Finding Him In The Mess of Motherhood + Marriage
I'm learning to find Him in the mess that is motherhood and marriage. The mess is beautiful much of the time, but it is still a mess. It is still chaotic and hard and challenging. It is still messy. A beautiful, imperfect mess.
I used to spend a lot of time reading my Bible. Not in any arrogant lady-ta-I'm-better-than you way; simply in a I Love Reading His Word sort of way. I read it in the mornings and sometimes on lunch breaks, when I worked at the bank. I read it in between emails and ministry dates when I worked for the church. I read it after dinner and before bed and in the middle of the night. Sometimes it was out of duty and chore, but mainly and mostly out of love and hunger and thirst.
I'm a journaler, too. I journal. I have a sweet leather journal with creamy white pages, edges frayed and all, filled with words and prayers and processes from my brain and heart. I have notes and memories scrawled into those pages, tears staining areas where words failed, and passages of scripture processed by pen.
It was a way I found Him, unfailingly, He would meet me in the still and the quiet.
While we were engaged and learning the beginnings of one another, while we were newlyweds and enjoying the bliss of the honeymoon months and years, while we were aching and longing to become mommy and daddy, as we waded through fertility treatments and autoimmune diseases, loss and sorrow, grief unfolded, and then adoption and pregnancy after loss. In the stages and seasons, in the chapters of this story before 2016, I found Him steadily and consistently in His pages and in my journal, hours on end spent together in stillness.
But now. Now I have two babies; one is freshly one and the other is just 7 months. I'm a wife to a grad school student who also works part time and shares the night shift of babies with me. I have writing deadlines and a photography business. I'm working on a project resembling a book to be. The hours on end in stillness and silence with Him are at a halt and I am learning to be okay with that.
Some mamas get up an hour before their littles, but I can't. I am up feeding faces all night long, changing diapers, swapping babies with my husband, barely surviving til morning. There is no way I am able to wake up unless a baby is screaming at me to do so. Im one of those MOMBIES they talk about and write blogs about and drink wine for.
I'm learning to find Him in the mess that is motherhood and marriage. The mess is beautiful much of the time, but it is still a mess. It is still chaotic and hard and challenging. It is still messy. A beautiful, imperfect mess. Because we are here, earth, instead of there, Heaven. But He is still there right smack dab in the middle of it.
The other night I spent some time in the pages of my Bible and I scrawled some words into my journal. Once a daily devourer of His word, now a daily devourer of cheese and chocolate. But really, on most days, I read the same truths over and over and over again because they're plastered on my walls all over my house as a steady reminder.
What was once word-studies and long hours of sitting in silence is now a constant cry for grace amidst diaper changes and feeding mouths. It is now finding Him in the long, drawn out, seemingly-never-ending sleepless nights, that will end before I know it, where I'm begging Him for patience and gratitude. I am finding Him in all the cracks of our disagreements about what our kids may or may not choke on, in setting apart time for counseling because its good for us, and in the generosity of so many beloved people who help us continually.
I mess up a lot. I can be rude. I can be unthoughtful. I don't shower as much as I should. I'm a flawed human being. I continually rediscover how unlike Him I am, how impatient I become when tired is tugging, how selfish I can be in our marriage and catching myself thinking that my time is more valuable than his. Now is a time of less scripture studying and more of finding Him in the grace of undeserved gifts, in the mess that is marriage and motherhood. In the humans I live with, I care for, and I love with all that I am. They are precious. They are worth. They are His.
He is in the perpetual pouring of grace, the freedom of forgiveness, the discovering of gifts in the small moments. The small moments of diaper changes, wiping mouths and hands, sweeping up Cheerios (or not), tickling babies, washing a million loads of laundry a day. It's not glamorous or shiny, it's not perfect, it's not brag-worthy...but He is there.
I'm so humbled to live this story and walk this journey and find Him in all the moments. Especially in the hard, very human, sanctifying ones. Because that is where His grace heals and saves and blesses most: in the hard and in the human moments of life.
"...the riches of Gods grace which He lavished on us. With all wisdom and understanding.." Ephesians 1:7-8
Where are you finding Him?
Will you join my team? All you have to do is subscribe! From there we will be more connected than if we are social media pals (which I would still LOVE to connect with you there). I love to check in with my team, see how you are doing, be available for prayer requests, and also you have the "in" on giveaways!
[No longer] A confused introvert
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for – and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool – for love – for your dreams – for the adventure of being alive.
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
For the longest time, I was so confused by my entire self. Growing up, I was labeled an extravert. I accepted it and moved on, certain that that is what I am and how I have been made. But as I have gotten older and grown more into myself, I have found myself wondering if that was a big fat lie. I used to go to movies by myself and a few of my friends wondered if I was depressed or crazy, when in reality, I simply wanted to see a movie and didn't think to invite anyone.
I love people. I love humans. I love people. So when in a group of people, my heart aches to show people that by talking with them. I ask questions or answer theirs, I engage in conversations and do my best to let whoever is in front of me that they are worth my time.
And then I am drained and ready for a three year nap.
If given the opportunity, I would jump to be paid to read and write for the rest of my life. In a cabin in the woods? Pick me, pick me! [But there is this mission I am so committed to..] I decided I would place myself in the category I created "Confused Introvert" long ago. I was certain this was the place for me, because don't we just need labels and categories? It makes life so much easier [scofff]. My friends are convinced I am an extravert, so I let them believe what they want. Bliss.
My sister-in-law sent me one of those little freebie online tests to take, so duh, I took it in between editing two sessions of photos. LOW AND BEHOLD. I am no longer a confused introvert! My test results made my heart happy. I am a ISFJ-A whatever that even means, I already forgot what the letters stand for, and this is a snippet of what the authorities said:
"Naturally social, an odd quality for Introverts, ISFJs utilize excellent memories not to retain data and trivia, but to remember people, and details about their lives. ... ISFJs' ability to connect with others on an intimate level is unrivaled among Introverts... Oftentimes they don't actually enjoy managing others, but this can be one of their greatest strengths.."
My life has been forever altered and I feel so cured of my confusion. Obviously these people are professionals because they stated to me nearly all that I believe of myself. I think that you must go and take this test. Emily and I read up on each other's because, well, we are true friends that love knowing one another better. She is a gem.
So here it is! The personality test. It takes a good 10 minutes. Will you tell me what you are in the comments?!
HAVE A HAPPY TUESDAY.
The Last Month of Pregnancy…or as I refer to it…The Last Billion Years Before Your Baby is Born…
I am pausing my birth business (Doula + Birth Photography) and my Brenner Birth Care website is expiring soon. SO I thought I would save this hit-of-a-post and share it with you too!
It is my complete honor to introduce to you Josie Corliss. She is...one of the most hilarious human beings I have ever known. Also, she is wonderful at this thing called getting pregnant. She discovered that even though you have a vasectomy scheduled...you can still actually get pregnant. Free tip for ya. I on the other hand, have never been pregnant and have no way of possibly understanding what it is like to be at week 35 and wish your baby would just walk itself out of your body while asleep...she on the other (now we have two other hands...3 hands) hand has plenty of experience with this. So I asked her to share. You're welcome.
The Last Month of Pregnancy…or as I refer to it…The Last Billion Years Before Your Baby is Born…
There is, in my opinion, a very specific design to the last month of pregnancy. Having now been to the end of pregnancy four times I am convinced of this. That design is to make you miserable. You thought pregnancy wasn’t that great before? It’s about to get even more un-greater (yes I’m aware that’s not a word). This is on purpose. You are about to face one of the most mentally, physically, and emotionally challenging moments of your life (delivering a child through yourself), and the best way to make you ready? Make you so miserable that you will literally beg for it to happen to you.
Here’s a little bit what the last month of pregnancy is like:
Sleep: You can no longer sleep. Any sleeping you may be able to get is achieved through a pile of pillows bigger than a mountain and most likely involving a couch or recliner. You had heard from all your friends about how babies never sleep. Why did no one say anything about the last month of pregnancy? You were counting on this time to stay caught up on sleep to be ready to care for your infant. What gives? Training my friend, training. As mentioned before I am about to have my FOURTH child. What this means is I haven’t slept well since 2006. I was (maybe still am) a person that loves sleep. I am here to tell you, if this is your first child, that this last month is the beginning of a very long period of time when you long for sleep like you long for the weekend on Mondays.
Eating: Remember how eating used to be easy? Now most likely you get either heartburn or acid reflux just looking at tomato sauce. Or any other food that is flavorful in any way shape or form. What little sleep you may have been able to get will quickly disappear with a poorly timed slice of pizza. You are alternately starving or full after what feels like one bite. If it wasn’t for the starving part you are pretty sure you would just give up eating.
Dressing: Putting your underwear and pants on becomes some Cirque du Soleil-esq contortion act. Sometimes requiring more than one try. And shoes? Don’t even try to wear shoes that require a tie or a buckle, it’s not worth it.
Feeling the baby: Those cute little fluttery kicks you felt in the early part of pregnancy, take a sudden turn in the last month. It begins to feel like something out of the movie Alien and you are convinced your baby is in fact going to claw its way out of your belly.
Cleaning: It seems that every.single.blessed. house chore requires you to bend down. With your increased back pain and stretchy front ligament burn, these chores begin to sound like some form of torture. Once again though you are going to get a help from that design because you will suddenly be compelled to clean every nook and cranny of your house that you swear you’ve never even seen before. You will be on your hands and knees scrubbing your kitchen floor which suddenly can’t get clean enough with a mop. You will pay for this, and most likely regret it sometime in the next hour to day when you suddenly feel as if you have done 400 jumping jacks followed by a 10 mile run. Your waddle becomes extremely pronounced to where even the grocery store checkout lady looks at you sympathetically.
Speaking of grocery store checkers…somewhere in your last trimester random strangers will start saying things like “Oh looks like you will have that baby soon!” with increasing frequency and fervor. If you are like me, you start getting these comments about month seven, nowhere close to your actual due date, so by the time you’ve made it to two or three weeks away from your due date you have heard these comments approximately 700 times and have given up on the perfect witty comeback you were hoping would come to you in month seven.
