Pour over me...

“...I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”John 16:33

I’m not typically a fan of female singers.  I’m not sure exactly why.  It could be that their pitch is often too high, their voice too soft but I often catch myself skipping through my female counterparts and stopping on the men of music.  That is, until I find the girl with more “oomph” in her voice.  Possibly a little ruggedness, a little hurt, a little harshness...  When I first heard Lauren Daigle’s “How Can It Be” I remember pulling into the garage around one in the morning from work and just being in awe as I sat there until it had finished.  I had failed to look her up on iTunes until many weeks later after attending a concert she had performed at.  She was amazing, stunning really and she had this huge sound that came from this petite frame.  And even more importantly she continued to pray over us between her songs, calling for revival, for the Spirit to come, for change within us.  I downloaded her album that night.  I listen to it daily.  Every song is play worthy but one song in particular leaves me in tears and is my battle cry, my surrender, my life song all in one...

 Once and For All...

God I give You all I can today

These scattered ashes that are hid away 

I lay them all at Your feet

From the corners of my deepest shame

The empty places where I've worn Your name

Show me the love I say I believe

O Help me to lay it down

Oh, Lord I'll lay it down 

O let this be where I die

My Lord with thee crucified

Be lifted high as my kingdom fall

Once and for all, once and for all

There is victory in my saviors loss

and In the crimson flowing from the cross

Pour over me, pour over me

I lay it at your feet.  Show me Your love.  Help me.  Let me die to self.  Let me glorify You as my kingdom falls.  There is victory.  Pour over me.  Pour over me, Lord.  It’s an anthem of sorts.  

I sing it from the depths of my soul.  i scream it out.  I sometimes sob it out through streaming tears.  

Fear.  Humiliation.  Loss.  Longing.  

Missing old friends, old community groups where we got down to the nitty gritty...where we laughed, we loved and we ate some of the best food out there, missing weekly Driscoll sermons, missing Gideon, making mistakes in the workplace, worrying about how maternity leave will play out. 

You see, community group is this backbone for me.  It’s not just this thing that I do.  It’s where I get together with people who love Jesus like I do, people who I love and it’s what helps hold things together.  It’s not necessarily me bringing my cries to the group but taking what we experienced in the group and letting that lead me into a conversation with Christ, a deeper study, a richer soul.  I love Sunday mornings.  I love singing praise and worship.  I love scripture.  I don’t always love the themed sermons but I love the message.  But on Sunday, there’s no dialogue.  There’s no time for questions and answers.  There is no circling, holding hands, praying for fellowship and breaking of bread.  There’s no prayer requests.  No praises.  But unfortunately we have been out of group as our church suspends them during the summer and even in past semesters, either our jobs or vacation or sickness within the group has caused us to be absent.  So I long for those home group nights, those relationships.  I long for the things of yesteryear.  

....and there it is. The things of yesteryear.  Longing for those things that once were instead of living in the now.  

The joys of being a child.  Running around the trees.

Lately, I have been missing Gideon more and more.  Two of my friends have boys that are the same age as Gideon.  They started pre-K this year.  It was so sweet to see their first day of school photos yet it cut like a knife.  How would he have been in school?  How would he differ from Gabriel.  How would they be the same?  How would they get along?  I was thankful that Gabe was starting preschool so we could live in that moment for awhile and hold back the hurt of never experiencing so many firsts with our first the best we could.  

Enjoying the sounds of the chimes.  

Then thinking about him makes me think about our next and how will maternity leave work out?  Like all of Oklahoma women who do not have an EIB (extended illness bank), the thought of going without a real check for so long can wreak havoc on the nervous system.  Then a few days ago I was faced with the realization that I will also have to pay for my health insurance premium while I am off work.  Yuck.  Here I was just worried about paying for the regular list on my spreadsheet and now there is this added cost.  I’m not trying to gripe.  I am again thankful to have a job, to have insurance but I still worry.  

Then there’s work but that’s a whole other beast and a whole other blog post.  I love it.  I’m not going anywhere but somedays are harder than others and it can wear on you...like any job.  

So here is why I need community group.  Here is why I need Christ.  Here is why I have been screaming out these words as I drive to and from work, as I stand in the kitchen cooking and cleaning.   

