I am sure you have heard of the enneagram. If you haven’t, maybe you’re living under a rock, or just out in the world doing much more important things than over-analyzing your own personality and the personality of others. But if you have heard of the enneagram, then you’ll know what I mean when I say I am a type 9.

Honestly, that’s been up for debate a lot because I’m also scared like a 6. And if you ever care enough, I’ll gladly walk you through why I think I am probably a 9 and not a 6.

Anyway, I am a type 9 on the enneagram, and part of that means that I don’t just form my opinions based on facts. While I take facts into consideration, I feel most comfortable forming my opinions by listening to the opinions of other people that I trust and then determining if I agree or disagree with those opinions. This means that I’m definitely going to ask you what you are ordering at a restaurant before I make my own decision.

Generally, this works out okay. My friends and family willingly offer up their opinions, and I slowly form my own as I consider the opinions of others. There are, of course, some opinions that hold a greater weight. There are people that I trust most and also those people that are directly affected by whatever situation or circumstance I am trying to form an opinion about.

That was a lot of background to get to my point. Which is: the past few months have been so hard to navigate and full of internal conflict for this enneagram 9. Opinions right now are many and diverse. And they are loud. A lot of them are from people I trust and yet they all believe something different. And those opinions are all also based on facts. Different facts, but facts nonetheless.

And that’s been really hard for me.

In response to that, I’ve dwelt on two truths that have anchored me, so I don’t get swept away in despair and fear and all the things (that’s the 6 coming out).

1. God is in control and He is good.
   
   I always remind myself of both things. God is in control, and He is good. One without the other is scary or ineffective. God being in control but not all good – that’s scary. God being good but not in control – that’s not very comforting either. But the fact that He is both is so good and so comforting. In the midst of this crazy season that 2020 has brought to us all, I have to remind myself that both are true. Remembering this helps me when I am feeling the opinions and the news and the politics start to toss me in a million directions.
   
   
2. Cling to what is true.
   
   “Truth” has been hard to define in the midst of this pandemic. Everyone has facts. Everyone has facts based on science. And yet, it still seems hard to know what is true. First, you shouldn’t wear a mask. Then, you should. First, it’s not airborne. Then, it is. The truth is constantly changing. And different people say different things. Those different people say the other people are idiots. The other people say the other people are idiots. And around and around we go.
   
   More than ever, I have been so glad to have some anchor of truth in my life. I really believe that we will never know the truth about some things that go on in this world. But, I do believe that what the Bible says is true, and I have felt so grateful that I have that. When I’ve felt most conflicted, I’ve had to turn off the news, remove social media from my phone, and turn to what I KNOW is true.
   
   

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.

Hebrews 10:23

And I give you that same encouragement. Remember that we are still in the hands of God. He is with us always. And remember what is true. Just like Philippians 4:8 says, “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” And if you don’t remember what those things are, read your Bible.

There is really not much special or fancy that you will find when you look at our lives. If you look at our house, it’s nice but nothing special. I’m not at all a decorative person, so the inside is minimal or chaotic but not in a designed Pinterest way. Our cars are not the newest or nicest. They are older, they’ve got scratches, they get us from point A to point B on their best days. If you stand outside and look at us, you really won’t find much to be impressed with. I haven’t been able to accumulate much physical treasure in this life.

But I’ve accumulated something else. Something else I’m really proud of. Something I love more than any fancy house or fancy car or fancy treasure.

I’ve accumulated people. The best people. The best friends.

I wish if you looked at my life, you could see my people.

I have a friend that has walked me through life’s best moments and it’s worst moments. I have a friend that I go to anytime I need help understanding another side. I have a friend that shares my passions and my struggles. I have a friend that writes down everything she hears to make sure she remembers it later. I have a friend that has known me most of my life. The list could go on. My friends are kind and thoughtful and hilarious. We cry together, we laugh together, we have hard conversations, we speak truth.

So, when I look at life, I don’t see a lot of the best things. But I see a lot of the best people. And those treasures are infinitely more valuable to me than anything I could accumulate on this earth.

I’ve just started singing with my 1-year-old son every night before bed. When we walk into his room for bedtime, he points to his rocking chair and yells, ‘sing!’. And then he hands me a book titled Jesus Loves You that walks through that simple song.

After a couple nights of singing Jesus Loves You, we added on a couple more songs. And most recently, we started singing This Little Light of Mine.

This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine. 

Being an adult can be complicated and hard. I am always in my head evaluating if I’m spending my life well. Am I making the right decisions for myself and for my family? I’m worrying about money, and health, and safety, and all the things. And in the midst of all my worries, simple truths are swallowed up by all the other things that I have vying for my attention.