All these things, one at a time, really aren’t that big of a deal. Together though they build and work together to make you feel willing to Google every possible wives tale about how to naturally induce at home hoping to get that baby out SOON. Here’s the deal though: remember that design? These things are here to push you to be absolutely ready to endure labor. Mostly because you are pretty sure labor doesn’t last forever. You may change your mind in labor, but at this point you are sure it seems like a short period of time. Getting though that last month of pregnancy is hard, but it’s supposed to be. You are embarking on one of the hardest journeys in life. Parenting requires so much selflessness, this last month that you spend being uncomfortable in your body almost every moment, will be your last few moments before you spend the next lifetime being uncomfortable in your heart, trying to balance the struggle of parenthood. This process begins the transition you will endure in more mental ways than physical when you do have that baby and while YOUR body is no longer keeping you from sleeping or eating what you want, your baby will. It’s painful in a new and different way. If this is your first time around let me give you some advice. Don’t be in a hurry. Easier said than done I well know, but seriously you are about to find out what hard really is.
Instead of Googling every symptom you are having, that you are sure means you will be or are currently in labor, take a nap. Go to the movie. Take a long, really long, shower. Get a pedicure. Read a book, oh for goodness sake read several books! Go out to a really quiet restaurant and eat your meal slower than you ever have, I mean I know at this point you can only eat about five bites, but take those five bites really.really.slow. Take a walk and appreciate the sounds of nature, pretty soon you’ll be taking those walks to the sound of a baby increasingly getting fussier and making you regret your decision to spend thirty minutes getting ready for a ten minute walk.
It’s okay to not love these moments. It’s okay to wish you weren’t pregnant anymore. However, try to be patient, try to understand that what your body is enduring is by design. Those aches and pains and Braxton Hicks are your body preparing, getting ready to do the most miraculous thing it ever has. You probably won’t enjoy it, but be present with it and let it change you in the ways it was designed to do.
The machine of busyness-exhaustion
I want to be a Mom.
So badly, I want to kiss little toes, blow raspberries on chubby bellies, smooch thunder thighs, and pour orange juice into my coffee as creamer because, well oops, I'm a tired zombie. I know, we are young and we have years and we have all of this life ahead of us, and please stop telling me 18 things to do before we have kids...my heart is called to Wifery and Momma, and that is that.
For me, saying those six words is scary. To write them is terrifying. To admit them is horrifying.
There was a day when I didn't think I would want to be a mom, for fear of messing them up so bad that I would have to pay for counseling rather than a college education.
I fear the day I wake up and realize I have been a busy-mother, filling our family's life up with so many things that we cannot see clearly or think clearly or live clearly. That our purpose and mission shifts from a pure heart to a busy heart ending in bitterness. I do not want to wake up and realize I have created more monsters of busyness, that I have perpetuated the machine of false-satisfaction.
I want to pull myself out of that machine. I'm tired of passing out my time like Halloween candy.
Loren is nearly 25, I am just 23. We ourselves are babies in the grand scheme of life, but time isn't slowing. Ghandi said that there is more to life than merely increasing its speed. But as we stepped our little lives into this big journey of adoption, I see that I have increased our life's speed ten fold. That I have taken on job after job (I counted and I have 6 part time jobs, SIX), filling every inch of my calendar with tasks and to do's and meetings and lists and things and things. Our society and culture perpetuates the deceit that the busier we are, the more important we are. The more stress we can handle, the better character we must have. The more responsibilities on our shoulders, the better the world is.
I call its bluff.
That is just as much deceit as the false notion that money is happiness.
Busyness is not success.
Busyness is not importance.
Monday, Loren and I drove to Newport. We set aside Mondays as our "Sabbath," our day off, nearly three years ago. But one of the part time jobs I have taken on has been stealing hours on Mondays. AKA: I have allowed it to. So we skipped town and said, "SORRY, we're not home. Out of service." Our drive to the beach was quiet, without many words spoken. My mind was prayerful and processing, trying to figure out what I have done to our life.
How do I keep getting caught in this cycle? Why am I so addicted to DOING? Why do I still believe I have to earn my salvation, my status (whatever that is...I'm a college-drop out, an ex-CNA that barely used her license, a house cleaner, an apartment dweller, a crazy plant lady)?
The instant we are filled, our first impulse is to be useful, to be kind, to give something away (Sabbath, Wayne Muller). But the moment we empty that fullness, pour it out unto others, and do not decide to fill ourselves back up..we cling to ourself, we hoard our love and our kindness, we frantically attempt to hold onto anything we can grasp. When we are running on empty, we become bitter and exhausted.
Bitter and exhausted and always fighting for more time is not who I want to be; its not the kind of mom I want to be, its not the kind of wife I want to be, its not the kind of human Jesus calls me to be.
So as Loren and I continue to take steps through this journey we all call life, we have decided to keep talking about this. To keep trying to cut ourselves from the addiction-machine-of-busyness, no matter how painful it is. Relearning to say no, to pray before accepting heavy responsibilities, to cutting back on stress. We must not feel guilty or shameful for spending an evening at home, without someone over. Or for saying "no."
I don't want to be someone who is so busy that she is deceived about her importance. [Embarrassing].
I don't want to be someone who checks her email instead of simply sitting with her husband, her family.
I don't want to be someone whose home is never clean because she is never there to tend to it.
I don't want to pretend that I am more important than I am. That the world will stop if I say "no." That my worth is derived from how full my calendar is.
I want to be a woman of peace, joy, freedom. To me, those women are the most beautiful, life-giving, Jesus-like women. I crave to live freely, laugh more than every now and then, to spend time in my home creating a safe place for others. My hope is to build new life-giving habits before our family tangibly grows from 2 to 3 or 4; I know we can't possibly have it altogether by that time, but can we have goals? I crave to give of my heart out of abundance, not emptiness, not out of bitter-exhaustion. To give of myself from being filled up by Him; in the quiet intimate moments of the morning light and through the afternoon slump of the day.
This isn't news, nothing we haven't known. Can we figure out how to dance this dance of life? How to work, pay the bills, live without busyness, and yet still be generous with who we are and our time and our gifts and our hearts, giving of who we are? How can we live life with a margin?
I am convinced we must make our way back to the true Sabbath. Sabbath isn't just one day off...but time set apart multiple times a week, daily, maybe for a few moments or for an entire day. Resting our hearts and entire self into His hands. Filling our selves up full of Him.
Rest was a precious ointment to Jesus, is a gift from Him. He made disciples, healed, taught and spent time with people...but just as often He sent people away, disappeared without warning, dismissed those in need without explanation, retreated to a place of rest and prayer. [See: Matthew 14:23, Luke 5:15-16, Mark 1:32-33, 35-36].
Jesus didn't wait for work to be finished or for everyone to be cared for. He paused in the middle of work and retreated to pray, to rest, to be filled by his Father. Jesus's wisdom wasn't muddied with busyness.
I want to learn from Jesus. I am certain we will find rest for our souls in Him.
Join me?
WE'RE ADOPTING!
I remember sitting on my bed on 28th street when I lived with my now sister-in-law and talking with Loren on the phone about adopting. We were in the simple phase of dating long distance and talking about our potential future and we both agreed that we would adopt a few babies to raise and love and learn from; we would build our family via adoption. We knew we weren't the saviors in the matter.
Since the day we said "I DO" in front of 200+ people almost three years ago, the conversation of adoption has continued and grown and become something so much more than a conversation - it is our current reality. We are so many things right now from thrilled to nervous to anxious to bouncing up and down to selling everything we don't "need" to scared to praying on our knees...all in the last 30 seconds. As we called our immediate family members over the last week to let them know that THIS IS HAPPENING, a few of them were brave and courageous and asked us really good questions.
Questions that you may have and that we will lay out flatly and plainly and as honest as possible right here for you. Because we know its often uncomfortable to ask, and when we don't ask what we want to know, we let our minds run and assume things that are often so far from the truth. That being said, I will answer some frequently asked questions at the very bottom of this post for those of you who want to know our deepest and not so dark secrets.
In January we began scouring the internet for the million and one ways we could go about this journey of adoption. THERE ARE SO MANY DIFFERENT ROUTES. But we landed on one and we are excited to take you along for the journey!
May 11, 2015 we hired Susan. Susan is an adoption consultant through Christian Adoption Consultants. She has already been well worth the investment and we are barely two weeks into the official process. Susan is very important to this journey and you will most likely see her name here and there throughout the process. She is our guide, our advocate, our cheerleader, and our legal-master. AKA, she assures us that we are not doing anything illegal on accident and she assures that we are taking all of the right steps, as well as noting any precautions or major risks. Susan is a gift.
We have chosen to go the route of US Domestic Infant Adoption. This means that the baby we have the privilege of raising will be born somewhere in the United States and will be 6 months or under. This route will cost us around and up to $35,000. Yes. The cost of 3 really nice cars. And it will be so worth it. Fees regarding adoption are big and real, but we are not purchasing a child, we are paying legal fees just as you pay fees via a hospital/midwife if adding biologically.
There are a multitude of grants that are specific towards adoption which we will be applying for as soon as our home study is finished. Speaking of our home study, that is the very first big step! That process has officially begun and it is many things frightening and nerve wracking and exciting. We have sold so much of our random things that are unnecessary, clearing out our second bedroom (which is our actual nursery), and reorganized all of our storage! Talk about refreshing.
YOU GUYS. We need your help! And your neighbors help and your great aunt's help and your cousin's help. This is a miraculous thing we are joining God in, walking this road of adoption, and we cannot do it alone. We need you, you are important to this Team. We are kicking off our fundraising with what we call The Puzzle Fundraiser. It is personally a favorite idea I have ever seen, mainly because your name will be plastered all over our puzzle for us to remember forever.
You are the pieces of this puzzle!