Though I have worry, though I face trials and tribulation.  You have overcome.  You. Have. Overcome.

Help me Lord to lay it down.  Help me to live in the now.  Help me to let go of the bitterness that sometimes creeps inside.  Lord, let me die to myself.  Let me glorify You.  Let me seek You.  Pour over me.  Pour. Over. Me.  

He's back where he belongs.  

Whatever you do….

"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men"  --Colossians 3:23

My road to becoming a nurse practitioner started out in February of 1999, merely 3 months before my high school graduation.  My sister had her first son and he was admitted to the NICU for apnea.  He stayed there for two months.  It was there, standing at his incubator that my love for healthcare stemmed.  Previous to that experience, my career goal was always to be a lawyer.  God was good to give me another path as I sure do hate public speaking and drawing attention to myself but then again my husband says I make a good defense attorney.  And some days, I wonder if it would have been better had I gone that route versus the one I chose.  But I remember standing up at my senior tea and declaring to my graduating class that I was going to be a neonatal nurse practitioner.  I don’t really know how I even came about that title.  I definitely didn’t know any NNP’s.  I didn’t know a single nurse at all, let alone an advanced nurse practitioner.  Although I had met the physicians caring for my nephew, being the physician was never a role I saw myself playing.  Whether it be that subconsciously I didn’t think I could afford all of the costs of med school or it just wasn’t something I wanted to do, it never crossed my mind to be the doctor.  

I started my way from the bottom.  I became a tech while I was starting out.  I worked in nursing homes and the hospital.  When I moved back from New Jersey, I started my life at CMC.  This is where I met Dr. Coldwell and felt more of a true team than I ever had before.  Even as a tech, I was respected.  My limited assessment was important to the nurses and the physicians.  And I loved those kids.  But I continued on my path to becoming a NNP so I took an extern position in the NICU.  There was a particular doctor who made his bedside rounds and took the time to actually get to know us.  In my previous weeks, no one had even bothered to talk to me, let alone ask me my name.  But he did.  He also remembered my name when he saw me in clinical at a different site.  But he wanted to know how I thought the baby did throughout the night.  How have feedings been? Output? Vital signs?  I mentioned the infant slept with her eyes open and that prompted a Rx for eye ointment.  Then on day two, the same baby spiked a fever of 105.  Why?  He worked his differential with me at the bedside.  Amazing.  I was part of his team.  This is how healthcare should be.  Did I find fault in him for asking me my opinion as to what was going on?  Did I think he was incompetent because he just didn’t know what was happening?  No!  I found it rewarding.  But most of all I found it to be one of the stepping stones of my career.  This physician thought enough of the nurse (not me but the nurse at the bedside) to listen to her and ask her opinions and to work through what might be causing the symptoms with her.  This was a team and even more reason to continue on this path because I was being treated as an equal.  I ended up going back to CMC when I completed my externship because that is where my heart was.  I worked along Dr. Coldwell, another physician who wanted to know what we thought.  He trusted us--which means a great depth coming from a man who is a metabolic genetics guru.  This was the relationship that I wanted.  Healthcare is a team.  It wasn’t me against the techs or against the doctors.  But we worked together and opinions mattered.  Assessment findings mattered.  We collaborated.  I continued on working towards the PNP role with hopes of maybe one day returning to CMC in my new found position.  

But the doors had since closed on CMC and the hospitals treatment of physicians had become so poor that it was no longer an organization that I wanted to work for.  I had no desire to work in a hospital again.  So I chose my career in the clinic.  I was the primary healthcare giver of many children.  I loved it.  I could collaborate with the physician and other nurse practitioners within our clinic.  I could see children independently.  There were definite issues and barriers as the nurse practitioner role was (and is) still new in this part of the world.  I had parents who refused to see me.  I had specialists who refused to discuss a case with me.  I had parents who would leave and come back the next day to see the physician only to be told the same thing I told them the day before.  For the most part, the flack just rolls off your back.  But somedays it builds up.  

Somedays I find myself thinking, “why didn’t I go to med school so I could be that physician who cared what the NP had to say, what the nurse had to say, what the tech had to say and not just what the physician has to say?”  Why didn’t my experiences with Dr. Anderson and Dr. Coldwell lead me to be more like them and not simply more accepting that my career path would be accepted.  

