Be still

Dear 2020:

Posted on January 1, 2021 by Be still Imbalancing act

It’s a little bit strange to wake up today without you. You’ve been the brunt of the joke, the one to blame, the thief of normalcy, and to some, the devil himself. Your time ticked by with more emphasis, more sting, more noise and more silence than any year in my lifetime, and now with the drop of a ball and the turning of the clock you are gone. You are gone and I miss you a little.

I wasn’t expecting to miss you (you were an absolute prick most of the time), but I do. I miss you because you were transformative. Somewhere between your first and your last day you changed us. You changed us all in some way or another. Some of us changed over and over again under your watch – more than we wanted to, not as much as we should have, not as much as we still will. Some of us didn’t want the change, didn’t accept it, didn’t know how much we needed it. 

I needed it. 

I know that today you’ll have doors slammed in your face. You’ll be kicked out, lit on fire, and surely face crowds of middle fingers (don’t act like you don’t deserve those – you hurt people, bad). But 2020, you will always have a place here in my mind, and with all of my might I will never stop trying to build on all the things you have taught me. 

You taught me to feel. Before you, 2020, I thought I was sensitive. I thought I was empathetic, grounded, and emotionally mature (ok no, but usually I at least had the ability to control it). You ripped away the covers like a tired mama who’s finally had enough and made me look underneath. You took the activities, the tasks, the busyness that I had piled so…neatly?…on my days and man was that stuff covering up some dirt. I spent a lot of the year digging through that dirt and found the wildest mix of hidden treasures and disasters and felt every one of them so hard. You sent me to the bathroom floor more than once without even clearly showing me why, and every time I stood up again I felt the change. I needed to feel it all – yes to the treasures, YES to the disasters. You can’t fix what you can’t feel. 

You taught me to keep learning. I swore years ago that the day we realize we know absolutely nothing instead of everything is the day we grow up. You made me take that back. I’m now pretty confident that we never really grow up. We never really know nothing, we just know what we know until we make an effort to learn more. Before you came along, I think I’d forgotten that I could and should always seek more, not because someone told me to, but because not seeking when you have the means is worse than not having the means. Maybe I was drowning in the stuff above the covers or maybe I was floating along in privilege – likely both – but before you, I’d lost the hunger. You made me feel starved. I owe you big for that one.  

You taught me about people. Whew, Lord knows this one was a beast. There’s something about pulling people physically apart from one another that makes us all feel like we have to yell and scream to be heard. You showed us sides of each other that we didn’t want to believe were there, sides that were ugly, sides that felt unforgivable, sides that told us it was time to re-evaluate, separate, divide. You made me cover my eyes and ears just to keep loving. You made it all so SO hard. 

But you also made it glorious. Behind the yelling you revealed passion, you showed the best of intentions, unmatched determination, perseverance, and grace. You pushed my empathy to the limit, beat it to a pulp, then lovingly patched it, one lesson and conversation and prayer at a time. You gave me the capacity to consider other peoples’ capacity, and the fact that it might not match my own today, tomorrow, or next week. You taught me that none of us, not one of us on this earth, have it all figured out, and control has never been ours to own. You took the makeup along with the covers and put all of our scars and wrinkles and crazy and beauty on display. [About that: I’m taking back lipstick ASAP, but I’m leaving the scars and wrinkles. We’ve earned those.]

All lessons and laughs and tears aside, on the top of my BEST OF 2020 list are the people. The obvious heroes in healthcare, education, churches, food service, delivery, child care, leadership, storytelling, and the neighbors helping neighbors should be honored forevermore. But I will also thank God for the rest of my days for the friend who nudged me to take a chance over Chinese takeout in a dark parking lot; the strangers who gave me a safe space to talk the big feelings out over Zoom; the mentors and colleagues who showed vulnerability without reserve or apology; the friend who sent at least one ridiculous video or meme a day; and the family that navigated with me when to speak up, when to shut up, and when to just say “I love you.” I do SO love you. I love my lifelong people, my new people, and lots of people I’ve never even met bigger and harder than I have ever loved them before, and 2020 taught me how to do that. 

2020, I know you’ve got to go. I want you to know that you can bite me, and also I owe you forever. I hate you. I love you. Get out, but for goodness sake, don’t disappear. Let us never forget the opportunities you gave us. And oh my word pretty please, tell your baby sister to chill. Thanks. <3

A letter to my kids on the first day of school

Posted on August 17, 2020 by Be still Family Mama stuff

Dear Girls,

You’ve got a big day today. This would have been a big day no matter what – one of you blasting into a new year of school like a pro and one of you stepping into a whole new world as a kindergartner. That alone would have been big for our family. 