And we need every single piece to make this puzzle complete. As you purchase pieces of the puzzles, you are integrating yourselves deeper into our story than we could ever understand. You are leaving marks on our history and family, building yourself into our baby's life.
We ordered this 720 piece puzzle of a photo I took in Austria and a favorite lyric that is from a song that is our heart's anthem during this process; this will be hung in our nursery. We are "selling" each piece for $25. Your name will be written on the back of each piece that you purchase (how cool would it be if there was an entire corner with your name on it?!) and once the puzzle is complete, we will put it in a double sided glass frame to showcase all of the people who made this adoption possible.
We know this is HUGE and giant and asking a lot. But we thought why not kick off this fundraiser with big goals and trusting in His ultimate provision?
How it works:
1) Decide how many puzzle pieces you want to purchase to financially support our adoption fund.
1 puzzle piece = $25
2) Click on the donate button below to give securely through PayPal
-OR-
Donate via check. Email us at nataliekbrenner@gmail.com and we will send your our address to mail in a check.
3) Watch the adoption puzzle come together on our blog and see your name be recognized. We will build the puzzle as you donate the pieces.
Lord willing, when we finish this puzzle, we will be just over half way funded. Anyway you support us matters and counts.
QUESTIONS TO BE ANSWERED
Q: Are you adopting internationally or domestically?
A: Domestic infant adoption is the route we have chosen! We are pursuing this through Christian Adoption Consultants.
Q: Girl or boy?
A: We are wondering the same thing and dreaming of both! Maybe one of each? #winkyface
Q: Are you sure you don't want to go through the state? It's free.
A: Yes. We have done extensive research and are choosing this route. It is quicker and smoother, less risk in having a child taken out of our home once placed, and there is a greater chance of receiving a newborn - honestly, mainly because of selfish reasons.
Q: Is your only reason for adopting because of infertility?
A: No. Since we were dating we have dreamed of adopting. When we began our marriage, though we knew the possibility that my body would be a struggling one to conceive and carry life, we still believe that one day it will. And if it doesn't, that is a separate issue for us. Adoption is not a second option, or our back up, it is simply part of the journey we have hoped for. It hurts our hearts to know that this has been and may be some people's perception. We wish we could go out for coffee with each one of you and share our sheer excitement.
Q: Are you giving up on having biological children?
A: Absolutely not. We still hope to create Baby Brenners with our DNA. But like we said, adoption is not a second option, it is becoming a part of our life. Both biological and adopted children are our desires an will be "our own real children."
Q: Do you have a bunch of money saved up? Are you worried you won't have enough?
A: No we do not have a bunch of money saved up - we had the exact amount down to the penny to hire a consultant. From there, we sold a lot of unnecessary things in our home to apply for the home study; the amount for that was exact. Everything so far has been down to the exact penny provided for, no more and no less. So no, we are not worried that we won't be provided for -- God is bigger and clearly leading this.
Q: Are you too young for this? Why not wait a few years?
A: We have one life to live and we are not promised how many days are given to us. We are confident in our love for Christ as the foundation of our marriage and family. We believe we have a healthy marriage (joke's on us if we dont) despite how incredibly messed up we are. We both desire children, we both want to grow our family, we both feel called to step into this, no matter how unknowledgeable we are in parenting. You can't possibly be ready to parent, so let's just go for it. We have peace.
Thank you for taking the time to read this and join us in this journey! If you have any questions, don't hesitate to email us.
Graffiti Grace
We strolled the last few streets in the Czech Republic and I noticed her ferociously scrubbing the bottom of a building wall. Painted creamy white, nearly egg shell, I wondered why she was even trying to remove the paint that was stained into her building.
The only sensible way to remove it was to cover it up with fresh paint, bandage it, pretend it did not exist.
Berlin drowns in graffiti.
At first glance, graffiti ruins the beauty of what was meant to be seen. It demolishes the designer's plan, frustrates the one who believes he is in control. Graffiti leaves its mark, the maker's mark, claiming itself to be remembered for as long as it is visible.
Sometimes the marks of graffiti remain visible for an entire lifetime. Sometimes it is impossible to forget and completely demolish the mark.
Graffiti, no matter how ugly or offensive (or beautiful and lovely), is built into the stone. We cannot fully and completely remove graffitin art. We can paint new coats on top, bandaging the thing we deemed as unworthy to be seen, but soon enough, more graffiti will replace the fresh coat of pure paint.
Graffiti is inevitable it seems.
Even on a wall so rich in history, so important to a country.
Graffiti on the walls of our lives are disguised as vandalism. We cannot remove the graffiti, the unwanted art being painted so violently or silently, that is being etched into the stone walls of our lives. No matter how gravely we despise the graffiti, no matter how unplanned and unwanted, the story is being painted upon us and we have little say in what it looks like.
We do not craft the way of our own journey, no matter how severely we feel entitled to.
Though we do not choose the color or image of the paint plastered into the parable that we live, we do have the freedom of response.
Some respond with fresh coats of paint, attempting to bandage and cover up the ugly and unwanted. Others ignore the graffiti completely, pretending it does not exist; while others add to the graffiti, numbing ugly with ugly, pain with pain. Some embrace the paint as art, the damage deemed as refinement, and make something beautiful of it.
Not always does one jump to seeing the beauty in the art of graffiti, the graffiti grafted into the glimpses of life, disguised as vandalism but residing as grace. It takes practice and discipline to honestly and immediately see pain as grace, graffiti as art.
I will not pretend that I see all of the graffiti etched into my journey as beautiful art; not yet anyways. I accept that one day, [some day, whether near or far], I may look back at the scribbles and doodles and irrevocable incisions imprinted into my heart and see beauty. I may marvel at what once ripped me to pieces and broke me in half. And then in half again. But I am not yet at that place of beautiful brokenness, charming wholeness.
That place of constant delightful goodness is freeing and light, joyful and attainable. I know because I once resided there so carelessly, so freely, so easily and naturally. Confidence assures me that we will be there again someday. Fear tells me I should pretend I already am. Integrity begs for honesty.
So for now, I will walk the road and peek into the puddles to see reflections of the sky so blue and clouds so silky, soaking in the small gifts that I am able to honestly see, while the walls covered in graffiti escort me to the next chapter. I believe at the end of the chapter [or maybe not until the end of the story], I will come to the end of myself. And at the end of myself is the opening of the hands, which leads to surrender. Surrender ushers in grace.
The graffiti walls lead us to grace. Somehow and somewhere, there is always grace in the graffiti.
Life isn't all cappuccinos & pretty buildings + Rothenburg recap, Germ vol. 3
Life isn't all cappuccinos (that are even Natalie-friendly) and pretty buildings that make you swoon. But Europe is.
Rothenburg ob der Tauber proved itself worthy of the title One Of The Most German Cities Ever. All of its buildings were basically original and perfectly German. The place was a dream, our stay was wonderful.
"Grief is like caged fear. And if you let enough tears come and not be afraid, the tears can wash away the walls, and you will breathe again. It will hurt. You may never fully recover." -Ann Voskamp
This trip has been a gift of slow paced thinking. No work, no meetings, no rushing, no real to do's or to dont's, no editing photos, no cleaning the toilet or laundromatting. I love my life at home, very much so. It is nothing short of blessed; but having a break is also nice. The only rushing is to trains or buses, but that's fun, adventure like.
I have asked Loren almost everyday if he would still like my face if I got a hoop in my lip. His reaction remains the same: unenthused. So then I inquire about dreads, something I have always loved, and his reaction is the same. Guess I will remain dreadlock-lipring-free. Having my husband see me as cute is important to me, obviously.
We visited another church while in Rothenburg ob der Tauber. This church is over 800 years old, or something crazy like that. To say that these old churches silence my soul and calm my spirit is an understatement. The stone statues of Jesus and Mary and His disciples always bring my heart to its knees in awe. I cannot help but stare up at them, as though I owe them something. I am thankful for the reverence that is welcomed, the deep thinking that is inevitably stirred, the honest experience of His calming peace and presence, letting me know that He is here. To be candid, I have been having a hard time recognizing that as Reality. I'm not worried or doubtful, just honest and stubborn on this Life Road. And I have this confidence that He can handle it when we are honestly seeking; that He welcomes honest hearts of wrestling if it means close knitted souls in the end. Being in these ancient buildings makes it easier for me to see He is here, because His fingerprints are everywhere. For centuries, He has been here, loving us so patiently and freely. These ancient churches make me feel small and insignificant, remind me that I am but a vapor, and yet He sees me.
Can you imagine sitting here every Sunday to worship? It totally happens - and the organ is played.
The thing about traveling is that you leave to do lists and loved ones at home to pause life and see the world, but your heart and past come with you. And if you cling too tightly to your past, you have no room for your present. My mind has slowed and I've finally given myself permission to begin processing Certain Present Things again. Allowing myself to feel what I numbed for the two weeks leading up to this trip. Yes, this trip is full of amazing buildings and peaceful walks and dreamy towns and thick accents and romance and so much bread to covet...but it also contains a process of grief. Bittersweet. And it is certainly nice to have space and a little time to do so.
It is confusing to be on such an amazing adventure and have this weight of lostness clawing at me, residing as a monster where my heart and stomach should be. I battle feeling downright soul-ugly, but then He reminds me that I'm okay, I am His.
We're walking through severe loss on a road that feels quite lonely; I am a foreigner in a land with people I do not know and I almost feel free to express to myself what I truly feel. I didn't realize how caged I am. Caged inside of my own Self.
Yesterday morning we made some sweet potatoes, eggs, avocado and tomatoes for breakfast, jumped on a train and headed to somewhere busy. I grabbed us some McDonald's cappuccinos and met Loren by the bus - our schedule was changed and we had two nights to spare before heading to Berlin, so we got on a four hour bus ride to Prague, Czeck Republic.
Cheers.