I still have physicians who refuse to discuss a case with me, although I ordered the work up and it was my initial suspicion that led us to a surgical conclusion.  But most days I’m okay with that because they aren’t very fun to talk to anyways and I am easily intimidated.  I have residents who ask me which physician I checked out my admit to as if I am not capable of determining that the the vomiting/diarrhea 5 month old who has had 10 diarrheal stools for the day and it’s only 2 in the afternoon needs to be admitted for dehydration and IV fluids.  And I still hear how some will never take their child to the nurse practitioner.  And somedays it gets really old and it gets really old quick.  And I find myself searching through medical school admission criteria, taking practice MCAT exams and starting to fill out med school applications.  Because I’m tired of it.  Am I the physician?  No.  Do I pretend to know everything?  No. Will I correlate with my attending when I am at a loss of where to go next?  Yes.  Will I get a second opinion when I’m just not sure?  Yes.  Am I willing to say, that’s outside of my knowledge base?  Yes.  I’m that person because the alternative scares me.  So if I am on the phone with you telling you the child needs to be admitted it’s because I have either made the clinical decision that I have been trained well to make or I have discussed the case in detail with the attending doctor and we have came to that conclusion together.  And if you can’t have a conversation about the details of a case and a possible surgical outcome with someone who is not on your pay grade then you are a poor communicator and a terrible teacher.  

I don’t know if I will ever go back to school.  I don’t think you are ever too old.  i just don’t know if I will truly pursue that path or if I will just continue to let things roll off the best I can and develop a thicker skin.  I just hope that in my day to day, the nurses know that I respect them.  I hope the techs know that I respect them.  Everyone brings something to the table and I want you to share it and I want to hear it.  we are much stronger as a team than as an individual.  

let him not be ashamed...

“Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name.”  1 Peter 4:16

As I was scrolling through my TimeHop this morning I came across this little post...

I remember this day like it was yesterday.  Lance and I worked Monday through Friday and we missed out on some of the best moments Gideon had to offer.  Like almost every other baby, he was happiest in the morning.  He was colicky in the late afternoon/evening. I looked forward to Saturdays and Sundays with every inch within me.  Life slowed down on these days.  There was no where to be--with the exception of church.  We were able to fully enjoy one another.  I looked forward to waking up and seeing Gideon’s smiling face staring back at me.  He would eat and then we would move into the living room for mat and play time.  Lance would make coffee and toast either with the chocolate almond butter or with nutella.  So yum with the coffee.  I can still smell it.  Coffee, chocolate and baby smell!  We would just hang out all day.  When he was done with playing on the mat then we would move to laying him out-stretched on my legs and I talked to him and sang to him and often he would fall asleep here and then I would move him to his bouncer or to the corner of the couch on his blue printed boppy and cover him with a fuzzy blanket.  I remember telling Lance, this makes early morning rising all worth it.  We had a family groove and when we got that call a mere 3 days later, our lives would again never be the same.  

During our three days in the hospital and the months after, we often encountered the statement, “I don’t know how you are doing it.”  I never knew how to respond appropriately.  “By the grace of God” was the only thing I could ever get out.  it felt so cheesy to say though.  Just God.  God.  Only God.  God is sustaining us (insert nerdy laugh with Bible in hand looking to the sky).  Yep, that’s how I felt.  I wasn’t better than anyone.  I didn’t feel further in my walk.  I wasn’t holier.  I didn’t have an “in” with God.  But I felt weird saying that it was God getting me through.  i knew it was true but I felt like I was coming across as though I had just tapped into something others couldn’t have.  Like God and I were BFF’s and He just gave me the “best” half of our best friend necklace combo.  But why?  Why would I feel that way?  Our son was in critical condition.  Our son had died.  The one being that could have saved him allowed him to die for some reason that was greater than you and I.  And here I was, resting in Him and still feeling foolish for saying those words out loud.  And maybe there it was.  It was difficult to explain.  I had just experienced the most devastating tragedy in all of my days and the one who I place all of my hope in let me experience that loss but yet I still placed my hope in Him.  Those two sentiments...would you think I was crazy and would you think I was “more spiritual” than you if I spoke those words.  