If I’m honest, I’ve been dreading this day for a long time. The day any parent sends their littlest love off to school for the first time is a signal, marking the end of squishy cheeks and sweet baby smells, and sling-shotting you into some time warp where we come out the other side stunned and emotional and find ourselves sending you off to college, off to work, or down some aisle. That part is freaky, but I know it can happen. I’ve met the moms who came before me and baby, I ain’t ready. 

It’s also the day that we get most excited and proud and dreamy about all the friends you are about to make, the things you are about to learn, and how downright adorable you are in your first-day-of-school digs. You are never more perfect or precious in our eyes than when we are about to witness you do something new and we are forced to loosen our grip. Yeesh. You. Are. SO. Precious. 

Except this day, this school year, this…time…will be different. It will be exciting and strange and bittersweet just like it should be, but it will also be historic. You, my loves, are about to make history.

Today, you become the kids that did it. You become the kids that experienced education and childhood like no other kids before you. You will be the experiment, the study, the proof, and the lesson for all the kids behind you. And us parents, we will become the first that had to figure out how to let you do that. Just between you and me, not one of us knows exactly what we’re doing here.

While so much is uncertain about tomorrow and every day after that, there are a few things I do know, and I want you to carry these little nuggets with you. Listen hard. It’s important.

#1 – Your teachers are real life superheroes. Most people have known this for years – that teachers literally have the ability to change the trajectory of a life – but we’ve never ever had to acknowledge that they also have a major hand in making the rest of the world go ‘round. If COVID-19 is Thanos, they are the Avengers, fighting the most obvious villain of our time while also working to keep the usual bad guys at bay – vast inequity, threats to safety, food insecurity, neglect and abuse, bullying, anxiety, and well, anything else that could prevent a child from having a bright future. 

They didn’t sign up for what’s about to go down and they don’t feel completely prepared. They will face brand new challenges this year, they’ll make some mistakes, they will be judged and criticized by people who don’t know the half of their burden, but they will be there. They will be there for you, for me, for your classmates, and for each other.

There is no way to train for a time like this (and if there were, there wasn’t time), but here they are, standing strong and resilient and smart and fun. They’re wingin’ it like the rest of us, only they have the superpower to still make you feel safe and loved and excited about learning. They’ll be the ones giving you memories of silly songs and great stories and genuine encouragement in the middle of a pandemic. THEY will also be making history.

They are the real deal, and if I could, I’d send them all on a year-long vacation with all the happiness and relaxation they could handle because they undoubtedly deserve it – so does everyone else in charge of anything right now. Do what they say, and smile with your eyes when they can’t see your mouth behind that mask. Grin like you mean it when they can’t hear your giggles from your muted computer microphone – your smiles and laughter are what gives them their superpower. 

#2 – Being kind is more important than being smart. This is one thing that I hope we’ve already taught you. Nevertheless, you are my kids and it might be in your blood to cry if you don’t get a perfect grade. Stop that. Perfection was a myth before this mess, and it’s definitely not a real thing now. I expect you to do your very best work always, but to be clear on where to find success in school and in life, it’s in the way you treat the people around you, AND in the way you treat yourself. 

Some of the kids in your school missed some meals this summer. Some of their parents lost their jobs, and others worked themselves silly. Some of your classmates can hardly breathe in that mask. Some don’t have anyone at home to help if their internet quits working and some don’t have the internet at all. Some of your friends are anxious and sad and afraid because all they’ve heard since March is how awful this year is going to be. Some just need to get out of the house. Remember that we never ever know what someone else is going through, and when you have the chance, always always be kind. 

Showing kindness kid-style while practicing social distancing might seem a little tricky at first. You can’t actually sit next to each other, hugs aren’t allowed, and even sharing is off the table. I know you though, and I know that you will find new ways to help each other through this crazy reality. Pay attention to the kids in your class. Say good morning to each other. Come up with secret hand signals. Give each other compliments. Learn how to air-five, or better yet, wink! I can’t wait for the day when you and your friends get to tackle each other to the ground in a giant group bear hug, but I also can’t wait to see what you come up with in 2020. Kind kids are the coolest. 