And then one night, I’m just sitting in a rocking chair with my precious boy singing a kid’s song and I’m reminded of the simple truths. Like, the declaration to let my light shine.

Hide it under a bushel? No! I’m going to let it shine.

This verse gets a little rowdy as we all shout ‘NO!’ (kids are really good at shouting ‘no’…). No, we won’t hide it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older (and as social media has connected us to thousands of people), it’s that suffering and tragedy is all around. Evil is all around. Darkness is all around.

In John 8:12, Jesus says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” And when He is introduced at the beginning of John, it says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (verse 5).  This light that we carry with us every day, this hope, this truth, it shines in the darkness, and it will not be overcome.

Don’t let the devil blow it out! I’m going to let it shine. 

And then I am reminded to not let anything (including the devil) blow it out. Don’t let the cares of this world, the anxious thoughts, the frustrations, quench the flame. Don’t let the fire die out, but fan it into flame (2 Tim 1:5). That flame that burns in your heart that gives you purpose in all you do, hope in every fear, comfort in sadness, and joy in despair. Fan that into flame, and don’t let it be blown out by your circumstances.

So, I declare loudly and proudly like my sweet 1-year-old son:

This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine. 

Shine bright, my son.

Bedtime is always a reminder to me of how undeserving I feel to have these two precious babies. I’ve got my spicy girl who is so funny that sometimes I just let her stay up late, so I can hear what crazy things she has to say. And then I have my sweet boy that will just press his head against me and let me hold him and snuggle him.

And every night as I put these two to bed, I feel so undeserving of these good, good gifts.

But then, my mind goes next to how undeserving they are as well. My babies didn’t get to choose what family and what circumstance they would be born into. These kids are going to grow up in a (somewhat) stable middle-class home. They constantly get spoiled by extended family. They get told I love you and hugged so often that Ellie literally told us tonight, “I don’t have time for this” when we asked for another hug. My babies did nothing to earn this life – it’s just the life they were born into. Because their mom and dad are able to work, they get to go to a great school with great teachers and learn so many things. They look at heaping plates of food and tell us that they don’t like it (even though they ate the exact same thing the night before). And they know, if they turn down this plate of food, they won’t starve. They don’t have to worry about being taken care of.

And then, there are other precious babies that are in circumstances they don’t deserve. But they were born into desperate and dark situations. Homes with parents that are fighting addictions. Homes with empty pantries. Born into poverty and would be so grateful for this heaping plate of food that my kids are rejecting. There are babies that are experiencing violence and oppression and abuse. Babies that have been separated from their families and people they know. Alone and afraid and confused. And I just can’t even imagine my babies being in those circumstances.

And I guess I say all that as a reminder. A reminder to not become so politically arrogant that you forget to care about the kids. A reminder to not emotionally disconnect from the real humans that are caught up in all kinds of different circumstances that we see everywhere we turn. A reminder to care for the least of these, and do something when you find opportunities to do something.

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“Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” – Matthew 25:40

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“Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” – Mark 9:37

Donovan and I looked forward to this summer. For him, teaching meant that he would have the summer off. For me, the birth of our newest baby meant that I would have the same months off. We reduced our toddler’s school schedule and were excited to spend this summer as a family.

And the summer was good. Until August.

At the beginning of August, we began to feel the pressure of Donovan’s decision to leave his teaching job and begin his own small carpentry business. With paychecks from his previous year teaching coming to an end and myself still being on unpaid leave, financial stability became a growing concern.

Then on August 3rd, Donovan ran his thumb through a table saw. As I am getting ready to get E from school, take dinner to our friends who just had a baby, and head to the pool for Friday night as a family, I hear “Lauren, you’re going to need to drive me to the doctor. NOW.” And so, August began. We rushed to a local emergency room where we were told he would need immediate hand surgery since he hit the bone. We drove downtown where a surgical team was waiting for us. Fortunately, the process was much quicker than expected, and we were home by midnight.

To a hot, 90-degree house. Our AC unit had gone out while we were at the hospital. I strip the kids and put them to bed in as little as possible, and first thing in the morning, we call an AC tech that gives us an outrageous $17,000 quote to replace the unit. So, we pack up and head to stay with friends who have graciously opened their home to our rowdy family of four.

At this point, I am already feeling like the hits are coming from all sides.

Thankfully, the next day, our friends are able to replace one part on our AC unit for $30 and get it back up and running. So, we move back into our house (bittersweet, because we were enjoying our luxury stay with our friends).