As I sit and reflect over my memory from 4 years ago and this Bible verse for today, I am reminded that it is all for the Glory of God.  4 years ago, singing to our chunky newborn while eating our toast and drinking coffee was all for the glory of God.  Spending three days in the hospital in prayer, only to leave with an empty carseat was all for the glory of God.  I don’t always get it but I hope to never be ashamed of it.  I don’t understand and I never will this side of Heaven but I will glorify His name.  God is the reason I made it through.  God is the reason I make it through today.  by the grace of God, He freely gives.  By His promise I will see Gideon again.  By his goodness, I have a husband who adores me.  By his grace, I have Gabe.   

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.  If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory[b] and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler. Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name.” --1 Peter 4:12-16

I have shared in suffering and I know there will be more of various types to endure but I will rejoice and be glad in God’s glory.

Gabe is definitely lance's mini-me, but this blue eyed cutie is mine!  

Always planning.  Oh, the places we would go.

His blood has already overcame...

“They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.”  Revelation 12:11

I have spent the last three days at work.  I work a 12 hour shift that starts at noon.  It should end at midnight but sometimes, like last night, it doesn’t end until 1:30ish in the AM.  It makes for an exhausting day because not only did I stay almost 14 hours but something had to happen in that first 12 that made it impossible to complete all of my charting by the time midnight rolled around.  I had one of those days where you just couldn’t complete a thought.  I would set out to discharge “A” then “B” comes rolling through the door and then “C” is calling on the phone and so on.  And even though I had left 30 minutes before on what should only take a 10 minute trip, I was unable to get coffee since apparently 1130 on Saturday is when everyone wants their Flat White from Starbucks and there were lines out the door for the inside and around the building for the drive thru.  I felt tugged in every direction.  I felt unproductive, overwhelmed and poorly utilized.  I felt drained.  So this morning I was cranky.  I spent the entire ride to church griping about my yesterday.  I actually spent my entire morning that Lance and I were in ear shot of another griping about my yesterday.  (To which my husband replies, "you can always go back to seeing 4's and 5's, day in and out, one after another.  He's always good at pointing out my alternatives!")  We got to church late because I was too busy running my mouth to put forth the attention to being on time.  Then I get to church in time to hear the band play their last song before the sermon and this video plays....

21

...and tears just stream down my face.  Big tears.  Alligator tears.  My griping had been so futile.  My bad day was nothing in comparison to those surrendering their lives to hold true to their Jesus.  Then we sang.  

“We will overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony” and it sank in even more.  My bad day was nothing.  Alligator tears.  I didn’t just cry.  I wept.  i went to my knees and prayed.  I prayed for those families.  I prayed for those facing death because they will not renounce their faith.  I prayed for those Christians.  It was dirty y’all.  Snotty, big tear weeping in my church aisle.  

As God laid these 21 martyrs on my heart, I recalled other stories of martyrdom, some recent and some old.  I thought about those people who gave up their lives because of their faith in Jesus.  I’m here.  It doesn’t always sink in as deep as it should but today it hit me hard.  We are here and we get the occasional joke thrown at us about how believing is ridiculous or people gripe because “us Christians” are too intolerant and restrictive and we don’t know how to have fun.  And sometimes I gripe about the mockery that ensues but my God has big shoulders and I can find refuge in Him.  But this, this is hard to find refuge in.  Then the verse comes across the screen.  

“They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.”  Revelation 12:11

They did not shrink from death.  These 21 were barely men.  All 21 in their early to mid 20’s.  They had fled their country in search of food and work for their families.  They loved Christ.   They died because of only the last statement.  Could you imagine?  How easy for them to just say, “you know what, this whole Jesus thing isn’t worth it.  My atheist friends try to tell me I’m foolish anyways for believing in a super-being.  My co-exist friends tell me that we all just need to get along and I shouldn’t be so exclusive in my choice of religion.  Maybe they’re right.  Maybe it’s not worth dying over.”  But they didn’t.  Although they were kneeling, they stood in front of death and gave their life in the name of Jesus.    

Though my heart was breaking, my God’s resounding words were ringing true.  All is not lost.  There is no sting in death.  Hell has no victory.  Through the blood of the Lamb we will overcome.  OVERCOME.  