#3 – We are going to make it at home. If the spring was any indication of what this coming school year could be, I’m at least thankful that we had it, learned a few things, and got the heck out of there fast. I was SO proud of the way you handled it when you suddenly had to sit next to me in class, both of us desperately trying to make sense of our web calls and homework and dining room table desk space at the same time. I am NOT proud of that one day I truly cracked, when you caught me in the bathroom sobbing and I offered you the chance to try out a cuss word “because sometimes us girls just have to sit on the side of the bathtub and say S%#@!” That was not my finest moment as a mom, but girlfriends, it was real. 

Though nothing will ever compete with how much you love being in school and with your friends, these last few months have been as magical as they have been maddening. I will never forget the joy of getting our together-time back, the relief of slowing down, and the blessing of staying at home as a family. We have learned so much from this beautiful chaotic awful disaster already, and I promise you now that we will never stop learning. 

We might not have a flawless strategy for what each school day will look like. We might find out that what we thought would work for our family doesn’t work at all. We might say some more ugly words in the bathroom – NO WE WILL NOT – but we might still cry a little from time to time. However it goes it’s ok, we are in this, we are committed to each other, we will adapt and grow and stay positive, and in the end we’ll make it I swear. You can count it as truth just like I do because Jesus and Jon Bon Jovi said so. 

#4 – Finally, just know this is all part of The Plan. Never in a million years would I have predicted this for you. You were supposed to follow the schedule, check the boxes, do all the things that we imagined you’d do. But of all the lessons that 2020 has shoved in front of us so far, the one about all the ways we are NOT in control is my favorite. 

We can write our plans on sticky notes or even in the sky, but our plans are only as good as what our earthly minds know. The truth is that WE don’t have the ability to really know ANYTHING about what’s next, but we know who does, and I can guarantee that His plans are far greater than anything we thought to put on our kitchen calendar. 

Let’s open our hearts to the inconveniences and our eyes to our privilege. Let’s start our day in prayer and thanksgiving and not exhaustion and defeat. Let’s learn to lean on God again instead of ourselves, and then let’s see where this thing goes. 

And if all this is too much to take in on your first day of school (especially since one of you can’t actually read yet), I’ll wake you and squeeze you and feed you and kiss you and together we’ll tackle the first day of your grandchildrens’ history books, one lesson at a time. 

Have fun. Be good. I love you most. 

Mama

How to work from home like a boss: A guide for newbies

Posted on March 25, 2020 by 'Round here Be still Imbalancing act Work Life

It’s a new day on planet Crazyville for all of God’s creatures, and for the traditional working world, every hour seems to present a brand new challenge. As COVID-19 continues to make historical strides worldwide, it’s not just the technologically advanced or the millenial-infused corporate cool kids who will be working remotely. 

Soon (like, TODAY y’all) any and every small business and nonprofit and office of more than…well…ONE in America that possibly can, are encouraged to move to some form of temporary teleworking model. Whether that terrifies or excites you I can promise two things if you’re new to this type of gig – it’s not as great as it sounds, and it’s not as bad either.

While we all adjust to the change and uncertainty of it all, here are a few tips to help you wrap your head around the art of working from home without losing your mind…or your job.

Get crystal-clear on expectations. If you and/or your supervisor are new to an out-of-office working model, it’s absolutely imperative that you both understand the rules up front. Nobody knows the rules? Make some up together! Talk through things like when you’re expected to be available by phone and email. Should you be “at work” from 9-5 with an hour for lunch, or should you track your time and work whenever as long as you meet your deadlines?

Talk through other things too like: whether or not you’ll use your personal cell phone for business calls, which uses are appropriate for your business laptop, whether or not you should be on social media during office hours, how your teammates prefer to communicate, and how often you’ll be expected to check in. Believe, the more you tackle up front, the less awkward things will be later. Save the oops-I-didn’t-know’s for something more important. 

Find a space that works for work. If this is truly a temporary mandate for you, I’m not suggesting you transform your spare bedroom into a full-blown office space (though I do love a creative workspace away from work). At minimum, you will need a place to go that’s conducive to productivity. Before you decide where that should be, let me tell you where it’s NOT:

On the couch. You’re not fooling anybody if you’re “working” from the comfort of the same place you nap/Netflix/chill. I don’t claim to know a thing about science, but people, it’s science. I’ve propped my laptop on a fluffy pillow in my lap countless times thinking I was about to make strides only to find myself drooling on the keyboard and dreaming of vacation. Get comfortable, but not that kind of comfortable. Bonus reason not to choose the couch- it’s hell on your back!

