The grass is always greener

"When do I get to go to daycare?" asked Lily.
It was the eve of the first day of kindergarten and the topic of conversation had been about all the exciting things she could anticipate the next day.
"What do you mean daycare? You're going to kindergarten." I was truly perplexed by this question.
"But I want to go to daycare. Where your mommy and daddy go to work all day and you get to take naps at daycare and stay all day," she explained, with a serious look of anticipation waiting for any facial expression of mine that would reveal an answer.
After thinking for awhile about my answer I replied, "Sweetie, you're never going to go to daycare. You're so fortunate to have a mommy who can stay home and be with you every afternoon." I said it as sweetly as possible, thinking that surely she would see how lucky of a little girl she is to have such an awesome mom to hang with everyday.
"But, I want to go to the daycare..." trailing off in a full lip-quiver while real tears began to well up in her five year old eyes.
I gave her a look and changed the subject and the conversation ended there. Kindergarten was a success and no tears from anyone, even Mommy.

But that conversation played over and over in my head the past few days. And it evoked lots of emotion in me. I was a little ticked actually. How ungrateful, I thought! Doesn't she know how big of a deal it for me to be at home? You see, I just officially became a stay-at-home a few weeks ago after a very slow exit from the working mom world.
For the past 10 years I've worked for Barnes & Noble and although retail can have it's fair share of stressful moments (i.e. Black Friday, Christmastime, every time a new return policy was enforced..) I really enjoyed my time there. The people I worked with are awesome. They came to my wedding, threw me baby showers, and helped me with my schedule when I became sick. They really have become like family to me.
In the year after my daughter was born she did attend daycare while I worked as a manager full-time. I had such issues with the quality of care she was receiving that it caused a flare up. One day I walked in to pick her up and I felt her diaper was so soaking wet that it had soaked through her clothes. When I asked the daycare employee about it she said. "Oh, we're out of wipes." What?? The only thing the daycare provided besides some questionable care (a few of the women were wonderful, don't get me wrong) was baby wipes. And they ran out? Send someone to the store! Don't leave my daughter sitting on the floor with urine soaked clothes! I left the room and told the director we were done.
My flare up got worse and I ended up having to take some more time off work. When I returned to work part time (not as a manager anymore) my mom watched her for the time I worked which was such a blessing. It gave them some quality time and afforded us the savings in childcare so we could withstand the huge pay cut I had just received. After I had my son I went back to work even more part time. I worked one night a week anticipating that there would be a day when I could logistically work more hours again. This past spring I tried to work a little more and it was pretty much terrible for our family dynamic. I would only see my husband in passing as he got home from work and I would throw him the reigns as I headed out to the store. Some nights we even met at the store and I had to hand them off. It got crazy and it wasn't working anymore. So I told my manager I needed to take the summer off and that I would be back in the fall when the kids start school.
But as the start of school approached my husband and I both knew that we couldn't go back to being two ships passing in the night. The truth is, I have a full-time job. Yes, I'm a mediocre maid, a chauffeur who can't park (or backup) worth a lick, a chef with good intentions, a boxing referee, a short-tempered teacher, and a play date coordinator. And now I can officially say I am a stay-at-home MOM! 
For so long I have been toeing that line and keeping one foot at my job and one foot at home and not fully being available to either. No matter which side I stood on the other side always looked like the better option. When I worked I longed to be at home and playing with my kids and watching their milestones. When I was at home I looked forward to the nights I worked so I could have adult conversations without having to keep one eye on my kids. The grass on the other side was always greener and maybe a bit better maintained, too. So we decided I needed to stay home for this season. And it was certainly the right decision. But right away I began day dreaming about my new steps, my next season. My imagination trailing to what 'could be'.

On Thursday, with both my children at school, I was blessed with some quiet time on the beach beginning a new book, The Resolution for Women, by Priscilla Shirer. In the first chapter I was hit like a ton of bricks when she discussed how she hadn't been fully engaged in her life and how she wanted to change for the upcoming year.