I pray the church will be revived.  I pray those words you see in the video.  “May their sacrifice lead our hearts to repentance.  May the blood of the martyrs, be the seed for a revived church.”    

Simplify…for your burden is heavy...

“There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God...”   Ecclesiastes 2:24

Today is day one of 4 days off in a row, one of the many reasons I have come to love my job.  As I started to sit down and write this, I heard Gabe start coughing and making some noises.  I went in to check on him and he was full of snot and wanted to be rocked.  So we blew his nose and we rocked.  I love holding him anytime but I love holding him in the middle of the night.  He just lets me hold him.  No playing with a plane or my necklace or asking me questions.  He’s still.  He’s quiet.  I can soak all of his 2 year old self up.  I watch him as I hold him.  His small hand holding mine.  His blonde eyelashes against his cheeks.  His little body curled up in my lap, warm and cozied up, cradled and loved.  It’s moments like these that can’t be captured with a camera that I never want to forget.  

Our series at church continues with “Simplify”.  Today, our sermon was related to our work.   Are we finding fulfillment in our work?  Is our work beneficial?  This journey since losing Gideon has been paved with lots of speed bumps, peaks, valleys, cliffs... but God has continued to be faithful through it all.  Lance and I have struggled to find our fit and to maintain a balance within and outside of the home that would work for our family.  Lance recently went through a lengthy and very detailed hiring process to go back into law enforcement.  It amazed me as we sat down and talked why he ultimately left and chose professions to begin with.  We had talked about it and for many reasons we felt like he needed a change but ultimately he was sacrificing for me.  After losing Gideon, I never wanted to work again or at least not full time and barely part time.  I didn’t have any idea how I would ever find a job that would fit more of a stay at home mom schedule.  So Lance ultimately quit so that he could pursue a job where he could make more money so I would not have to work.  The only problem with that...Lance is made to be a police officer.  It is in his blood.  He loves it.  Proverbs 22:6 says, “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.” If you have ever heard Pastor Himaya talk about this then you know that this can be translated to “the way he is bent” relating to an archery term and meaning, for example, if your child is artistic, don’t push them to be a scientist when they grow up and et cetera.  And this is what I feel Lance was trying to do to himself and I didn’t even see it happening.  He does love science and learning more about the function of the human body but his passion is in police work.  And although he tried to focus on a bigger paycheck and medicine, he was still yearning for what he had left behind.  So in 22 days he will begin a career with a new department.  But I tell you, this past year and a half has not been for nothing.  I have a new job that allows me to be home more often but still allows me to practice medicine and care for sick babies and had he not left Muskogee, I probably would not have either.  He gained the college hours that he needed to qualify for his current department and now he will be closer to home.  I can’t argue with any of those perks and I know the boulders in the road have been worth it!   

We talked about our skills, passion and opportunities and how when those come together we find our sweet spot.  One day, I dream I will be able to go on that mission trip to Egypt and I know I will then be able to use all of those medical skills and passions I have inside of me but until then I get to use them here at work.  But there is more to that sweet spot and “work” than just your work.  If you have ever come to a party of Gabe’s or came over for an after church gathering, you may have noticed that I love to be in the kitchen.  I love to cook, to bake and to party plan.  I enjoy seeing everyone with full bellies, going for more, laughing and talking.  I love seeing the kids playing and having fun while their parents get to engage in adult conversations.  I love being a host.  I’m not social by any means.  My introvert personality doesn’t allow much room for that but I love large gatherings where I can just watch and see everyone having a good time.  One of the reasons I am so excited about having a house again is so we can entertain again.  I love having Sunday after church gatherings, community group and game nights and it’s just not that doable in this tiny apartment with a two top table.  