Tchuss, Tubingen. Hallo, Rothenburg: Germany vol. 2
Germany is beautiful. Graffiti is everywhere, but I barely notice it in comparison to the unique buildings and cobblestone roads. The people here are generally quiet and seem to be good at enjoying present life. They seem present. Aware. Almost always soaking in whatever scenery is before them. The part of Germany we have been in this week (southern) has a lot of little villages hidden in nooks of forestry, with rivers or creeks running through them. Water is my favorite.
There are castles in many of the towns.
God and I have been having honest conversations. He is shifting things around in me, changing chunks of my soul, rearranging my thinking. My priorities are slowly and slightly shifting and it's scary, because change is not comfortable, but it feels right in my heart.
Aside from a certain continual ache within my being that I will not pretend doesn't exist, this birthday was by far the most memorable. Loren took me to Cafe L for fruit and cappuccino, then on a dreamy paddle boat ride down the river in Tubingen. We sat and we peddled and we laughed and we smiled and we chatted and we enjoyed the peaceful calm.
Loren got us another Air B & B in for the night in a little village named Buhl. The 25 minute bus ride was beautiful; we drove through country fields of horses and green grass and yellow flowers and farm homes. Pulling into the village center we asked the first man we saw if he knew where a street was; he quickly pointed his finger and we were on our way. It wasn't long before the majestic castle shouted, "here, here, your host home is here!" Our eyes locked with sheet joy and we took a few more steps forward before Jurgen stepped around a tall square bush and exclaimed, "You must be Loren!" (Except it sounded like Loraine, which was wonderful). His English was nearly perfect, lacking a heavy German accent. Jurgen was jolly.
The front yard was pure bliss and I wondered what the inside of this gigantic German home looked like. I wanted to adopt these friendly people as my aunt and uncle. And this village as my own. So the room and everything about it was perfect:
Jurgen encouraged us to try the German restaurant down the cobblestone walk, around the corner, and through the gate. So we did and we ate the best pommes. Among other yummies things.
I absolutely relish the amount of time that must be put into gardens. Everyone always has flowers, everywhere, all of the time. So much life. Here are some photos from our walk:
In the morning, the birds and sun greeted us equally as wonderfully. Monika made us breakfast which we devoured happily.
We hopped on the Friday morning bus back to Tubingen to meet Tony - and off to the castle we went.
Saturday we sprinted to our bus which was wonderful because I haven't ran in way too long. (So about that marathon training..) Grabbed some cappuccinos and boarded trains to the very northwest part of the Austrian alps.
We first stopped in a small island village on Lake Constinence, Lindau. This town was cuter than cute. When walking out on this ledge to the lookout, one view was of the snowy alps and the other of a gorgeous town.
Next we entered Bregenz where the gandala awaited to take us up to the alps. From the top of the mountain you can see Switzerland and Germany (and Austria) and the curvature of the earth.
This morning we worshiped with a bunch of Germans. This church is over 800 years old.
We said tschuss tschuss to Tubingen today, which means we also had to say goodbye to our dear friend Tony.
After a four hour train ride, our Air B&B host picked us up at the station and dropped us off down in the village center. We were now in the village that I have been most looking forward to - Rothenburg. This town was the little place my good old cousin Walt Disney based Pinocchio off of. It ALSO was where parts of the Deathly Hallows was created. HARRY POTTER, PEOPLE!
I thought Buhl captured my heart...but this town, this town has stolen my heart forevermore.
It's 12:30 am and I am exhausted. Thanks for checking in and following along on our great adventure! Be praying for us, for our hearts to be close to Him and one another - that as we travel, we would continue to be selfless and caring for one another.
If you have any questions, fire away in the comments! I will do my best to answer them within a reasonable amount of time.
Tschuss!
Oh child, we're all foreigners: Germany vol. 1
It's my birthday! Today we celebrate the day my strong momma literally pushed me from the dark and into this world, the light. I feel extra loved today as we sit in Cafe L while sipping a [caffeine free, dairy free - don't judge me] cappuccino at a long wooden table with sun warming me.
Last night Tony [long time friend], Max [German student, Tony's roommate], Loren, and I sipped Spanish wine and toasted Happy Birthday, Gubertstag, at midnight -- apparently you celebrate into your birthday here. I found myself sitting among 3 amazing men while they sang to celebrate me in two different languages, and the appreciation was real. I won't soon forget this birthday.
So much has happened since Saturday the 18th at 6 am. We traveled a good long while...the hours calculated, I am unsure. The flight from Seattle to Frankfurt was 10 hours and sometime during those hours we gained half a day and were 9 hours ahead. When we landed at 11 am, my watch read 2 am.
We made our merry way to the baggage claim, brushed our whites pearly, and set off for what we thought were simple directions to our first stay [Vilma, Air B&B]. Vilma has been writing in German and sticking those words straight through English translator; this is all good and cherries until google translates walk [street] names or tram stops into English. Exhausted and ready to sleep for years, we didn't think to take notice. By the grace of God we got off at the correct tram stop. As we released tourist-like semblance, an African refugee woman took us under her wings and stepped in as godmother. "Your host lives on a cemetery?" She asks bewildered. "No, no, she simply put the German through google translation and that is what it came out as. Do you know a street named 'Forest Dig?'" Shaking her head, she was clearly flabbergasted and wonderfully delightful. As we slowly paced our way, Loren mentioned something about us being foreigners. That is when she lulled the now legendary, "Oh child, we are all foreigners."
When we found Vilma's home, it was similar to finding gold while panning in the river. She welcomed us with open arms and warm hugs; it was as though we were old friends visiting from ages past. Immediately we were encouraged to remove our shoes and step into her slippers. It's the German way, we learned.
Our stay with Vilma in Frankfurt was perfect for our jet lag recovery. We went on long walks through the nearby parks, which were full of pigeons, trees, flowers and benches. I could see myself living there very easily as I fell in love with the simple neighborhood, welcoming to families and a quiet lifestyle.
Our room at Vilma's was on the third (of 4) small floors of her home; windows big, inviting sun, fresh tulips, and birds showing off their gifts of music. She invited us to sit on her back patio in the garden area and sip [carbonated] lemon water. When Vilma sent us off on our cheery way, Shem quickly put together an amber heart necklace, which I later learned is a huge act of kindness and love in the Lithuanian culture [where Vilma grew up].
Tuesday we traveled to Tony [one of Loren's best friends] who currently lives in Tubingen. This town is pure romance for us tourists. Cobble stone roads, old cracked buildings, absolutely breathtaking. It reminded me of Brugges, Belgium. We explored the Tubingen castle, an ancient monastery in a near by village, and old town.
Tony invited us to join him for his worship night Tuesday, put on by his student group, Unterwegs, which means "along the way." Their office is great - in the basement is where worship was held, but they also watch movies and have a kitchenette down there. The main floor is open for students to hang out and use their wifi, sip coffee or tea. Upstairs is the office. So much light through the windows! We also joined Tony last night [Wednesday] for Cafe English at one of the pubs. Basically, it's an event Unterwegs hosts to invite students to - it's a time to practice their English and learn about American culture through games likes scategories or trivia. Our table had 4 German students, all studying American Studies. It was an odd moment to realize that their entire degrees are based off of and learning about our American and English culture. Are we that interesting?
Tubingen's mark platz.
I met a new friend, Jasmin [pronounced Yaz-mean]! She contacted me via this lovely space of mine awhile ago and lives in Tubingen. Jasmin is wonderful and beautiful and all things lovely. She even loves Jesus! It's wonderful meeting people face to face. Turns out, she sees our friend Tony nearly everyday. This world, so small. Our God, so big.
Check out this hillside we ate lunch on before heading down to monastery in the next village over:
Sadly for me, I won't be posting this on my actual birthday. I forgot my phone in Frankfurt which has been a mixture of not mattering at all and yet a hassle at times, since it carries vital information and some fun photos of travels. I also forgot my USB card reader. Therefore, I ordered one on amazon because amazon owns the world and it should be arriving tomorrow, along with my phone, in the mail! What what.
Loren is about to take me on some boats....I know, so romantic, but I want to add in some first impressions I wrote down along the way. Impressions are just that: impressions that are subject to change.
Ready? First impressions:
1. Everyone we have asked for help from has been welcoming and kind; though not all of them have been able to help because of language barriers, we did not leave their presence with sour tastes.
2. Germany loves fresh flowers! There are flower stands everywhere, along with fresh fruit. It's refreshing. In nearly every home we have been in or seen, there have been fresh tulips. Even in the windows, there are masses of flowers. I love the flowers and fresh fruit stands.
3. We walk way too fast. We noticed that we are just going going going, while everyone around us seemed to be taking it slow, strolling to their destination and enjoying their time walking.
4. Take your shoes off right when you walk in a home and leave them by the door.
5. LACE. All the lace. I loooooove this part - in nearly every window there are no blinds, but only lace or sheer fabric. It is elegant and quaint and I plan to bring some home as a souvenir for our home. Because why not.
6. A lot more people smoke than we are used to, which is fine, just an observation. also, you can smoke in restaurants if you're sitting outside. Same with alcohol - there is no brown bag law.
7. America is so far the only country I've been to that has toilet seat covers - not Germany, England, Belgium, France, Canada, Mexico. We are really worried about our butt skin and not the environment.
8. There are never paper towels to dry your hands...just odd blowers that disguise themselves as long metal sticks that are attached to the facet.
9. The public restrooms toilet paper isn't locked up...they trust us.
10. Graffiti.
11.The sleeping patterns are as follows: bed time - 1 am to 2 am, wake up - 9 am to 10 am.
I adore my husband and am so honored to be a foreigner with him. He has been practicing his German for awhile now and is doing a superb job of getting us around as well as making sure I eat non-poisonous foods. Well!
Off to boats on the river and new exploring. My soul is full.
Tschuss!