"Only for the coming year would my husband be exactly like this. Only for these fleeting moments would my children talk, look and act exactly like this. And if I chose to hurry through them in an attempt to avoid the parts I didn't like, I'd simultaneously miss all the things I did like about this season." 

Wow. So powerful. That's what I was doing! After I finished the chapter I closed the book and looked up to see an elderly woman probably around 70. She was walking down the beach at the surf's edge with a cane, clutching her hip as if it was bothering her. Her right hip. The same hip that bothers me. Tears started to stream down my face. As I watched her slowly make her way down the beach God reminded me of how fleeting this life is. James 4:14 popped in my head: 

Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. 

Tomorrow I may be that older woman clutching my hip, slowly making my way down the beach, and laughing at how much of a hurry I was in when I was 33. Wishing I had slowed down and enjoyed the season for all it held. 

Given my life the past few years I shouldn't be the least bit surprised that my daughter is standing on one side of the fence and looking over at the other side thinking how green and well-groomed their grass may be. 

For this season I am making a commitment to be fully present and engaged and have a grateful heart. Those are all traits I want for my children, but I have to truly model it first. 

Beth Moore, juice fasting and sin

"Are you sure I can't get you something?" said the cute waitress. Her sweet smile was fading looking at our tiny bill and thus, a tiny tip.

She had already brought me water with lemon.

"No, really. I'm fine." And since that was the third time I had answered her I felt the need to elaborate a little. "My husband and I are doing a juice fast, so we're not eating for 10 days. Just drinking fresh juice."

And there it was. The look. The are-you-sure-you're-not-drinking-Koolaid-waiting-for-a-comet? look. Followed by "Huh...okay." I was already familiar with this look.

This was day 3 of our juice fast and the day before my daughter's birthday. My mom had offered to watch my son so we could have a "Mommy day" and where did she want to go first? The sushi restaurant! That's where both of my kids always want to go on a Mommy day. I have them trained well. It's my favorite.

And seeing as how I hadn't eaten food in 3 days I thought it might be a tough temptation, but we were celebrating!

So I sat there with my water and lemon wedge and watched my almost five year old eat my favorite food ever. No big deal. And she couldn't finish 4 pieces so we LEFT THEM! Ugh! Awful. No, no big deal.
I was so happy to have overcome temptation when it was right in front of me. I probably even pat myself on the back a few times for it and gave myself a high five, which I guess would really be a clap, but you get my drift. I thought, "I've got this fasting thing down. No big deal. 7 more days. Easy peasy."

I made it through her birthday. Served her an insanely delicious looking cake with cream cheese frosting and chocolate chips sprinkled on top. I even got some frosting on my finger and WASHED IT OFF!  *gasp*

On the following day, day 5, I had a very tiring day. My husband was coming home late and so I fed the kids by myself. I made them grilled pimento cheese sandwiches. The smell was intoxicating. As they ate I made my freshly squeezed green juice. The smell was not as intoxicating. But I sipped it as I cleaned the kitchen. As I cleaned up the kids plates I started to throw their leftovers away and I noticed that my son hadn't taken a single bite of his sandwich. So I did what I would normally always do when cleaning up the kids' plates. I took a bite without even thinking about it. Am I the only mom who is a human garbage disposal? I hope not. And how could a son of mine not devour a grilled pimento cheese sandwich? How wasteful! Mid-swallow I remembered "Wait! We're not eating food! Stop!" But it had already gone down. "Do I throw it up? Is it going to make me sick? What do I do?" So I looked at the rest of the sandwich for a few seconds as the taste of the first bite lingered on my tongue. And then I ate it. The whole stinking thing. My flesh was whispering to me 'You've already messed up. You might as well finish it off.'

The rest of the night I felt terrible about it. I prayed, I repented, I was forgiven. Done, right? No need to tell my husband. Move on to a new day. Get back on track.

So the next day I woke up and felt even worse about it. I was hostile to my kids most of the day. I was snarky with texts to my husband. I physically got ill, too. Fasts were not meant to be broken with grilled pimento cheese sandwiches. That's all I'll say about that.

