, tragedies, or terminal illnesses without shedding a tear.

5.      I no longer need an alarm clock.

6.      I found greater joy in simple moments.

7.      I learned that when moms say they would walk through fire for their kids, it’s absolutely true.

8.      I am less afraid to die and more afraid to die for different reasons.

9.      I am fearless where I was once afraid and afraid where I was once fearless.

10.  I can say, “look, honey, a butterfly!” with genuine fascination.

11.  I discovered that I am still beautiful without mascara, heels, and push-up bras.

12.  I finally choose comfort over style when picking out shoes.

13.  I discovered that mommy’s kisses really are magical.

14.  I look at those perfectly formed fingers and toes and I know there is a God.

15.  I care less about reaching my personal goals and more about helping my kids reach theirs.

16.  I have more patience than I ever thought possible.

17.  I don’t feel like a loser when I go to bed early on the weekends.

18.  I stopped judging other parents based on their children’s public tantrums.

19.  I’d rather shop for baby clothes and toys than new purses and shoes.

20.  I cherish every minute of my alone time.

21.  I learned that very few areas of parenting have true right answers and trying to find them will drive you crazy.

22.  I appreciate simple things like showers and hot meals.

23.  I discovered that life really is too short and time really does go too fast.

24.  I lost friends I didn’t really need and reconnected with ones I never should have lost.

25. I finally understand the concept of unconditional love.  

Amazing Love

After a short hiatus surrounding our move, I finally joined back up with the Hearts at Home Third Thursday Blog Hop. The topic for March is, “if you could have one super power to help you in your role as a mother, what would it be?” Just one, huh? I can think of quite a few things that would make my life easier – like a couple extra hands to help me get everything to the car in one trip, or enough brain power to keep me from forgetting at least one essential item on every outing. Maybe I’d like an endless supply of energy so I never have to choose between late-night relaxation and early morning workouts. Or what about the ability to make things appear out of thin air? I always thought that would be pretty awesome. Oh, we’re out of cheese? No problem. Poof! Maybe I’d like to have a clone – someone to work out while I sleep or to cook while I clean or to sing Old McDonald’s farm (again!) while I scream into a pillow. 


As I went through the list of possibilities, I started to (in typical Lisa fashion) over-analyze each one as if I would actually walk away from this blog post with my chosen power. Like if I could make anything appear, would that be the same as stealing? Wouldn’t I inevitably become greedy? What if I actually had extra arms? That would be weird. Where would I buy shirts? And a clone? Let’s not even go there. Would Matt love us both? (I said, let’s not go there). Maybe all the super powers that seem so great in our imaginations would actually make our lives more complicated in the long run. Maybe it’s better to accept the occasional forgetfulness, to leave a dirty toilet here and there, and to just take stuff to the car in two trips. Better yet, maybe instead of wishing for unrealistic super powers I’ll never have, I should focus instead on the one I’ve already been granted.


The chorus of my all-time favorite Christian song goes, “Amazing love, how can it be / That you my king would die for me?” The song ponders the great mystery of Christ’s love and the difficulty we might sometimes face in wrapping our minds around the possibility that He would suffer and die to give life to each of us.


The Lord’s unending, unconditional, all-powerful love seems to be a super power beyond comprehension… unless you have children. Not all parents have it – rather, not all parents recognize and accept it as a gift they possess. Here’s how you know if you do: if you feel immeasurable pain when your children suffer; if you are enveloped by pure terror when they disappear from your sight for even a second; if your heart soars with joy every time they smile; if you can sleep in peace knowing they are happy, healthy, and safe; if you know that you would go to the ends of the earth to love, support, protect, and comfort them; and if you would not think twice about giving your life in exchange for theirs, then God has granted you this gift of amazing love. Of course, our human version of amazing love represents only a fraction of God’s true divine love, but it does help us understand on the tiniest level why Jesus might have been willing to die for His people.


I was reminded of the depths of a mother’s love just last week after an outbreak of tornadoes destroyed parts of the Midwest. A mother of two sat huddled in the basement of her Indiana home with her children wrapped in a blanket underneath her. Using her body as a shield to protect them, she listened as her home crumbled around her. Debris pummeled her body from every angle, and she prepared herself to die so her children could live.