The letter link up on refreshment
It did usher in something; like the clear crisp mornings we have been enjoying this January, your job transition has cleared up our foggy attempt at serving humans after you already spent a full day pouring yourself into dangerous and troubled youth...and it cleared up the weight you feel resting upon your heart. Cleared up as in made known - your calling to serve Corvallis Church was affirmed. As your hours transitioned from the Farm Home to serving this church, it dawned on me that we are a really good team. It became a new time of serving others, inviting in more people, meeting with more beautiful and amazing humans, but forgetting to see one another face to face. Our hearts were not being stitched closer as they once were; we were easily irritated with one another, and that bothered me. It hit me: we must spend sacred time together, just me and you and Jesus, or we will forget we are married and simply exist as a team. It's so easy to live side by side, working together and pouring ourselves out...all the while forgetting to stand soul to soul and see the most important human before our very eyes, forsaking intimacy.
Working together is beautiful and I have no words to explain what an honor it is. It is a rare gift that I don't want to take lightly and it knits us together in unique ways. I cannot imagine spending my time doing anything else right now - sitting side by side with you, praying with a couple or a hurting student or planning youth events and talking about ways others can see Jesus is my favorite thing. I mean that with all that I am. But like the bone chilling crisp air, I was reminded to my core how important time with you is. Time not in front of a screen or planning the next best thing. I want to set my cell phone down while we are together and in the car so I'm not distracted.
I crave to spend time face to face, soul to soul; playing games or praying or going on runs or taking walks or dreaming up life or sitting across from one another at a coffee shop...without our computers or books or a list of to-do's. It can be difficult to justify this as good time spent, when it seems we are together so often. But the sticky thing is, we are together with many others, often forsaking those vulnerable and intimacy building moments that are so necessary. So my dear, let us spend time together. Let us go on a date and spend a night away and play games together. Let us protect our marriage.
I'm convinced marriage is more fragile than we can comprehend and I don't want to forsake it. A fragile entity that must be handled with care, vulnerability, humility, integrity. It is a precious gift we should not neglect. So let us continue to chase Him together; let's be married and keep falling in love with one another by choice and out of that may our ministry and life overflow.
Besides. I like who you are. I like your humor and your heart and the crazy way your mind contains vast amounts of random knowledge. I like your smile and your crazy bearded face. I love that you chuckle crack yourself up; I also love that you think I'm funny. I love your heart for people and your desire to reveal Christ in a selfless way. I like you. I want to be with you, I want to know you and be known by you.
With a heart craving yours,
Natalie (runt)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Christmas: beautiful. painful. joyful. exposing.
We have decided to stay in Corvallis, cozy in our city, on Christmas Day. This year, we are skipping the I5 Corridor, the emotional roller coaster that Big Days bring and beginning something new, something I hope will be beautiful.
Or so I thought that was the answer.
Pastor Gerry preached about my internal struggle with Big Days and Big Seasons - the fight for balance; it's like Pastors are real humans and know what it's like to be a human... I believe that explains their speaking straight to our hardened, broken hearts.
Last year Christmas Day, we drove up and down the I5 corridor, hitting 3 houses full of family and flew out of town the following morning at 6 am. Exhaustion? I'm sure we all felt it in some form. Don't get me wrong: I love every single member that I have the privilege of calling family. I love them immensely. Some are loud, some are reserved, most are crazy, all are loving and thoughtful, more generous than I would ever ask. They're flesh and blood, these bonds last forever. But cruising around the state in 24 hours visiting dozens of beloved human beings accompanies a lot of emotions. So Loren and I decided that we would stay home this year on Christmas Day, celebrating family throughout the month. I was sure this would remove any roller coaster of feelings; but emotions are bound to have their way in this girl.
Why not bounce from one extreme to the next? We are determined to figure this Christmas thing out. The entire month of December has become a Christmas celebration; it's been warming. We spent two days in a beautiful cabin on the river with my dad's side of the family. We made ginger bread houses and everyone ate prime rib (I, of course enjoyed white turkey). We soaked in heat by the fire, took a family photo or two, and enjoyed the presence of one another more fully than I have ever experienced. Loren and I chatted with my Aunt & Uncle all about running and marathons and trails and crazy adventures. It was what Loren would say, groovy.
But the reality that we live in a broken world; that most of our family have not experienced the very real freedom found in Jesus; that my family is not whole but is split up into fragments...the fact that bitterness remains and broken hearts have hardened; these realities still exist.
It was a beautiful evening.
We spent last Sunday with my mom and family. We spent time with a cousin, aunt, grandparents - our hope was to celebrate Christmas with as many beloved family members as possible, but not all in one day.
What will we do on Christmas Day? We will probably wake up between 4 and 6 am like the previous two years, wiping sleep from our eyes so quickly you would think there was bacon. This time around I plan to remember to purchase breakfasty foods before we wake up Christmas morning. Why not cozy up under grandma's quilt, sipping warm beverages, and watch a couple Christmas movies while cookies bake and cards are made to share with Park Place residents? Park Place is the assisted living community I spent two years working for. Park Place is home to many people who don't remember me, my memory has been lost in their diseased brain with Alzheimer's. But I remember them so clearly. I remember their stories, their hearts, their characters. I remember how many cream packets were dumped into Eleanor's coffee and to heat Lorraine's shower up past the temperature for boiling. I remember the sweetness of some who have passed and the bitterness of others who still live on, feeling trapped in their weak bodies. Most are simply existing and I wonder what their thoughts hold all the days long. Park Place holds a special place in my heart and we are blessed to take some simple treats and cards. Maybe we will carry this sort of tradition on and into the years of raising babies into children and children into adults. Our extended family is large in number, a multitude of hearts - we have plenty of members to visit throughout the entire month of December. SO why not share some of His love on Christmas with those who don't have many, if any, members to call family?
Initially, I thought this would cure all of my Big Emotions that Big Seasons bring. I thought balance would be found by skipping out on the normal chaos of Christmas Day. Though we do hope to make this more of a tradition, family throughout the month, the brokenness still remains. The pain and the hurt and the exposure to vulnerability still remains. Our brokenness still screams, our hearts are at risk, and this world needs saving. Spreading out Christmas, going from one extreme to the next, won't heal these hearts. Won't bandage these wounds. Won't restore broken families. Won't create balance.
But this season and every season, the same Truth prevails; the same Truth offers freedom. The Truth that God is with us, in the lack of balance. Emmanuel. The Truth that in Him we find freedom from anxiety, unforgiveness, and entitlement; the fight for balance. He is with us in our broken hearted spirits, He is rooting us on into His arms of safety, He is beckoning us as we scramble to spend way too much money, and He is restoring these broken hearts one stitch at a time. And that, that is beautiful. This life is beautiful.
Emmanuel.
What are you doing for Christmas?
PS: to any family reading this: I love you; I'm honored to know you, let alone call you family. It is my heart that gets all stirred up inside...thinking of how deeply I love you. Thinking of the brokenness that surrounds you and the daily battles you fight. You amaze me, family. Truly, you bring me awe. I have watched some of you face horrors untold; some of us have faced giants together. They are memories that last forever and tend to surface during these months. You are strong
By His Side: a letter
Dear Handsome Husband of mine..
You amaze me. Your heart is gold and can only get goldener (yes, goldener). Sometimes I am easily irritable, and for that, I am sorry. It is nothing you have done, but is simply one of my flaws. It is the curse of selfishness, the problem of this life. But let's move past that and celebrate something beautiful, significant...lovely.
I get to be by your side.
And you are by mine.
I am incredibly flawed, but I know that you continue to cherish me. I know that you will stand by my side as protector, friend, supporter, and husband through it all. Through sickness and weak broken bodies...through health and tickle fights. Through infertility and parenting and empty nesting, growing old and wrinkly...saggy, we will stand together. Through ministry and home making and whatever else we decide to pursue...Doula-ing and Photography. You are always rooting me on and you always will...it is who you are, it is in your nature, and I am beyond blessed to have you by my side. You are one of the most selfless beings I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.
Though you are imperfect (as all human beings tend to be), I will stand by your side through it all. That is what I committed when I stood before 200 some people and vowed, "I DO." Through painful days and heart wrenching months, I will stand by your side. Through poke wars (real ones, not on facebook) and weird voices and goofy toe points I will stand by you and smile. Some days I will be grouchy, and I apologize for that. Some days I will be exhausted, and I apologize for my lack of energy. But on those very same days, I will still proudly stand by your side. We are a team, Team Brenner. We are married and this is forever on earth, until death itself do us part. And that, my lovely man, is a cherish-able gift.
My husband, I am honored to be by your side. I am honored to make great leaps of faith with you; leaps like quitting your job so that you can pursue the calling God has placed on your heart to serve students with most of the time given to you. Leaps of loving others with a risk, dangerously. Leaps like welcoming a multitude of people into our home, our hearts. This thing we did, getting married, it changed us. It has taught us how deeply selfish we are and how deeply selfless we can be. It has taught us grace and patience, love and intimacy. It changed how we do life -- as we entwined our hearts together, our lives became one. Life will never be how it once was and that mystery is beautiful. Our vows were not conditional upon our feelings...but an unconditional decision. For this gift, I am thankful. I am thankful to continue growing together as we keep our eyes steady on Christ.
By your side I stand, through tough months financially, knowing we have all that we need and more. Reminding each other that money is just money. By your side I stand, through tough relationships that help us grow, knowing we are being molded more into His image, even if painful. By your side I stand, as you learn to check your email and respond. By your side I stand, as you grow this beard as long as you can and moisturize it with beard oil. By your side I stand, while you joke and joke and laugh and chuckle and joke some more. By your side I stand, when you dance around and get your groove on in the grocery store. By your side, I stand in the deep and muddy trenches, and on the tipiest of tops in the mountains. By your side I stand, literally and physically...but also when you are not around. I stand by you and want to honor you. By your side I stand, through all of the difficult parts of life and marriage and family and things, I have committed.
My husband, I adore you. I appreciate your patience with me as I grow. And I am honored to be by your side.
Trusting is vulnerable & vulnerability is risky.
Refreshed and reset, yesterday was a gift.
Loren and I were given a mini getaway from some supporters; for this I am indescribably thankful. I cherish all of our little mini getaways. They offer us a chance to be me and him, and him and me, and married and have clear minds and remember that we are newlyweds.