That night I went to see Beth Moore at her Living Proof Live conference. Several times that afternoon I thought of many reasons not to go. I was in a foul mood, but I rallied and made it there. As the lights were going down in the auditorium, tears welled up in my eyes and I was so surprised. I wasn't in the mood for this. Stop it, tears. Where did you come from? But as the worship music came on they fell freely from my face. I managed to clean myself up as the lights went back up and Beth came out on the platform to speak. About 5 minutes into the evening she started talking about how amazing the food is in Charleston and she had such an amazing dinner. Then she put a picture on the screen of her meal.

A GRILLED PIMENTO CHEESE SANDWICH!

I started crying again. If anyone saw me they would have thought I was an insane person. Who cries over pimento cheese? Unless it's spilled on the floor or something, but even then you enforce the 5 second rule, right? So I straightened myself up and told myself that it was just a crazy coincidence. God wasn't convicting me in the middle of 9,000 women, right?

Beth went on to discuss the first two of her eight points for the conference. The first one was: 'We are here to be more honest versions of ourselves.'

BAM! Convicted. Fess up, Stacie.

And her second point was 'We cannot fully walk in our birthright if we are living as part fraud.'

WOW! Ok, I get it. I need to tell my husband.

And she elaborated into saying how social media is such a slippery-slope for Christians and that we need to make sure we are fully representing ourselves and not just putting our best side on there for self-promotion. Immediately the previous 5 days of Instagrams went through my brain. All posts of my juice fast and people telling me what a great job I was doing. And no, there was no Instagram depicting me eating a grilled pimento cheese sandwich. That one didn't make it on there.

So, after the conference that night I called my husband from the parking lot to tell him about my slip. Which was first accidental (the first bite) and then intentional (inhaling the rest of it.) He was so gracious, as he is always. And after we talked I sat in traffic for about an hour on my way home and thought of how this slip played out. The whole fast I had thought that if I avoided temptation I would be fine. But when I actually did fall and taste the "forbidden fruit", it was my natural inclination to do so. It was almost instinctual. And then afterwards when I realized what I had done it was almost as if a serpent was whispering into my ear "it's too late now. you're so weak. you might as well keep sinning because it's what you do best." But the real sin came when my husband walked through the door that night and I had the chance to tell him what happened, but I didn't. I felt shameful and embarrassed and weak. And I should have shared that with him, but I didn't. This is how sin usually operates in my life. It's at first accidental, then intentional, and then deceptive. It's an ugly vicious cycle, but then there is the beautiful conclusion: repentance, forgiveness, grace. Thank you, Jesus!

To finish the rest of my drive home I decided to listen to my bible study chapter on my phone. (YouVersion app is awesome, by the way. The guy who reads it is sooo dramatic and I really enjoy it) Towards the end of the chapter this verse hit me like a ton of bricks : 

Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. James 5:16

And I felt like God was telling me that I needed to confess my sins to not just my husband, but to everyone who had been supporting me and rooting me on during this fast. I certainly don't want to represent myself as something I'm not. I don't want to lie to any of you, my friends. So, I have slowly been telling my girlfriends and now I am publicly outing myself! I ATE A GRILLED PIMENTO CHEESE SANDWICH!! 

So, today is Day 10. The final day of the juice fast. And we plan on breaking the fast with our small group tonight. A group of friends who have prayed for me and encouraged me the past few years so I think it only fitting we celebrate with them. But I'm not bringing any pimento cheese sandwiches!

(For a recap of our juice fast results check back later in the week!)

Did you know that?

As I explained in my last post, after my recent autoimmune flare-up I knew that I could no longer continue to gloss over my disease to my daughter. She saw her mommy in pain, in tears, and her world wasn't as stable as I usually try to make it. Let me give you a little backstory on previous times this little angel has seen me in tears.