Both children emerged from the rubble without a scratch, and thankfully, their mother survived as well although she lost parts of both legs. As I followed this story in the news, it always brought me to tears to think that this mother had the strength and courage to put herself in between her children and the forces of nature. Amazing love, how can it be? And yet, I have that love. I have that ability. I could, and would, do the exact same thing for my child without skipping a beat. If that isn’t a super power, I don’t know what is.

Your Day Off is Calling

No matter how good we are at our jobs, we all need a day off now and then. I loved my old job, but I still always looked forward to weekends, holidays, and vacations. Those breaks provided much needed time to nurture myself and my personal relationships and to remind me that my work is not the end all, be all of my existence. After a nice relaxing break, I would eagerly return to the job I loved with renewed energy and fresh ideas.

The single hardest thing about being a mother is the complete absence of these breaks. We don’t get evenings, weekends, sick days, vacation days, or holidays off from our mothering duties. We are on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week for our children. They are our whole world, and our love for them envelopes our whole heart. Even on days when I am not physically with Reese, my heart never leaves her. I wonder if she needs me, if she knows I’m coming back, or if something will happen to her in my absence. No matter where I go, my heart is always at home.

Although it’s wonderful most of the time, a job that offers no breaks eventually leads to burnout. Even the best moms get burnt out on the constant demands of life with children. We start to wonder if we’re the only ones struggling with the division of labor in our homes, the decline of intimacy in our marriages, or the behavior of our children. We see other moms who appear to be doing everything well and we feel inadequate, incompetent, and out of control. We view our imperfections as major flaws and our challenges as insurmountable weaknesses. We lose the ability to see the forest through the trees.

That’s why we need to find other ways to replenish our strength and restore our energy. We need a day that lets us celebrate the honorable role we play in the lives of our spouses and children. We need to surround ourselves with women who can validate our concerns, share our struggles, and rejoice in the amazing journey that we so often take for granted. We need to be reminded that our imperfections are normal, our bodies are beautiful, and our work is important. We need an experience that inspires us to become our best selves and to believe that our best is enough.

Registration is currently open for the annual Hearts at Home conference on March 16 & 17, 2012 at Illinois State University. It is a weekend full of celebration for the lives we lead and praise for the Lord who provides those lives for us. You will laugh, cry, and learn more than you ever thought possible in one single day. You will come away with the true belief that the sky really is the limit when it comes to all that you want for yourself, your marriage, and your children. You will reconnect with your faith, strengthen your commitment to your spouse, and deepen your love for your children and for yourself as their mother. If your heart is at home, this is your weekend. Your day off is calling.  

Register today at www.heartsathome.org.  

She Gets That From Me

It’s time again for the Hearts at Home Third Thursday Blog Hop. The topic for July is “How are you like your mom? How are you different?” I love that they included "how are you different?" in this prompt because it's so easy to get swept up in the "like mother, like daughter" mentality (or "like father, like son," if you prefer) and the idea that our kids should be just like us; that they should want to be like us. We're doing it with Reese already when we talk about who she looks like; who she acts like; and the features, talents, and personality traits we hope she gets from one or both of us. As a parent, there's just something special about those moments of pride that come from seeing yourself in your kid and thinking, "she gets that from me." Of course, I want Reese to be like me in some ways, but not so much that I forget that she also deserves to just be Reese.

When I think about how my mom and I are alike, I do get a lot from her. There are the simple similarities like our preferences for music, movies, books, and food. Then there are deeper similarities like the fact that we are both overly emotional and the tears come all too easily whether we’re feeling proud, happy, sad, or angry. We’re both a little dramatic (hey, at least we admit it), and we tend to assume the worst before we know the full extent of a situation. We’re also very independent, and we both have a hard time asking for help. (And if you read my last post, you're probably not surprised). We both love organizing things and any opportunity to make a list is an exciting moment for us. We have a similar sense of humor and the ability to finish each others' sentences, know each others' thoughts, and predict each others' reactions.   