Monday morning was spent reading and praying and sitting in His goodness while gazing across the beautiful mass of water that is named the Columbia Gorge. Our room is cozy; my favorite part is the fireplace, always the fireplace.
We love exploring mountainous terrains with no plan except to get lost in the forest. We drove around until we hit gravel and decided that would be a perfect place to park the car and start running, exploring. The path we started on was beautiful, even breathtaking. It was a wide gravel road with muddy pot holes, but was lined with green forestry.
About a half a mile in, we picked our eyes up off the ground and Loren pointed out a much skinnier path, hidden within the forest, about 20 feet to our right, with a creek running parallel. We had no way to get down to that trail except to crawl down the 15 foot mini cliff very carefully. My iphone photos don't do this place justice, but you can see the difference between the two trails, yeah?
The path was skinnier, narrower, a lot less muddy, rockier, windier, ruttier...and the beauty did not compare. The adventure that came with this path was thrilling, exciting, even breathtaking. At one point, there was a log laying over the creek -- that was the path given: a log. Instead of turning around or climbing back up the bank to the boring, wide, easier path, we did what we had to do. On my hands and knees, I crawled over this slippery log, praying to not slip and break my ankle. This path was made for others much more skilled than us, much more equipped than us. This path was made for adventurers and risk takers. This path was designed for those who trust the builder.
In this state I have found my heart in, I could not stop thinking about my recent lack of trust in God, in my builder. As we sprinted through the forest, my heart's song was "How majestic is your name, oh God." And I spent the hour consumed by His path. His path is narrower, less traveled (Matthew 7). His path is full of blessings and beauty and radiant joy. His path is more difficult, harder even ( John 16:33). He asks us to search for peace and work to keep it (1 Peter 3:13-17). He invites us to believe the best in others, hope all things, and be patient and kind -- even when it makes no sense. He asks us to forgive those who have hurt us, to pray for those who persecute and insult us, He asks us to be selfless...He invites us into a life of grace. So yes, His path is less traveled, a little more rocky, and full of obstacles. But the obstacles don't touch the beauty, the thrilling adventure, the joy that is inevitable.
My expectations of life are crumbling. My expectations of self fail more than every day. This has brought me down into a place of self pity and frustration: not pretty. But the problem doesn't lie in my failing of expectations; the problem lies where my source of life and hope have been placed: in expectations of self. In circumstance. Not in Christ. My source of hope and joy should never be placed or depend upon my self, my expectations, upon my understanding. Mike reminded me of this and has pointed me in a direction of freeing navigation towards Jesus. When Proverbs states:
Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.
I was reminded that my own understanding includes my expectations. So when I am depending on my own understanding and the expectations I have of self and life, and they fail...I then crumble. I crumble to pieces because I was depending on such fickle things. My heart cries for many things; my patience is being tested in many ways. (complaint, complaint, complaint: embarrassing, but honest) I had so many plans and many expectations that seem to have been crumbling. Subconsciously, I felt I had been failing at life. I know that these things shape me in mighty ways; I know that these things create an endurance in me that I would not otherwise have. I know that I have a deep well of compassion for many things, and this compassion would never have arrived had I not endured through...experiences this far. But that doesn't make the endurance any less stretching. Knowing that Jesus is using all of life to mold me into His image doesn't make life easy. But it sure makes life worth it, it makes life purposeful. It means that this is not in vain.
Discontentment has nothing to do with circumstances and everything to do with where my heart is placing Jesus.
A change of scenery, a new pet, a baby, purchasing a house, moving to a new city, a new job, a spouse...none of these things will truly bring contentment. They may bandaid our discontentment for awhile, but it won't be long until we are right back where we started: frustrated, uneasy, discontent.
As I ran through the forest, I was grateful that He is my Builder. Why? Because He is trustworthy. He has proven Himself trustworthy for generations, but also to me in my individual and very insignificant life. Lungs burning, inhaling the cold winter air, feet pounding on the icy ground...I could not help but think through the risk of trust. It once came so easily, trusting in my God. Trust in God implies that I will release my grasp on entitlement. Trust in God says that I am letting go, opening my hands, releasing the need to try and control. Trust says, "God, I am going to choose your lighthearted joy. I am going to look at life one day at a time, trusting that You will use my every moment of pain and trial and testing...my choosing to trust You...You will use it for Your glory and You will use it for others." Or whatever your case may be. When suffering and trials hit is when the rubber meets the road and we must ask ourselves, "am I ready to truly follow Christ and do as He asks, even though I have an excuse to live in sin, an excuse to wallow?" But this is perhaps the most important time to trust; this is where Christ is revealed. It is scary to trust, because in trusting we let go and are vulnerable - we are a target, a target for disappointment, to be let down. But it is important to trust, because when we let go and stop trying to protect our hearts, we find peace and freedom and joy unexplainable. It is important to trust because He tells us to trust Him, He invites us into this secure place of safety: His arms.
In His arms I have experienced safety. In His arms, I see life as an adventure, not as exhaustion. In His arms, I thrive and I am beautiful and I am a radiant creation, because of Him.
Join me as I begin at the basics again, of trusting in His goodness one day at a time.
I feel like a wobbly, trembling pony learning to stand for the first time...but I am ever so confident in my Master.
A Christmas Tree
Monday, December 1st, we drove to the Blodgett Tree Farm and picked out our best tree yet!
An old rustic saw, four hands, a lot of cheering later, and we had our $5 tree packed into Brett's truck. Praise Jesus for church community, because we don't have a truck and people in our church do...so therefore we share.
Loren and I went home and decorated our lovely small space our hearts claim as home. (Simple decor for small spaces). We trimmed a sliver of the trunk off to make an ornament out of. Somewhere we lost our tree skirt. So I walked my body over to Jo Anne's and purchased some plaid fabric to drape around the bottom -- this idea was most definitely inspired by my neighbor and friend, Kiley.
Growing up, I always planned on having classic, color themed, trees of "perfection." We had crazy trees growing up, overwhelmed with ornaments of shapes, sizes, and colors galore. They were crazy and I always wondered what was so wonderful about them. I always told myself I would not have a crazy tree, but one of class and order and theme.
HA.
What I did not know was the love of each handmade ornament and what it meant for our family. That each cotton ball glued to popsicle sticks symbolized hard work, creativity, and a thought out process.
Now that I have grown a bit more and have our own trees to decorate, I love the home made ornaments. In fact, the one of Ari made me cry when we got it in the mail...she is TOO cute. We don't have kids who bring a plethora of them home, so our tree features our niece's faces and homemade ornaments.
We also have 3 Starbucks cups from a student, Kyle. He gives us them every year - we were wondering if he realized he did that? We will see this year.
I read this post the other day about trees and how they are what we make them. But how life is also what we make it. I have been in and out of a funk (can funks last for more than a year?) so her words were a gentle nudge in the right direction. That when I am bummed and when I am looking down instead of out and up, I am making the conscious choice to stay in that place of funky-selfishness. And though I know these things, and knowing these things doesn't actually seem to help but make me feel worse, it doesn't always make it easier. But each time I have looked at our tree this week, I was reminded of that. I was reminded that instead of just staring upon it with exhausted and burning eyes, a slumping heart, I can look at our tree and be blessed by it. I can be reminded that it is a symbol of cheer, of merriness, of generosity. It is a symbol of joy, to me.
I love planning a day to drive out into the woods with a saw and my husband, pick a tree that won't fit in our tiny apartment but we make it anyways. I love watching Loren saw it to its last strand of tree bark, tipping it over and dragging its furry self to the truck. I love dreaming of bringing our kids out to do this, sipping hot chocolate, and maybe finding snow to sled in.
I know a handful of people who are skipping the Christmas decorating - they have great reasons that work for them. But for me, my soul would slouch. The mere act of bringing Christmas into our home makes my heart joyful. It isn't just for December 25th that I put these things out to enjoy; it is for the entire duration of their stay. It is the atmosphere that red, glittery gold, and green bring. Every time you look at your tree, be reminded with me: this is a simple green tree that you chopped down and literally put in your home. [Which is really weird.] But the symbol is that we are bringing life and merriness and cheer into our homes. We are bringing extra light and color and joy into our homes. I now see the love and the thought in the hand made ornaments; not the tacky crap that is glued together.
Christmas and traditions and our home are what we make them.
Our attitudes are what we choose them to be. Free or imprisoned.
Simple Christmas Decor for small apartments
I am finally allowed to listen to Christmas music! Not that I haven't been since October. But no longer am I shunned and shamed and told how horrible I am. And to that I respond: why not? Why can I not be merry and bright for more than 25 days? Why can I not associate Christmas cheer with the entirety of November and December, including Thanksgiving and how much I love that day just as well?
December 1st, we got our tree, we drove straight home, we unpacked the Christmas bin. Because we are such little toddlers when it comes to life together (just over 2 years), we have a single bin of Christmas decor and a single shoe box of ornaments. Isn't that wonderful? I think so. We also live in a cozy home that happens to be on the smaller side. Here are my nifty ways of bringing Christmas into an apartment, making it home:
DIY Picket Fence: stocking hanger $8 We bought floor boards for $0.25/foot at an old barn that is overflowing with...stuff. Loren cut the longest one into two 20'' pieces for the backing. Then we painted them with red spray paint, sand papered them, screwed together and walla!
My writing desk as my mantel.
I don't have a fun fire place or mantel to display all things cute: so I use the top of my desk!
The greenery is literally from the forest ground.
I made the gingerbread house for $3.
The santa that looks a little...sleepy?..he is from my grandma!
The candle was purchased last Christmas season on sale for $2.99 at Jo Annes :)
I also spray painted pine cones with gold glitter, and set them on old candle holders painted black.
Window welcomes I am all about welcoming the neighbors and passer by's with warm windows! So we added lights to our two windows that face the sidewalk. I also added a strand of plastic candy canes! $1 at the good ole Dollar Store.