Last winter my grandmother had been having some health problems. I just got off a phone call with her finding out she may need to have some risky open heart surgery. I was upset so I retreated to my bathroom and started crying. Lily, age 3 then, was in the other room playing, but she heard me. She always hears me. I realize that now. She came into the room with her little play princess cell phone and handed it to me and said, "Mommy, call God, he'll answer you." You see we had recently started memorizing scripture with Truthcards and the previous week our verse was Psalm 120:1, "I call on the Lord in my distress and he answers me." So naturally, as I stared at that little princess play phone and I looked up at Lily with her eyes so full of hope and knowing that she had the answer for me... I cried even harder, but then I laughed and hugged her and told her how very, very right she was. And we sat on that bathroom floor together and prayed for my grandmother. She ended up needing a more minor surgery and is doing well.

Several months later, right after Lily tuned 4, I was packing the kids in the car to head to a meeting at church. I was startled to see a dead baby deer on my neighbors front lawn. It had apparently gotten stuck in my neighbor's fence in his backyard and died, but he brought it up front when doing yardwork to bag it up. Great. Thanks for that. And when I saw it I screamed out loud so I brought my kids attetion straight where I didn't want it to be. Nice job, Mommy. Then as we pull out of the driveway, Lily asks me why that man was putting the sleeping baby deer in a trash bag. Was he trash? I felt an urge to make up a story about how deer take naps in trash bags instead of beds, but thankfully that's not what came out of my mouth. I explained that he was dead. We had never known anyone who was dead before and she was too young to remember our cat who died when she was 2, so it was hard to explain what dead meant. I found us having a very sweet conversation about heaven.
"Who goes to heaven, Mommy? Will I go to heaven?"
"Yes, but not for a long time."
"Because I have Jesus in my heart? Will Jesus come with me in my heart to heaven?"
"Jesus will always be with you. No matter where you go."
"Mommy, let's pray about it right now."

So in that 5 minute ride to church my 4 year old was praying for Jesus to come into her heart so he could be with her in heaven. Not quite where or how I had planned on discussing salvation, but there was a reason for that dead baby deer that morning...
3 days later my grandfather suddenly passed away. We found out about it at night, but the next morning I came downstairs before anyone was awake to call my dad and see how he was doing. After I got off the phone the realization that Gramps was really gone hit me hard and I cried. I was crying so hard I didn't hear the pitter patter of little feet come down the stairs. Lily. She had heard me. Of course.

"Mommy, what's wrong? Why do you have water coming out of your eyes?"
"Sweetie, Gramps died last night and I'm sad about it because I'll miss him very much."
"But mommy, why are you sad? That means he's in heaven with Jesus."
More tears, more hugging, more blown away by this little angel.
"Yes, sweetie, he is. You're right."

Gramps and Lily picking beans from his garden

Sometimes I'm not ready to have these conversations with my daughter. I'm sure the time will come when I have to experience all these things with my son as well ina different way. But I've learned that its not my timing. It's God's timing. 

So after my flare up I felt a Holy Spirit nudge that I needed to explain to my almost 5 year old what's wrong with Mommy. So my mother watched my son that day as I picked Lily up from vacation bible school and took her out to lunch. After we had ordered, I explained to her that mommy is okay. I said that I have a disease, a sickness that sometimes makes my body hurt even though you can't see a boo boo. I explained that it was just the way God made me. And I said that the disease will probably never go away, but it can be controlled by medicine. She almost cut me off mid-sentence when the word 'control' came out of my mouth. 

"No, no mommy. God is in in control. Did you know that?"

The eagerness behind her words showed that this was something that she has just learned and she couldn't wait to share it with me. Naturally, I started crying. I said, "You're right sweetie. Sometimes Mommy forgets." 

Thank God for this little angel in my life who can keep Mommy in check. I get goose bumps every time I think of these conversations. The Lord has given her such amazing spiritual gifts and I am so excited to see how she uses them in the years to come. 

The past two weeks when I have gotten bummed about my disease I hear those words. 

"God is in control. Did you know that?"

It's a reminder we all need sometimes. And you never know what messenger God is going to use. So be on the look out. 

A decade under construction.