In the bedroom. Unless you’re hiding from your roommate/partner/kids for an hour or unless you have a neat little desk beside your bed, this one is just like the couch. You might be able to knock out a short conference call behind the closed door sitting criss-cross-applesauce where you sleep, but you’re setting yourself up for more of…well, less, if you attempt to clock in here.

Near the tv. If your job requires less than 1% concentration, you’re totally fine here. Go for it. But if you (or your boss) expect true productivity, turn off the tube and know that working-while-watching-Ellen makes you as ineffective as that Facebook tab you hide every time your coworker walks by. Just because you won’t get caught doesn’t mean you should do it.

I’ve found that if you don’t have a desk, but you do have a dining room table, breakfast nook, or bar, a good-enough space can be born. I prefer a room with windows – just don’t choose the seat right next to it if you don’t want to battle a glare on your screen and lose your mojo. Wherever you are, give yourself room to spread out, and if you can, leave it there – don’t pack it up and make yourself have to pull it out again. When you’re home, you should still feel home, but when you’re in THAT spot friend, you’re at work. Welcome to your zone.

Limit distractions. Think you’re easily distracted at the office? [Bwah HA-HA!] Wait until you try to distinguish your home to-do’s from your work-from-home to-do’s. It can be tricky figuring out how to block the focus-stealing culprits, but if you pay attention on the first day, you’ll know exactly what they are.

Put your phone facedown. You’ll likely need your phone close by if you’re working remotely, but if you’re like most of us these days, you’ll also need to create some boundaries to keep you from picking it up out of habit. Whatever your vice – Instagram, TikTok, or texting – it will be easier to drift into a screen time abyss in the comfort of your own home. No one is there to hold you accountable for your time, and a text about dinner can lead to a quick recipe search on Pinterest, which can lead you halfway through your online grocery order in the Food Lion To Go app, which leads to you suddenly using 15 minutes of your workday ineffectively. DO all those things for sure, but at a designated time like a lunch or mid-afternoon break.

Watch your trips to the kitchen. (And all the work-from-home veterans just nodded in unison.) In the real office, you might grab a coffee first thing, a yogurt mid-morning, and heat up your lunch while you chat with a coworker. At home if you’re not careful, you’ll EITHER eat a sleeve of Oreo’s before breakfast, last night’s pizza during your webinar, then a shame-snack around 2 p.m., OR drink three cups of coffee and work yourself into a hunger headache because there’s no one there to remind you to fuel up and hydrate. Plan for good eating habits as if you were going somewhere for the day. Don’t just rely on your whims, or M&M’s.

via GIPHY

Create a visual work plan. Unless you’re a master agent of organization, a random stack of papers won’t get you through this one. At home, that stack can sit for days. Who even knows what’s in it? Take some time in the first week (and every week) to dig through your STUFF and find a prominent place to list your priorities. If calendar alerts work for you, put it all in there. Make yourself appointments to complete important tasks and don’t do ANYTHING but THAT during the time you chose. If you’re a list-maker instead, put your list in a place that you can’t miss, and don’t forget to add deadlines!

Take a shower. People, this is a big one. One of the greatest perks of working from home is that some days, you can very easily go from one set of pajamas to the next without judgement. We’ve all done it, and folks, it can be so awesome. Email + messy bun, report + sweatpants, even video conference + a little mascara and a nice button-up on top of your “Mama needs wine” nightgown – it’s all a little invigorating. Do it now and then, no one cares!

The trick here is not to let it become a habit. If you can be 100% productive in your pj’s, more power to you, but go too many days without fresh clothes and clean hair and you’ll start to lose your luster in more ways than one. Go ahead, enjoy your at-home comfy coffee while you plan your day first thing, but get yourself together (before lunch!) if you want to bring the heat to the home work.

Enjoy the perks. Speaking of perks, there can be SO many perks! My favorite thing about working from home is the ability to multitask the simple stuff. Do a load of laundry and take back the part of your Saturday you usually spend rewashing the towels you forgot on Wednesday night. Pick a tiny project that you’d never get to on the regular (junk drawer, medicine cabinet, freezer, etc.) and tackle it during your webinar. Start dinner or exercise during lunch and get to ENJOY a little more of your evening. Sure, you’re at work when you’re in your zone, but taking back your travel time alone can lend itself to a little more balance later. Use it!