Wreaths on the walls. Because space is limited, I use the white walls as much as possible! Also, thanks to Grama, this little beauty hangs above our kitchen sink and mugs.
Jo Anne's has their seasonal sales right about two weeks before each holiday. Which is great. So last year I purchased this little beauty for a whopping $1.99. Because their mega cute decor is spendy, I hung it up to spruce up my oven. No big deal, folks. We can be cheery for inexpensive! The use of towels and pot holders is widely encouraged by this gal.
Side table, simple decor, by the couch & blanket basket.
And of course, MISTLETOE. Because I love to have an excuse to stand in one place waiting for my husband to kiss me. I bought this beauty for $5 from a scruffy man off the side of the road. He was great, we are friends, this was his favorite, naturally I knew Loren would appreciate it.
Just saying, I like to decorate my bathroom. And this was the best way I could think of doing so with such a small space!
Again, tree clippings from our tree and the forest. The tins and vase I already had! Pine cones are a bag for $2.50 at Jo Annes. (I am their neighbor and current roommate). Also, towels are super cheap there, ($1.99-2.99)
Candles & gold accents in the walkway, on any ledge I have!
The wrapped door...totally did this. 12 feet of ribbon (at Jo Annes) was $4. I wrapped the door on the inside, hot glued a little bow heart together, and there was Christmas! Out front I have a welcome sign, greenery and red & gold ribbons in a tin, and three tree stumps with candles. We plan to decorate the apartment walkway with lights like last year!
As soon as you walk in or leave, you can grab (or set down) your hats and gloves! I have had this basket out for almost two months, since the cold entered our life. It sure helps when we are heading out in a flurry!
Well friends, the home is cozied and She and Him Holiday vinyl is almost always playing. I still need to set time aside to sit and knit and watch a few Christmas movies. Relax and soak in the cheer this holiday brings! Hopefully have some middle/high school girls over to bake and decorate some cookies!
How do you decorate for Christmas? What do you look forward to?
Officially a Pastor's Wife
I am officially a Pastor's Wife. It has been almost a week since Loren's ordination.
Before this extremely special Sunday arrived, I already considered myself in the category of: pastor/ministry wife. I would meet with the other two Pastor's wives weekly in the beginning of this church plant, Loren's title was a pastor kind of sort of, but mostly a "coach" or "shepherd" or "chief servant leader." But recently, Mike asked us if he could do the honor of ordaining Loren. All we needed was to set a date and invite his parents.
Ordination: appointing a [very imperfect] man and revealing his calling of shepherd-ship/pastoring in front of the church; extremely honorable and not taken lightly. That is my own personal definition.
Pastor Mike surprised us with a little slide show of his relationship with Loren over the last 6 (?) years. They met at Camp Winema long ago. Loren was Mike's intern the summer before this beautiful church was planted. (Also the summer we met). The church launched in October 2011, Loren went to finish up his BS in Preaching at Boise Bible College, moved back here in June 2012 ready to join the staff as the Youth Coach/Leader + any other ministries we felt urged to start. We were wed in August and the following October we launched our youth ministry! Since that time, a lot has happened. We still lead the youth ministry team, Loren and I both work part time outside of the church, and we live mainly on outside/church support (thank you, Team!!!). Loren has grown, I have grown, we Brenners have seen how terribly much we have to grow, we have grown as a church and as a ministry team. Corvallis Church is radiant and imperfect. Mike wanted to honor the time and sacrifice that Loren so willingly gives for this church; ultimately for Jesus. I don't want to mislead: its all for Jesus. But really, it's more than Loren's decision; we feel called to the mission of Corvallis Church right now. If we weren't here, we don't know where we would be. The only reason we live in Corvallis is for the planting and caring for this church. The thing is: it isn't about us, it isn't us, we live by His strength and the Life that He seems to quite literally breathe into us. I wish I could explain it.
Friends, though I already considered myself a ministry wife, this Sunday something changed - I was hit in the heart on a whole new level. Which, I did not realize was possible.
Just as Loren shared with the church (as I stood aside and cried because my husband has a heart of gold and when he puts words to it, my heart is actually ripped right out out and is being buttered with joy) that morning, this is not a light title. As he spoke and I stood, I was in awe that my life was occurring this way. I didn't plan this out. This is not a label to throw around like "beardy," which is currently Loren's thing. To be given this title of "pastor" is a big deal and we pray to carry it with honor and dignity and compassion and an honest pursuit after Jesus. But my friends, what came this week...this week I was reminded even more of seriously how fickle and misfit I am. I am so completely imperfect, down to my very most personal thoughts, down to my nerves and DNA. I am so dreadfully awful that I do not understand why God Himself would invite me into such an equation as this. He must have some big and glorious renovation plans to be making something out of me, out of us, and I look forward to the day where I can say, "Ohhhh, this makes sense."
Jesus has this way of humbling us. Reminding us how deeply we each need Him and how very present He is, ready to help.
As we met with people this week, invited new friends and already-friends into our home, it was very apparent to me how deeply I need to be altered. Sometimes this mouth has a mind of its own that seems so far away from my real and true heart. Or maybe my real and true heart is quite further away from where I would hope it is. Whatever the case may be, titles are titles. They do not define us, they do not usually instantly transform us, they do not (de)value us, they are not us. I am me, Natalie. At the end of the day, and during the middle and beginning, I am just another follower of Jesus finding my way on this earth. And Loren is also just another human., so in love with Christ and wants to share Him with the world; despite his very much introverted tendencies.
I am completely, down into my core, honored to be Loren's wife. Not because of his title, but because of his heart & life. Quickly following that honor is the privilege of being in ministry with him, serving and sacrificing to build up the church before our very eyes. Corvallis Church.
The kind of stuff I live for: This week we got to sit down with our Pastoral Team and dream about ways to bless individual families and people during this holiday season. Yes. That's right. We got to spend time praying over the members of our church and plan out ways we may be able to bring them joy, the reminder that Christ is on their team. This is the very best job: bringing joy and peace and best of all Jesus, to others.
And right now, I have the front seat to many lives. I will do my very best to cherish it as a jewel in my crown. Sorry I am so weird and say weird things. But really, I pray I soak this time into my being, learn more than ever, and fall down onto my face because I am confronted with the very real humanity of self. And lean hard into His grace and forgiveness. Also, if you could start praying for our future babies? There is this thing about some Pastors Kids. And I just want to love them so well, I want to teach them Jesus and His saving grace, not religion and rules and laws. Those Littles are in for an adventure.
To any Corvallis Church members who may be reading this: if you have had the honor (chuckle) of practicing your patience with Loren or I, thank you for loving us so well! You get to actually raise us as babies, it seems. I am so grateful to know you; forever this group of people will be close to our hearts - you've grown us Brenners since dating. We are growing up! Almost. Also, a lot of you hold a place in my heart, a place of Heroes.
Note to self:
When Before all else fails, humble myself.
Canada wrap up
Various titles this post could have had: Canada Wrap Up; Au-Natural Fall Decor $0; Cute Baby Boy Award; Gluten Free Thanksgiving Treats; Husband Welcomes Bride Home the Best Way Possible. SO you see? How could a girl describe this post in a small title? Has it really been only just a week since I have been back from the land of Canada? If there is one thing I do not understand in this life, it is time.
On a heart level note, I decided while in Canada that this verse from Corinthians must be my new anthem call:
For the Lord is the Spirit, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. So all of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord—who is the Spirit—makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image.
2 Corinthians 3:17-18
Monday the 13th was Canada Thanksgiving! We needed to decorate a little extra for the holiday, so on our mid morning walk to good ole Tim Horton's, we decided we would make an au-natural craft for our table piece and our door hanger. Straight from the walking path!
So this happened:
We laid out all of our goodies at home to see exactly what we snatched.
And we got to work with all that we had; we purchased nothing.
For the center peace: a glass bowl, candle, leaves. That was what we used.
For the door wreath, we used floss and tape. Why on God's green grass? Because that is what we had! We were obviously trying to be P31 wives.
Here is our FOUR STEP real-leaf wreath:
Too easy, friends. The putting-together part took us maybe 15 minutes.
Because this caramel apple crisp was so good that we ate all of it and left none for the boys, I thought I would encourage you to try it. Also, it is nothing different or special: simply Delicious.
Apple Crisp: 3 green apples, peeled & quartered Mix: 1 1/2 cup (gf) oats 1/2 cup dark brown sugar 2 tbsp butter 1 tbs coconut oil Put mixture over apples, drizzle caramel sauce! Bake at 350 for 30 minutes
Pumpkin Brownies: 1 box of gluten free chocolate mix 1 can of pumpkin 2 tsp pumpkin spice mix: bake: eat.
Sweet Potato Casserole: chopped sweet potatoes, bake in water for 20 minutes to soften take out, add brown sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, top with marshamllows! bake another 25 minutes at 350
Though my flight was delayed and I was the only passenger with my luggage misplaced, I didn't mind. I was just happy to get home and see my husband. I was excited to be held by his arms and snuggle with him on our couch watching the Cosby Show.
I will tell you what, though. Loren has always been the best at welcoming me home. Whether it be from a birth I supported as Doula (this happened this week!), from an evening away with some girls, or from a trip of some sort...he has always been so welcoming!
He buys flowers and welcomes me with notes. I never expect it, but he always does it and it is always such a treat. It is always such a gift. He picked me up holding a rose and Cafe Yumm which was perfect. Then when we walked up to our front door, I was welcomed with a plethora of notes. Inside was a bundle of flowers in an OWL COFFEE CUP. It's a vase, but it has a handle, and its big so he thought it would be a perfect coffee cup. He also had another bouquet of flowers on the table. HUSBANDS! Learn from this man. He is amazing.
I am beyond thankful that I was able to save my "allowance" (photography, pillow making, coordinating money) to visit H in Canada. But apparently Life wanted to slam itself back into me a little harder than I was prepared for. Let's make this Canada Thanksgiving thing a tradition?