Ok, so we are a lot alike, but we are different too. We have different opinions on a lot of political, social, and even some religious issues. We have different financial views. My mom is definitely not a control freak (I don’t really know where I get that), and she’s much more relaxed about her schedule than I am. We approach situations differently, solve problems differently, and address conflicts differently. And even though I grew to be different from her in some ways and even though I disagree with her on some major issues, she never said, "don't ever do this" or "don't be like that" or "I raised you to be this way."  I love that about my mom. She validates my opinions, supports my choices, and encourages my dreams, even if they are different from her own. She supported me when I thought I wanted to work, and she supported me when I decided to stay home. That's why I love our differences, and I love that we are open about them. Each time we disagree I am reminded that I am free to be me and that my individuality is respected. 

It’s a beautiful accomplishment for a mother to build that kind of relationship with her daughter. My relationship with my mom has a foundation of love, support, and encouragement; a foundation that makes me want to embrace our similarities but also allows me to exercise my individuality. I’m so glad that my mom encouraged me to find my own unique identity, but I’m also glad that we enjoy so many of the same things and can relate to each other in so many ways. I hope I’m able to find a good balance between raising Reese to be like me and raising her to be like herself. I hope we have enough in common to enjoy the kind of fun-filled friendship that I share with my mom. But I also hope she knows that she doesn’t have to be like me to be loved by me; that she can be a stay-at-home mom or a doctor or a tattoo artist or a circus acrobat. No matter who she grows up to be, I have to remember that if I instill that freedom in her and if I embrace her individuality, then whether we are completely alike, completely different, or some beautiful combination of both, I'll still be able to say, "she gets that from me."

This Too Shall Pass

It's time for the Third Thursday Blog Hop! For those who missed last month's edition (May 19), the blog hop is a monthly opportunity for all of the Hearts at Home bloggers to write about the same topic. Although we all share different perspectives, we're all Christian moms hoping to support, encourage, and inspire other moms through every stage of motherhood. At the bottom of this post, you will find links to the pages of all the other bloggers.  The topic for June is "if you could go back in time and tell your teenage self one thing, what would you say?"

 When I first started thinking about what to write for this post, I made a mental  list of things I would warn myself about, things I would tell myself to do differently, and things I would tell myself not to do at all. The longer I thought about it, the longer the list grew. By the time I navigated my way from ages 13 to 19, I left quite a wake of mistakes - including some people I shouldn’t have dated, some drinks I shouldn’t have taken, and some choices I shouldn’t have made. I wish I had a little more respect for my body and a lot more respect for my parents. I wish I had spent more energy enjoying good times than dwelling on bad times, and I wish I believed in the saying, “this too shall pass.” I wish I knew that when I looked back, I would barely remember any of the incidents that seemed like the end of the world and that I would forget a lot of the memories I promised myself I would cherish forever. The bottom line for me (and probably lots of other people) is: if I knew then what I know now, my teen years would look very different.

However, I don’t want my teenage self to know any of that stuff. I am who I am because of my past, and I know now what I know now because of what I didn’t know then. All of the elements of my present life are directly linked to events, choices, and people in my past; and to change any of those things would mean changing some aspect of the life I have today. I believe that God gave me certain challenges for a reason beyond what my teenage mind could comprehend. I believe that through those challenges, He led me to the right major, the right career, the right husband, and the right future. And I believe that alone justifies my refusal to live with regrets.  

But if I truly could go back, there is something I might say. For me, the toughest part of my adolescence was the early years, from ages 10-14, when I endured daily relentless teasing about my teeth. (Click the picture for a larger image as the small one gives no justice to the reason). Although the problem was only temporary, the damage done in those 4 years had a devastating effect on my self-image. I would be well into my twenties before I finally made my peace with the chain of events that unfolded over the rest of my adolescent years as a result of my desperate need to feel accepted by others and my inability to fully accept myself. Although I don't want to issue any warnings or make any changes, I do want to offer my 13-year-old self some comfort in the present and some hope for a better future. As I write this, I am creating a mental image of what such a revelation might look like...

I look inside myself and see the 13-year-old version of me crying on the school bus after yet another long day of taunting, the words "snaggle-tooth" and "can opener" still ringing in my ears. I stare out the window and wonder if I will ever believe that I am beautiful. As I pretend to dig to the bottom of my backpack to hide my tear-stained face, I find a mysterious note under my books. Confused, I pull it out and open it up. The handwriting looks oddly like a more developed version of my own cursive scribble… 

If I told you where this came from, you would never believe me, but I need you to know that I understand what you’re going through.  I'm not going to lie, this will be a tough year for you, but it won’t always be this bad. It may be hard to see it now, but you will come out on the other side. “This too shall pass.” You don’t believe it, but it is true. And even though you'll be ok, you’ll also have a lot of ups and downs over the next few years. You’ll face some challenging decisions, and you'll learn a lot of things the hard way. You will need to brace yourself for some loss and some pain and some really tough times. But you’ll also laugh a lot, and love a lot, and learn a lot. And someday when someone will ask you if you would want to go back and change anything. You will think about it for only a moment and then you’ll say no because your husband is wonderful, your family is wonderful, your life is wonderful, and yes, you do believe that you are beautiful.