A few days later, we take the newest baby for his 2-month check up. With a previous issue losing weight, we’re relieved to see him gaining weight as expected. But then the pediatrician shows concern about his skull and asks us to see a specialist. Okay, so treatment would be a helmet? No, it would more likely be surgery. Cranial surgery on my 2-month-old baby? Wow. (Spoiler alert: his head is fine.)

The next day, we head down to Donovan’s thumb appointment hoping for good news and are told that he will most likely need a second surgery with skin graft.

This is our August.

It’s not over, but it’s been hard. And while a lot of things have resolved well, there have been dark moments. But Donovan and I have wanted people to know as we’ve walked through it all, that our hope is in God.

When Jesus was leaving this earth, he made us a promise. That he would be with us. Always. To the end of the age. And he has been with us this month. As we’ve taken what feels like hit after hit after hit. We’ve felt his nearness. And while we were never promised that life won’t feel dark sometimes, we have been promised that he is with us through it all.

So we’ll follow wherever He leadeth,
Let the path be dreary or bright;
For we’ve proved that our God can give comfort; 
Our God can give songs in the night.

The truth is that God has provided for us. He has given us songs in the night.

I’ve wanted to write a post for a while now about why and when my husband and I decide to take breaks from social media.

Sometimes, we step out off silently, and sometimes, we announce it, and sometimes, we are met with resistance. I’ve found that hard to understand, but perhaps our reasons are also hard to understand. So I want to pose a reminder that social media (ex. Facebook, Instagram, etc.) are not reliable mediums for deep relationship with others.

So why do we (as individuals and as family) step away for periods of time?

First of all, we often find ourselves restless with time devoted to mindless scrolling through information. When we find ourselves being restless, Donovan and I often make the decision to step away temporarily to reorder our priorities and make sure we are handling our time wisely.

I wanted to share a scripture that I have been dwelling on recently.

Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways. (Psalm 119:37)

This can be applied to so many different things, but in this context, it convicts me of the way I spend my time. Is my time spent on things I consider valuable or things that I consider worthless and insignificant? A quote that has always stuck with me since I heard it is from John Piper:

One of the great uses of Twitter and Facebook will be to prove at the Last Day that prayerlessness was not from lack of time.

I am often frustrated with the fact that I will choose to spend time on things I consider insignificant rather than things that give me life. The prayer in Psalm 119 is that I would turn my eyes from these worthless things and find life and life to the full (John 10:10).

I also often choose to step away from social media when I find myself battling with loneliness. It’s strange, really, because when you look in to my life from the outside, you would probably think my life is full of people and full of joy in those relationships. But I can still find myself often feeling lonely. And most often, this is in direct correlation with that amount of time I am spending on social media. Donovan often reminds me of the time that I told him how lonely I was feeling as we were driving to spend time with friends. Social media has a way of inundating my life with hundreds of shallow relationships in a way that leaves me feeling like I lack depth with any of them. And deep, loyal friendships have always been extremely valuable to me.

I also believe that social media exposes us to much more than our hearts can bare. In our own personal lives and the lives of those close to us, there is enough tragedy. However, social media exposes us to the tragedies of hundreds of other people. And that can be overwhelming. Without this kind of technology, we would not be so aware of deaths in the families of friends we went to middle school with. But it keeps us that connected and exposed to much more sadness – and for me, it’s hard to bear the weight of all the tragedy that I see.

And lastly, I need the reminder that social media keeps people connected, but it rarely offers any depth. Is it so helpful to have, so I can keep in touch with my family on the other side of the world? Definitely. But does it allow them to really know me? Definitely not.

If you rely on my Facebook feed, you may see something I’m eating, something funny that Ellie is doing, a few snaps with silly filters, and a couple meaningful thoughts sprinkled in there. What you don’t see is when our weeks are turned upside down by illness, and we’re spending sleepless nights trying to keep fever under control. You don’t see the sleepless and helpless hours as our hearts ache with a sick kiddo once again. You don’t see our deepest hurts, our deepest fears, or our deepest joys. You see a very shallow perception of our lives, but it doesn’t allow you to truly know us. And my hope is that if you love us and our family, that you want more than a few posts and photos on a social media account.

Last year, I realized I was reading a lot – it was just that I was reading random status updates from people I haven’t seen in decades. So I redirected a lot of that energy to reading books instead. I received a lot of feedback about how I read a lot, but honestly, if you consider how much you may actually be reading throughout the day, you may not be so surprised to see how you might be able to redirect both that time and energy. It really wasn’t too much of a change or challenge.