Come visit me! I'm talking about money
Good morning and good day to so many good friends!
Today I am talking about budgeting! A few things I am touching on: how we live on an extremely tight budget, how we still save even with a low income, and quick tips to saving money immediately! It's not all fun. It takes discipline - but it's worth it!
I have the honor of guest-posting over at A Beautiful Exchange. Come on over, read my post and be sure you visit her beautiful blog. She is pregnant with Baby #2!
My Canada Adventure: 3 days left.
Did you know that ODFW stands for Oregon Department of Fish & Wildlife and that my mug is displaying just that? True story. Also, what is a true story is that my husband made me coffee at approximately 3:15 am and once again, deserves the Best Husband Award.
When we woke up at 2:30 am and left by 3:20 on Wednesday the 8th of October, I was certain I might actually die. But then I didn't and now it is Monday the 13th and I am healthy as a bean. Loren did the fabulous servant thing of waking up with me, making me coffee, and driving me the 2 hours to Portland Airport so I could get there in time to check my bag, go through customs, and board the plane by 6:20 am. What. A. Babe!
Also, the moon. It was so bright and so bloody orange, and I could not get a better photo than that with my little iPhone.
Long hallways + a full bladder don't mix well.
So, I was completely blessed by the breathtaking sunrise. Thank you, Jesus, for creating such wonderful gifts for us to enjoy. It is calming.
Also - The Fault in Our Stars. I cried on that plane ride while reading this book. It was that good. I have decided I must make myself read fiction books again.
I made sure that the man stamped my passport this time around. It is a new passport with a new name which means I don't have my stamps from Europe!
Naturally, the first thing I did when I landed in Canada was grab a Starbucks: caramel machiotto with soy, because I am on vacation and everyone knows that we must cheat our health on vacations.
The theme of this trip should be: BABIES GALORE.
What I dearly loved about this verse was that it isn't a question, but a statement. A statement that says our Heavenly Father gives us good gifts.
Hi, we are friends and we love to walk.
Should we talk about the absolute wonder of the photos above? I will let you soak them in. Fall. Brisk. Baby. Wagon. Pup (who is my actual nemseis, but I love her because she is my friends baby). Best Pal. Canada. Love.
Because I am not sharing a bed with my husband, I literally sleep on one half while my laptop, bible, journal, and knitting utensils sleep on the other half. I then wake up in the morning, roll over, and commence my time with Jesus as the golden sun peers in the window. Yes, it is a gift. A true, gift.
You're welcome.
I started knitting again. Canada always does that to me. No, Haley always does that to me. Did I mention, it's an addiction? Almost as addicting as Tim Horton's coffee.
Who wouldn't want flying utters as decoration for a coffee-ice cream shop.
The worst $17 I ever did spend, by the way.
Scarf: finished on the drive to the beautiful lake.
Leaves: crunched.
Baby: swung.
Strangers: captured. Their potluck smelled delicious.
I am certain that if I do not spend time in His presence, I will not feel rested.
He is the key to rest, as He calls me into His presence and Peace.
Thankful for His word and I fall in love with it, every time I gobble it up.
Last night was Round One of Canada Thanksgiving.
We enjoyed a huge potluck of Thanksgiving deliciousness at Haley & Marcio's friends house: the Penners. They are beautiful, have 3 girls and 1 on the way. There was a plethora of children and adults crammed into this town house and it was simply beautiful to be a part of the body of Christ in another country. I always love being reminded how big and how real and how tangible He is through His church.
Today is Canada Thanksgiving. I am thankful that God is patient with me. I am thankful for a husband who is in love with Jesus Christ, and pursuing Him at a cost. I am thankful for a husband who misses me when I am gone, and tells me. I am thankful for a perfectly imperfect church family back home that I miss when I am away. I am thankful to be a Doula and serve families during the most precious and intense moments of life. I am thankful that I am in Canada with my dear friend Haley, who literally saved my life 4 years ago, October 4th 2010. She would have woken to a cold, stiff, dead roommate had she not taken me in - true story. Traumatizing.
I am thankful for Jesus, who is ever so close to my heart, especially when I am weary and exhausted. That He loves me and gives me worth and places an identity of Belovedness on me.
Happy Thanksgiving, from Canada!
Pulling my head out & headed to Canada!
I'm off to Canada.
Last year around this time, I was riding the Bolt Bus from PDX to Seattle to Bellingham to Vancouver BC for $28. I then rode Something from the train station in BC to the airport and flew to Edmonton, AB, snapped this photo(<left) along the way, and was welcomed by this stud and his stunning momma.
That chin, though.
What's in Canada? My college roommate and very dear friend Haley. She has the cutest son who will soon be blowing up my Instagram. Rumor has it, she has a possible trip to Jasper or Banff planned. This girl is the best.
I have been forsaking my Jesus. My sabbath. My day of rest. I am gaining a deeper understanding of why God made "keeping a sabbath day holy, 1 day a week," an actual commandment. It is for our sanity, for our health, for our best well-being. I don't mean resting all day before the TV screen watching television or movies; I have never left the TV screen and felt empowered and rested. My brain is exhausted and stimulated after that. I mean resting in His presence, in His word, in His very real love for me. For you.
I have gotten myself into a a place of busy. Note: I have done this. Not my job(s), not my family, not my church, not my responsibilities. I could blame my hectic and chaotic life on those things, but the reality of the matter is, I said yes. I am the one who piles on All The Things. I choose my calendar just as I choose my attitude. I choose to forsake my Sabbath Mondays and this last Monday I was deeply broken by my decision.
What I had forgotten was that, not only does my sweet time with Jesus mean so much to me and my soul, but it's special to Him too. He longs to spend time with us.
>>See how refreshed I looked after last year's trip? That's what I'm going for. I was in the same boat - coming off of a ridiculous summer, in the middle of a busy fall {HEAR THIS: allllll good things, just a lot of things}, and left for a week to spend Canada Thanksgiving (which is on a Monday in October) with one of my best friends. I needed rest. Rest in Him found in Canada. I needed to forcefully pull myself away. Here in this wonderful and charming and SO JOYOUS photo, I was sitting in the park waiting for the bus in the beautiful city of Vancouver, BC. I was knitting. KNITTING. Simply sitting and knitting. I know. So P31 of me.
My life is no different from yours, or maybe it probably is. But the reality is, you can say yes to things or you can say no. There are some things I think I can't say no to. But really, I can. For instance, it is unhealthy to fill your calendar full of 12 individual coffee dates/hikes/dinner guests/meetings in the time frame of 6 days + regular small groups + services + oh right, computer work, and photography, and studying birth. It is this thing of pride and fear that it boils down to. Every darn time. I wish that it wasn't so, but it so is.
>>I like to think of the money I make in photography and wedding coordinating and pillow making as my "allowance." We are on a very tight budget, and I don't have a steady enough income from these things to impact an area of budget, but it brings me a spending allowance that I did not have. So, I saved my allowance and I am heading to Canada. Thank you, clients! Literally wouldn't be going without you. I know that I won't always be able to simply get on a plane for a week of my choosing and peace out, leaving Loren with a few prepped meals and a long smooch goodbye. But while I can still do this, I best be taking advantage of it.
We all have things pushing at our seams, begging for our attention, filling our calendar. We all live in the world where busy seems to be the norm and what we use to give us value. And that's just the thing, it feels like it devalues me. Stretches me so thin that ME begins to be a non-existent reality. In order to serve others well, we must make time to do things we enjoy. At our leisure. Not squeezed into an hour time slot.
When I bury myself into this lifestyle of scheduling coffee dates two months out (true story, so embarrassing), I become so selfish, so centered on me = bitterness, SO not Natalie. I am not walking in the Spirit of peace that I have access to; I am not choosing to be grateful in the small things; I am not soaking in this truly beautiful and ridiculously privileged life. Because I am go-go-and going and never pausing. And that kills me. It breaks my own heart the state I can put it in -- and I desperately want to pursue His freedom. He is so full of freedom and joy and peace. These things come by slowing down. Pausing. Being still. I am forcing my head out of the calendar and placing it in Canada to breathe and pray and get on my knees. To be still and soak in His goodness.
So. To all humans everywhere:
We are not called or made to live busily.
Our identity does not lie in what we do (or do not do).
We are commanded a day of rest to truly rest in His presence. To be built up, to fight the enemy's lies with His words, to soak in His love and grace and freedom. T0 literally bask in His love for us. Not to sit in front of the computer or television screen. To rest in who He has made us to be.
The world will still go on if you slow down and enjoy life, choosing joy, living slowly. In actual fact, I have experienced it and the world exists as a place of beauty. (Shameless plug, visit my A Life of Joy category)
To the women called into a full time ministry: you cannot do it all. You cannot meet with everyone, you should not meet with everyone; in fact, you we are stealing someone else's chance to serve, love, minister. Take some time, look at your schedule, and pray about what to get rid of. Pray for ways to point people to other women. I have done this 2 times in the last week and it has been a gift to each woman involved. Find something you love, and make a day for it. For me, I love making our home. So I am finding a day of the week set apart to do solely homemaking things; and really seeing it as a priority. Rest in His presence. Every day, have those times of focus with Him. Cry in His presence, sing, dance, rejoice...be YOU.
>>To you women in ministry: I am carefully and prayerfully crafting a new series just for us. My hope is that you would find encouragement in knowing you are not alone. That we can be honest and transparent and real, that we can love each other with honest vulnerability, and then go out and love our flocks.
I'm off to Canada to spend time praying and evaluating what Jesus has for me. I am discovering (over and over and over again) that selflessly denying my flesh is in the denying of my pride in trying to "do it all." It is saying no, no I cannot do that because I am incapable and I am human and I am fickle and weak. But He, He can do it. And He can do it through someone else.
Also. I already miss my church family and students and most of all my husband, so much. I am so much more a home body than I thought.
PS> on a side note, I seem to bounce between extremes of yes's and no's. If you relate, may I recommend a book? Books are great. Click on it to purchase.