The town we live in is named Mount Pleasant. I mean, that's about as close to the 50s parody movie Pleasantville as you can get without being downright obnoxious. When I hear "Mount Pleasant" I can hear the first few whistling notes of the Andy Griffith Show theme song and I envision bake sales and sock hops and church bazaars. And while Mount Pleasant certainly is a wonderful to live and raise a family, it may not always appear to be that way as you roll into a totally, chaotic construction zone as soon you as you enter the town limits from any direction. I've lived here the better part of 10 years and as soon as one project is completed another ones seems to begin. A road is made wider, but then that road needs a new shoulder, or a bike lane, or a whole new lane. We are constantly pushing and stretching our limits to make room for new people, new families. The price of progress. But totally worth it. So we show the construction workers grace and smile and wave as they demolish yet another intersection so it can turn into a flower-edged traffic circle or put up yet ANOTHER stop light. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel and we show grace. Hopefully. 

This town has really been a mirror for my own life in many ways. 10 years ago to this very day I was a total mess of emotion, a broken-down pile of rubble and felt like something inside me had been demolished. 

It was during a night of worship on a Tuesday geared towards the youth of our church- called The Annex. I had been struggling with a host of inner conflicts in the days, weeks, months and even years leading up to this night. But that night God brought out the wrecking ball of Hope and destroyed the hurts and fears in my life. He gave me a glimpse into what life could look like for me. 

For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. Romans 8:24-25

I had been trying for so long to 'take control' and 'do it my way', but that night I surrendered and gave up, and gave my life to Him. Did I wake up the next morning a restored woman ready to take on the world's sorrow? Um, no. In fact I didn't sleep at all that night. Looking back I can say that God was probably using those restless nights to hear Him through the stillness. But there were a lot of restless nights! Nights spent reading and writing and digging into who God wanted me to be and see where my place was in this world. And for the first time in my life I knew there was a plan. A purpose meant just for me. And that all the things leading up to this change was part of that plan. 

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope. Jeremiah 29:11

And so the last ten years my life has resembled a pretty chaotic construction site. I have slowly repaved some of the larger potholes of my life only to then get to a spot where I realize I need to construct a bridge to avoid shark infested waters. Some days I look in the mirror and I see caution tape wrapped around my mouth warning me to shut up if I know what's good for me. Other seasons I feel like I need to walk around with those big orange barrels surrounding my very existence so people know what a mess is abut to invade their space. But the whole time has been a season of learning about God's amazing grace. Knowing that God doesn't love me any more than He did on that dark day 10 years ago when I handed Him the big pile of rubble that my life had become. To Him it was better than a field of the sweetest smelling wildflowers because it was His creation. And any amount of effort I put in after that was just a beautification project in reality. 

 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them—yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me. 1 Corinthians 15:10

Don't get me wrong, the past 10 years have been filled with A LOT of glory-filled moments. I got a job working with people I truly enjoyed being with and sharing life with. I married a man who shows me love and strength even on the days when I should have "Yield" or "Proceed with Extreme Caution" tattooed on my forehead. I gave birth to 2 of the cutest, smartest, and sweetest kids EVER. (I'm not even exaggerating here, ok?) And I have enjoyed strengthening bonds with my parents who prayed me through the darkest of days. The agony and pain I must have put them through I pray I never fully know. And I have founded deeper relationships with other people who also accept me as the crumbled, broken mess I am. People who I am privileged to call friends. People who I get the honor to 'do life' alongside. 

And now what are you waiting for?
Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name.
Acts 22:16

My faithful, prayer-warrior parents
June, 2002

I share these things with you not to say "Hey y'all look at me! I'm not as much of a mess as I used to be!" Because some days I truly am a hot mess. But I share these things with you to show you that life has infinite possibilities. If you had told me 10 years ago that I would be driving a minivan blaring kids movies and happily deciding to be a stay-at-home mom, I would have hopped in my Jeep with the top down and doors off and looked for the nearest detour as I blasted Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive". But there is only One who knows what your roapmap looks like a decade from now. So why not let Him take over and enjoy the view from the passenger seat? And buckle up. It can get bumpy. But this is just the ride. The destination is yet to come.