I’d be remiss not to mention that one of my best friends, Kort Marley, wrote a book about how to utilize social media in intentional and healthy ways. Here’s the link if you want to grab it and give it a read: Navigating the Digital Sea. I found it extremely helpful.

Do you ever have to step away from social media? If so, what are your reasons for doing so? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Raise your hand if you feel like the well-being of a tiny human (or humans) is resting on your shoulders? Seriously! One thing I did not expect about motherhood is the exhaustion that comes from worrying about the every need of another person. What are they going to eat for breakfast? Does their morning snack have any nutritional value? Are they tired? Do they need a nap between this activity and that? Are they learning their letters? Their numbers? Their fruit? Can they identify a plum?!

Sigh. It’s tough work. Talk about some mental fatigue.

I’m reading about Hannah, the mother of Samuel, in preparation to teach at the monthly women’s gathering at our church. Here are a couple reminders from her life:

First, “she was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord…”. Let’s remember that in every bit of anxiety or despair or moment of distress, our first response should be to pray to the Lord. This doesn’t look pretty always. It says that Hannah wept bitterly. I don’t know about any of you, but I can certainly say that there have been times where I have prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly. He is our loving Father; he can handle our emotions. Don’t feel like you have to get yourself together before you meet with the Lord. In your distress, pray to Him.

Second, trust Him. I constantly have to remind myself that GOD. IS. IN. CONTROL. Pull yourself together, Lauren. After Hannah prays, it says that she “went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad”. God hadn’t yet answered her prayers. She doesn’t know yet that she’s going to be blessed with a son. But after she prays to the Lord, she goes away and her face is no longer sad. She no longer carries the burden of her barrenness, but she has left her circumstances in the hands of God. And her hope is in Him. Plus, she ate, and I feel like that’s something we can all enjoy.

Third, respond with worship. I don’t want to miss here that Hannah also responds in obedience. When Hannah prayed for a son, she told the Lord that if he blessed her with a son, she would give her son back to him to serve him. And she does just that. I think it would be really easy to throw a bunch of promises God’s way and then conveniently forget them once He gives me what I want. But she doesn’t do that. She remembers, and she responds with grateful obedience. And she worships. This time, she prays a prayer of exultation and glorifies God.

Mommas, life can be difficult. Or should I say, life certainly IS difficult. But remember, we’re not alone. Jesus promised us that he would be with us “always to the end of the age”.

You’ve heard me talk before about how busy my life can get. I’m not sure it’s as busy as you think it is, but nevertheless, it is busy. Along with a full time job, I’m in school, I oversee a women’s ministry, lead a home group with my hubs, and mother one of the best and most challenging one-year-olds around. It’s easy when you have so much going on to feel like you have no time at all. But is that true?

I’ve found that my busyness can become an excuse. I like to think thoughts about how I have all these dreams but no time to pursue them. But is that really true? If you survey the amount of time I scroll through Facebook or watch TV… Is it really true that I’m too busy to do the things I want to do?

I want to do a better job at living in the margins. Dreaming in the margins. Loving in the margins.

Listen, there were several years when my husband and I believed that when we had kids, I would be able to stay home with them. But life changed, the plans we had made did not happen, and when the time came, the reality is that the plan for me to be home had to change too. But just because I have to work, or have chosen to tack on school as well, does not mean that I can’t read or write or pursue dreams. In the margins.

Leading the women’s ministry at my local church is part of this pursuit. Sure, it would be easier to do if I wasn’t working full-time as well, but it’s something I love to do, it gives me great joy, and so I do it – in the margins. And if I really survey my days, my weeks, I think I will find that my margins are a bit wider than I like to think they are.

Busy women, do you have things that you love to do? That you dream about one day doing? Take a look at the margins of your life. Is it possible that maybe, just maybe, you can still do those things you want to do even while you still do the things you have to do? Don’t let years fly by without surveying your time and finding those margins that can be squeezed for all they’re worth. Even if it’s just to find that little bit of time you need to rest and breathe in deep. Don’t let time slip by as you agonize over your responsibilities and miss all the margins that can be filled with life-giving soul-satisfying pursuits.

Like I told my friend Courtney a few weeks ago, “Cheers!” Cheers to living (and dreaming) in the margins.

I’ve got some thoughts that I just keep rolling around in my head that I need to sit down and get into blog posts. Between work, school, the best toddler in the world, thousands of household chores, and oh yeah, we’re moving…. I just can’t whittle out the time to write.

But today, I must have heard or read something that I just can’t shake. I don’t remember what started me thinking about this. And ultimately, it’s led me to some major repentance.