More favorite things to add to your work-alone-zone: music, your favorite candle, snacks, and anything else that helps you focus but annoys the crap out of your co-workers. 

Communicate what this means to your people. THIS. THIS is the real ticket. If you’re new to working from home, then most certainly, your family members or housemates are too. Remember those boundaries you set with your boss? They’ll be a nightmare to follow if you don’t communicate them with the people around you.

If you have a set schedule, then your husband/girlfriend/daughter/roommate/dog needs to understand what that looks like. Are you sort-of available or do you want them to pretend you’re invisible during working hours? Say it. Is it ok for them to join you at the dining room table to quietly do homework? Invite them, but set the rules. Does your mom think you’re sitting by the phone and available to chat all day now? Let her know you’re excited to catch up with her, but you’ll have more time after work. Do you need the dog to be occupied during your 10 a.m. call? Ask for help or take the call away from the crate. (And give him a treat for his patience!)

Whether you love it or not, your at-home people are now part of your work team. Remember that NO work OR home-work team is perfect, but make them feel included with all the communication up front, and hopefully, no one will get hurt…UNLESS you have to…

Figure it all out with the kids at home. I’m mostly talking to you now, Mama. (You too, Dad.) These are new, hard, crazy crazy times. I could spend a thousand more words talking about how to work from home with kids. I could talk about navigating homeschool, nap times, lunches, arguments, tears, interruptions, laughter, spilled drinks, screen time, deadlines, and ALL the other things that THIS factor brings to the remote-working world.

Instead, I’ll say this. Do the best you can. Try not to yell. Take breaks just to cuddle or tickle or laugh. Be sure your actual work team understands your reality. Ask for help when you need it. And most importantly, give yourself (and your children) some grace. This. Is. Hard. It’s new, it’s wild, it’s amazing, and really and truly, it’s all going to be ok. 

Hang in. Have fun. Do work. And say your prayers. You can sit next to me on the struggle bus. Welcome home! 🙂

On scaling the Mountain of Unimportant Things

Posted on October 30, 2019 by Be still Imbalancing act

I remember reading those books as a teenager about how to not sweat the small stuff. Before Rachel Hollis was reminding us all to wash our face, Richard Carlson was running the motivational show in the 90’s, showing up in all of our grandmas’ bathrooms in paperback, telling us to JUST CHILL because really, it’s all small stuff. I liked ol’ Richard. That guy had some sense.

Even so, I’ve been stumbling on the Mountain of Unimportant Things forever and ever. Every time I trip on that mountain I drop something – usually time, money, sleep, or general happiness. I’ve stumbled over little pebbles on the mountain like burnt pancakes, paint colors, the Christmas card picture, and how my butt looks in those pants. Other times it looked more like a boulder – a missed self-induced deadline, a faulty effort to make someone happy, or the thought of what so-and-so might think. You know, small stuff.

There are certain momentous occasions in life too that make that mountain harder to climb, not because it’s any steeper than any other season, but because the air around these occasions tends to get foggy for the climber. 

Take a wedding for example. As someone who spent ten years photographing this occasion, I’ve seen hundreds of people cartwheel down that one. It’s TRIPPY. But do you know how many actual people in the actual world actually care what flavor your cake is going to be? Maybe your Aunt Betty, but you only see her twice a year and, seriously, how many times can she really bring it up? Pick a flavor and crush that pebble.

Guess how many people care what shade of dusty rose those bridesmaids dresses are? ZERO. Unless you do, and you force your favorite friends to give up four Saturdays in a row to “get the perfect look” for your day. Then I can promise, all those favorite friends care about is when your wedding can be over and they can get back to their own mountains. Kick that rock out of the way and get to building the actual marriage (cause that part, honey, is so not small stuff). 

How about when you birth that first baby? There goes a thousand topics for another day, but THE FOG can be SO DANG heavy up on THAT mountain. You’ll be better off to just stop where you’re at, lay down the hiking stick, pull a KIND bar out of your diaper bag and sit yo’ silly self down before you lose your footing completely. 

The Perfect Birth Story. Not yours to write.

The Perfect Going Home Outfit. Might be covered in spit up.

The Perfect Newborn Pictures. WILL be covered in…something.

The Perfect Breastfeeding Experience. May or may not be in the cards.