I read it once and then I read it again. Then I fold it up and put it back in my bag but when I look for it later, it's already gone. For the rest of the day, I mentally repeat the parts I can remember, and even though I don't feel any better right now, I take comfort because I believe that someday I will. 

That's it. That's all I would want myself to know - that every mistake is worth the lesson learned and every challenge is worth the character it builds. When I face difficult times as an adult, I still look back on those years to remind myself that no matter how tough a struggle seems to be, I can overcome it, I will be better for having faced it, and "this too shall pass."

Kitchen Magician

I recently became a blogger for Hearts at Home, an organization that supports moms through every stage of motherhood. (It is through this organization that I got inspired to stay home despite my financial fears and rediscovered my passion for writing). So here's how this works: on the third Thursday of each month, all of the Hearts at Home bloggers will blog about the same topic. Each of our blogs are linked to each other so every month you can read a number of different perspectives on the issue. The topic for May is "share a favorite homemade dish recipe." And here goes...

I always thought of my  mom as a magician - whether she was making a meal, healing a wound, even knowing when I was lying, everything seemed like magic. I was especially impressed when she cooked. It didn't matter if it was a Thanksgiving turkey or a pot of Spanish rice, I always wondered how she knew what to put in it or how she could tell it was done. I rarely saw my mom use recipes and she made everything from scratch. I was always in awe of her ability to make something delicious from a pile of ingredients. To me, cooking was a mystical process that required great talent, like painting or playing an instrument. So when Matt and I decided that I would stay home, I became the official family head chef and I wondered how I would manage without knowing all the tricks of the trade.


As a gift, my mom gave me a cookbook she filled with recipes I enjoyed as a kid. (Ya know how once you learn all the ins and outs of something, it becomes completely de-mystified - like when you learn the truth about Santa Claus or see how a magic trick is done? If you don't know what I'm talking about, watch an episode of "How It's Made" on The Science Channel. Those people de-mystify everything from toothbrushes to calculators). Well, that's what happened to me when I learned to cook. As I flipped through my new book, I couldn't believe how easy it was to make some of my favorite meals. Some things required just a handful of ingredients! I looked at some of my favorites: chicken soup, stuffed peppers, spaghetti sauce (the best spaghetti sauce ever, might I add), and I thought, "That's it? That's all there is to it?" And just like that, the magic was gone.

Only it wasn't really gone. I just don't see it anymore because I'm in on all the secrets. And I learned that good food doesn't always have be complicated. Now my family can be just as mystified with my food as I always was with my mom's. Next week marks one year in my new position as a stay-at-home-mom and official magician of my kitchen. So in honor of my anniversary, I would like to de-mystify one of my childhood favorites: stuffed green peppers. Enjoy!

1. Start with 4-8 green peppers (it depends a lot on the size). Cut the tops off and clean out the insides.

2. Take 2 pounds of ground beef (raw) and mix in 3/4 cup ketchup, 3/4 cup grape jelly, 2 eggs, and 1 cup of instant rice (uncooked). You pretty much have to mix it with your hands, so if this is a problem for you, I suggest you stick with Hamburger Helper meals.

3. Fill each pepper with the meat mixture (really cram it in there).

4. Put the peppers in a pot/pan and pour in enough tomato juice to cover them at least most of the way (some people find tomato juice to be too thin. You can mix it with canned tomato sauce to thicken it up). There are several ways to cook them: (1) In a large pot, cover and simmer 45 min to 1 hour. (2) In a roasting pan, cover and bake at 350 for 45 min to 1 hour. (3) I've never used a slow cooker to make this recipe but I know you can. Just guess on the time. It's hard to mess stuff up in a crock pot.

5. Serve and enjoy!