I’m type-A, a rule follower to a fault, and it feeds a major issue with self-righteousness. I do a pretty good job at making it look like I have it all together (most of the time). I’m not telling you anything I haven’t repeated a thousand times before, but under this hard I-can-handle-it-all exterior, I have some major issues with fear that are becoming more and more like anxiety. It’s even tougher because I feel like it conflicts with the hope and faith I have in my God. Why would I be afraid when the worst thing that could happen to me was taken care of Jesus Christ on the cross?

O, death, where is your sting? (1 Corinthians 15:55)

But today, I saw it. An idol. One of many, I’m sure…

Self-preservation.

The truth is, I have come to want to preserve myself, my health, my little perfect family, more than anything. More than anything. And because I know I can’t truly control this, I have major fear that my idol will be taken from me, and I won’t be able to preserve myself or those I love. My fear and anxiety are being fueled by my idol of self-preservation. If I can just beg God enough to keep me well, I’ll read, I’ll pray, I’ll do all the right things, if He can just keep me from suffering.

Yuck.

Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. (Matthew 10:39)

The type-A self-righteous me likes to think I have it all together. Until I remember, that I have zero control, and then I panic. BUT. The One who is in control is good, He is loving, and He is kind. He uses suffering to display His glory, and I have to repent of my idol of self-preservation. It’s scary to me because I don’t want trials, and I don’t want suffering (we can be honest, right?). But, God is good, and “we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

I will still pray for Him to keep me and my family healthy. But I want to rest in knowing that He has preserved my life eternally.

He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, the LORD has spoken. (Isaiah 25:8)

 

I feel compelled to share a bit of my heart and all it’s messiness through this season.

Life is anything but quiet right now. When my my baby was nine months old, I decided to go back to school, still unsure as to why I was even going back. I tacked on night classes and all-night homework sessions to an already crazy schedule. I also refuse to sacrifice the time at home that I do get with my daughter, so until she lays her head down at night, I push away all the reading and studying and homework I have waiting for me to soak up every minute that I can with her.

Some days are easier than others. Some days, I’m glad to go to work. I am definitely glad for the provision, I’m glad for practical things like the benefits, I’m glad to have a routine. I’m thankful to get up every morning, to get dressed, and to head out to do a job. I get to spend my days with other adult women, some of them moms themselves, some of them grandmothers. They even tolerate the thousands of pictures I beg them to look at of this little being that I get to call my own.

But some days are hard. Some days I feel like it is taking every bit of my energy to hold back the flood of emotion that’s sitting in my throat. I want to raise my own kid. Other moms get to raise theirs. This is not fair…. And here comes the messy.

See, I’ve always worked. I’ve always enjoyed working. And I always thought that work would be a given even once I had kiddos. It was a no brainer. But there’s something I didn’t prepare for, something I didn’t know would happen.

I had a feeling I never expected.

I read an article today written by a medical surgeon turned stay-at-home mom. Here’s the link if you want to read it. Here’s what she said: “I never anticipated the fierce, visceral, heady, unruly, terrifying love I would have for my children. The allure to minister to them in every moment, to guide them and teach them in the Lord’s ways, was palpable.”

Yes. That’s the feeling I never expected. I didn’t prepare to war against the intense longing to be with this child that I have grown to love so deeply and fully. How could I have known?

Some days, I can do it. I’m good, I get it. But other days….

Other days, social media floods me with reminders of what life could be like. Days spent with my kid. Getting stuff done around the house, drinking coffee, reading books, helping my baby learn to walk, to talk, to count, to read.

Some days, I want to be the one to lay my baby down for her nap. I want to be the one to feed her lunch. I want to be the one that’s there when she takes a tumble. But I can’t be. I have to trust other people to help me raise her. (They are all a blessing!)

Do you know who did all the laundry this weekend? My husband. I had finals.

This is my season.

But I’m in this season because I’ve been called to it. God is faithful in this season, and he has strengthened me through it. I’m trying my best to walk through it as gracefully as I can. But if I had to be honest… sometimes “gracefully” looks like a dirty cry on my late drive home from school. And if I had to be really honest, if I can step back far enough to see the big picture, I’m still really glad and full of joy. This season… it’s hard, but it’s still good. And the best part? I’m not alone.

“I am with you always, to the end of the age.” – Jesus

(To the stay-at-home moms, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you are able to do that and what a blessing it is that you get to be home with your kids. Your perfect meals and adorable crafts put me to shame. It doesn’t matter how many hours I spend at home, I could never make being a mom look as cool as you make it. You have so much to be proud of.)