The Perfect Baby Daddy. Bless his poor pitiful heart! Who dat?!

Now I’m not sitting high and mighty over here. It’s easier to see all that once you’ve been through those particular foggy times, and even for experts like me (HAAAA!), there are other seasons too. Holidays, new homes, going back to school, new jobs, and anytime you see anything cool on someone else’s Instagram story can make you feel a little disoriented on the mountain. It’s especially easy to stumble when you’re climbing beside other people who are as clumsy-footed as you are. 

You know how it goes. If they slip on an Unimportant Thing, the first thing they’ll do is wail about it, and depending on your own strength that day, you’ll either fall right down there with them or offer them a hand to stand back up. It takes practice to be strong enough to offer the hand.

At this point in life I still stumble, but I’m finding it way more fun to be standing on top of the mountain than to be buried beneath. Maybe I dropped my Give-A-Crap in one of those other falls, but I’m becoming a more steady climber with practice, and I’m telling you, the view is extra refreshing and much less sweaty from the top. 

Kids looking flawless every Sunday at church – Under the mountain.

Just getting the kids TO church – On top.

Having my name on every volunteer list in town – Buried underneath.

Bringing my best service to one or two worthy causes – Beautiful up there. 

Getting the Annual Incredible Christmas Card Photo – Back at the bottom.

Being present enough to notice Christmas Card Worthy Moments all year – So high I can feel the clouds.

When I feel my foot slipping, I like to think back to my favorite line in that bathroom book. 

“Will this matter a year from now?”

Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff and It’s All Small Stuff, Richard Carlson

Most of the time I find that whatever it is that tried to trip me doesn’t even matter right now, and THAT is what it feels like to stand strong. Oh, what I could do with all the time, money, sleep, and happiness I’ve dropped along the way if I could only get it back now.

Let’s keep practicing, friends. When we spend all our waking hours UNDER the Mountain of Unimportant Things, it’s nearly impossible to find the energy to climb Mt. Actually Meaningful when we get to it. I promise to grab your arm and pull you up if you’ll grab mine.

Dropping the *F word

Posted on October 9, 2019 by Be still

We all have to deal with it whether we want to or not. Some of us wear it like a tattoo on our forehead while some of us keep it tucked away in the bottom of our purse, mostly forgotten and dirty but there, with us nonetheless. Some of us try to control it, some of us…Just. Can’t. But we all have it. We all know it.

Fear.

I’ve had a solid relationship with Fear my entire life. At times it’s been helpful [see teenage me, too afraid to put my lips to a bong when everyone else at the party seemed pretty friggin’ fearless]. Other times I’ve been embarrassed by it, like the time I launched into a full blown freak out [now known to me as an anxiety attack] in the middle of a pleasantly crowded lagoon in Italy, sure that the rocks I could see below me in the crystal clear water were about to eat me. Like, WHAT? It happened.

Other times I’ve put it in my back pocket, covered it with makeup, waved it in the air, stomped on it with pure certainty, oh, and clutched it with white knuckles that time I made it jump out of an airplane holding my hand. That’s right, I jumped out of an actual airplane so who’s fearless now!? Yeah. Not me.

Lately, as it tends to operate when your deepest desires tell you to DO something NEW, Fear has been showing up in my face like a middle school mean girl. Hand on hip, whispering in my ear one minute and behind my back the next, saying things like:

Look at you, you have no idea what you’re doing. You’re going to fail. You already have failed. You’re going to offend someone. They’re all going to laugh at you. You’re wasting your time, your money, your energy. NO ONE cares. You don’t have the skills or the discipline to make this work. WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Middle School Mean Girl Fear is the WORST. I’d like to punch that Fear in the face, but then, I’d never punch anyone really because that’s violent, violence is bad, and also I’d be too afraid she’d punch me back, just much harder because she’s more experienced than I am at punching things.

You know what’s more terrifying to me at this moment than anything Fear has to say? Not taking the chance. Somehow it seems that in our world, you have to be recently brushed by death – or at the very least, a millennial – to get the fact that life is a temporary gift. There are TWO important pieces to that statement – temporary, the obvious one, and GIFT. We forget so often that God never promised perfection or ease down here, but for me at least, the gifts keep coming – they’re literally all around us. Why on EARTH wouldn’t we open them?

