Here I Raise My Ebenezer

I love my birthday. Like, love it so much I used to make Eric celebrate the entire month. When he would ask why, I would reply "Why wouldn't we want to celebrate that long for something as amazing as me?" Hello, Leo ego, party of one. :)

I have felt like I've been at a crossroads for awhile and my birthday has been a catalyst for some deep thinking, which again as a Leo is not one of my favorite things to do. I'd much rather laugh and have a good time on my birthday than sit around and think deep thoughts. But I digress. 

I have believed for some time that God has called me to do extraordinary things. What those things were, I had no idea, just that they were going to be amazing. Change people's lives amazing. Not mundane things like potty training and toddler discipline. And some days it feels overwhelming, the smallness of these things compared to the grand things I think I should be doing. I'm not saying raising Nora is small. I know that it's not. But it's the daily grind of setting limits, of modeling behavior, of trying but failing to be wise and patient that feels monotonous. To quote a famous song, I feel like I was made for so much more. It's hard for me to reconcile that maybe raising Nora is my extraordinary when it feels so ordinary. 

I was recently reminded me about Ebenezer stones. One of my favorite hymnal verses is from "Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing".

Here I raise my Ebenezer

Hither by thy help I've come

And I hope, by they good pleasure

Safely to arrive at home

I have always loved this verse and the imagery it evokes. A physical representation of "I'm still standing by the grace of God." My friend reminded me of the importance of taking the time to raise an Ebenezer, to remember where we've been and how far we've come. Because if we don't, it's easy to get bogged down, to get stuck at a crossroads. To forget the hard things and little things we've overcome. And we can't really move forward until we've acknowledged where we've been.

So I am erecting my own Ebenezer here. Because until I acknowledge how far God has brought me, I am impeding Him from taking me further. And whether that means doing extraordinary things or hard, ordinary things, it's time to move.

There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in

Dear Nora,

As I sit and try to put my feelings down about the last two days, I'm overwhelmed with emotions. So many thoughts and feelings and I'm afraid I won't be able to articulate them well.

Yesterday was a hard day for me. This is not the future I've dreamed about for you. But it is the future a lot of other people have dreamed about. And so it goes in this beautiful, wonderful country that we are blessed to live in. I take solace in the fact that our hope is not found in the leader of our country regardless of party affliation, but in the never-ending grace and love of God.

Today was a better day. I've had honest and uplifting conversations with two amazing women (Lauren and Summer, you are the wind beneath my wings). I've been encouraged by the hundreds of thousands of women and men and children who marched today to say that love is better than hate. That bigotry, racism, and misogyny will not be acceptable from anyone and that we won't be silent when we see it.

If I'm honest, I've had a hard few months. I have been disappointed again and again by Christian brothers and sisters. Not because we disagreed, but because they found it acceptable to disparage people they didn't know. To call people pathetic snowflakes. To tell people that they were worthless, uneducated whiners who just need to grow up. To rationalize behaviors that if they were discovered in someone in church leadership would have meant counseling at best and the loss of a job at worst. To decide the cause of Christ came second to being right.

I want to believe it will get better. That us adults can get it together before you are old enough to ask me why we didn't. That we can begin to have conversations that don't have a right and a wrong, but that allow us to experience each others' point of view. But it starts with me. And it starts with you. And this is how we are going do it, my brave and fearless one.

1. We love God. We love His people. We love our neighbors.

2. We take the time to get to know people and their stories. We are more interested in knowing them than being right.

3. Jesus sought out those who were oppressed and marginalized. So will we.

4. We will be light. It's scary out in this darkness. It feels oppressive and heavy and like our little bit of light won't do anything. But it will.

Your given name is Eleanor, which in Greek means "bright, shining one". So little one, I hope I raise you to shine. To burn so bright the love of God cannot be questioned. That to know you is to know His grace, His mercy, His justice. May this verse be planted in your heart and take root.

"What does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." - Micah 6:8

I love you dear one.

Mama

Coffee is always a good idea

Since becoming Mama almost 2 years ago, I've struggled to find myself in this new world I'm living in. Pre-munchkin, I was a fun loving gal who loved to laugh, eat and drink good food, listen to good music, read books that had nothing to do with sleep patterns or eating habits and generally just living it up. Post-munchkin, I find I'm not that fun to be around half the time, I still like to laugh but these days it's most likely to keep from crying, food is optional and usually whatever I don't have to cook, The Wheels On the Bus keep going round and round my head, and I can quote word for word approximately 57 children's books. 

And yet there are glimmers of pre-munchkin Jeana. Usually after I make the erroneous decision to have coffee or sweet tea after the witching hour and find myself contemplating the universe until the wee hours of the morning and composing letters and speeches that would bring people to tears and making amazing playlists on Spotify. Hence this blog. I have always found solace in writing. In getting my thoughts out. And I much prefer typing to actual writing. And if I don't put them here, my husband may start wearing ear plugs. 

Lately, I've become intrigued by the idea of self-care. (thanks Becca!) And I've realized that for me to regain some sense of self, some pre-munchkin Jeana, I need to write and share it. Mostly because the overlord I birthed could care less about my thoughts on the nominee for Secretary of Education (so. not. qualified.) or why I'm intrigued by Whole30 but the thought of giving up dairy gives me nightmares. 

And who knows, this may fizzle out just like the other two blogs I started, but I need to give it a shot if only for a little bit of normal in my whole lotta crazy.