Today, Fear is with me, resting it’s head in my lap sleepily as I prepare to put it to bed. When I do, I’ll lay it down gently, then take a walk with some other friends – friend’s that I don’t make time to see quite as often. Trust and Obey. And the three of us, if Fear keeps napping, WE are gonna open some gifts.

“Be still” and grow (because He said so).

Posted on October 7, 2019 by Be still

You know what you get when you take a perfectly good life, throw in a perfectly great husband, a couple perfectly awesome kids, a perfectly respectable career, perfectly incredible friends, and a small town community full of perfectly well-meaning people? If you’re anything like me (we’ll get to that later), you just might get a capital M.E.S.S. – that’s right, the hot kind.

I recently celebrated my thirty-fifth birthday feeling like the most-blessed, least got-it-together, happiest, most anxiety-ridden person I’ve ever known myself to be. You see, friend, by literally ALL THE STANDARDS, I’ve got it all. I can’t turn around without bumping face-first into a blessing. I’m safe, I’m healthy, I’m loved, I LOVE, and I’m saved. I’m here, and I’m good, but I feel like a complete whackadoodle of a mess, because someone (yep, I’m talking to YOU, God) dropped a bomb of a message on me when I least expected it. Thank you? I think?

Not the blast-you-into-a-million-pieces kind of bomb (thank you, Lord – that would call for a much more serious kind of story). More like one of those giant unicorn-shaped sparkly bath bombs your daughter drops in when you JUST sipped your wine and closed your eyes, the kind that splashes you up the nose, leaves you with a perfume headache, slippery feet, and an uncertain ring around the tub. I mean, that’s what I imagine those things do…I haven’t had a closed-eye-wine-bath since way before unicorn bath bombs were a thing.

Anyhow, here’s what He said:

“Be still and know that I am God.”

Psalm 46:10 NIV

Eight tiny words. Words that I knew by heart, suddenly SO LOUD. I heard it for the first time in the middle of the night, again the next day, and over and over AND OVER again for months. “Be still. Be still and know. Be still and know that I AM. Be still and know that I am God. Not you, hun. Me. I AM GOD, and I’ve got this. Let it go. Slow it down. BE. STILL.”

I mean…WHAT? “Of course I know you’re God,” I argued. I was grateful for that, always had been. His plan, not mine. He’s in control, not us. He’ll take care of us. Yes, I KNOW. But I wasn’t living like I knew. I was living like ALL THE THINGS were mine to do, mine to accomplish, mine to fight for, mine to make perfect, not His. Ouch. [Splash up the nose.]

There I am, fresh-haircut-deep in this life that any small town American girl could only dream of, I’m doing it. I have THE ACTUAL dream. And I’m drowning. I’m drowning in work, I’m drowning in missing socks, in unanswered texts, in unfinished Bible studies, in candy melted to the door of my new car, in wishing I could be a better wife/mom/daughter/sister/friend, in guilt for thinking this, and regret for not saying that, in desires for more and shame for how I could possibly feel that I’m entitled to ANYTHING more. I’m treading water holding two bowling balls and I. AM. GOING. DOWN.

I knew for certain when I heard it that I had to make some changes, but (control freaks unite) I wasn’t sure that I could. Life was GOOD. [Perfume headache.] I was fine. Never mind that my hair had started to fall out and I couldn’t catch a full breath on a weekday morning. I was FINE.

“Be still.” Wait. Who? ME? [Slippery feet.]

SO, here I sit, making one small move at a time [sitting stunned and disoriented in an uncertain (sparkly?) ring], waiting for the next clear message to come. I’m BAD at this, but I’m trying. I’m trying because now I know that believing something and actively living it are two completely different things. “Be still,” He said. “Be still.” And then a few weeks later, one more VERY loud, VERY clear word.

“WRITE.”

So bossy. So awesome. SO scary I’m still a little nauseous from encountering it. This could be a HOT MESS…but wait…hot messes are kinda my jam? “Be still. Trust me. ‘BE STILL and know that I am God.’ And WRITE.”

I’m inviting you into this story just in case you can relate, and if you can’t, maybe you’ll find it entertaining to watch a pre-midlife crisis go down, southern-smalltown-working-mama-style. It’s happening either way, and I can’t wait to see where it leads. We’re all gonna need that bath soon.

I'm Allison
Family girl, creator, lover of the 80s. Recovering workaholic and reformed people-pleaser. Certain that life begins at 35 (or whenever we wake up and realize we are laugh-lines-deep in blessings).