We also hit on what keeps a person in their current work environment.   My gut instinct would be money but I know that isn’t true for myself.  I definitely made more per my tax returns in my previous job but I also worked more and sacrificed more time away from home.  I got into this job because it worked with a schedule that I wanted for our family and I felt good about the people I interviewed with.  It has proven to be an amazing opportunity and just a few months ago, I told one of my friends that I was no longer looking at the job opportunities that are delivered daily to my email because I was so happy where I was.  So back to what keeps us there...why do I never want to leave??  The number one reason people stay where they are is their co-workers.  I can definitely say this is my number one.  I love who I work with.  We have this little PEC family and I feel like we are supportive and caring of one another and we actually like each other!  #2 is freedom.  I definitely have freedom within work itself but more importantly  within my schedule which is important to me.  #3 work culture.  Have you ever worked at a place where the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife?  You didn’t know if your boss or even co-worker was going to be in his manic phase or depressive phase and if it was manic, was it going to be over the top good or bad?  yeah, those are no fun.  Laid back, let’s get the job done and do it right but have a good time doing it, that’s our work culture and it makes it enjoyable to come in and do my job.   The number 4 reason people stay where they are is variety.  Again, I’ve been in the paper pushing same thing day in and day out and it does get old.  We need challenges, change, an occasional zebra without the burnout of over stimulation but also without the boredom drain of the mundane.  So, you can see money isn’t there in those top 4 reasons of why people stay in their current work environment.  Money may get you there but you can make money anywhere.  I had 3 other opportunities when i accepted this job that paid relatively the same amount, if not more than this job but I don’t regret my decision at all or think “what if” because I truly enjoy my job because of those things listed 1-4.  

Finally I will finish with this....  God wants us to be fulfilled through our work.  he designed us to work.  That work may entail many different roles and responsibilities but we are made to work and like Ecclesiastes says, “There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil...”   God gave us skills and passion to use for God’s glory so whether you are a stay at home mom, a part-time receptionist or full time nurse He wants to work through you.  We are called to be missionaries before all things...before being a spouse, a mother, an employee.  We are to be the witness of Jesus.   What is your work and who are you witnessing to? 

Simplify….fasting for the Lord and my soul...

The toil of a fool wearies him, for he does not know the way to the city.-- Ecclesiastes 10:15

We have began our church wide fast.  Today was day one.  Originally I thought we were all only going to be the Daniel Fast but yesterday in service, our lead pastor told us that we may need a fast from social media or games or some other vice.  I knew this was me.  Facebook and I spend entirely too much time together.  I have excuses: it’s my connection to my friends and family, it’s how I stay updated, it’s how I update my family and friends, it’s mind numbing, brainless activity that takes no effort, helps me unwind at 2 in the morning when I get home and takes up too much time of my family’s time with me.  Oh wait, that last part is not really an excuse but a dirty effect my phone has taken on my life.    

When I originally heard the above scripture in church on Sunday during our simplicity series, I initially thought about work, my career, my husbands career.  The pastor said, “the fool is so tired by work, he cannot even find his way home.”  While initially I tried to relate this to my job and Lance in his new and upcoming job as i know he is going to work a lot, when I sat down to do my first study during this fast, I realized my foolish work is my social media.   My phone is wearisome and I can’t even find my way back into the home.  I spend time with Lance and Gabe and with God and I do fun things but not like I should and not like I would before my “smart phone”.  So I’m giving it up.  I’m giving back to my family.  I’m surrendering to God, to my husband.  I’m surrendering to being a sister in Christ, a wife and a mother.  I’m simplifying and for me that looks like taking out the social media.  

You can have a conversation while learning to crochet with your husband without a phone in your hand!

Of course, it's Monday so we had a pool day!  He jumped! and he's swimming much further on his own!

The rhetoric...

Recently, my husband overheard a conversation about “tramp stamps”.  He was engaged in a conversation of his own but he wanted to comment so badly.  He chose to keep his opinions to himself...well, at least until the ride home.  It’s not the first time he has held his words back when overhearing the tramp stamp talk.  Recently, he also made it known how bothered he becomes when people make blonde jokes.  He’s protective and I love him for it but truthfully it bothers him more than I.  I just smile and tell him it’s okay.  When it comes up in conversations of my own, I only sit and listen.  You see, I have one of those “tramp stamps” also known as a tattoo on the small of my back.  I’ve had it since I was 19...right along with my belly ring (which I still love both and regret nothing about them!) and I’ve been some shade of blonde all of my life.  But those things don’t define me.  Well, some people do choose to define me by those descriptors but that girl in the blonde joke isn’t me.  That tramp you refer to isn’t me either.  I’m a mother of two boys.  I’m a wife to the same man I’ve been in a relationship with for the past 8 years without any hint of infidelity.  I have an associate’s degree, a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree.  I graduated in the top of my class.  I have a successful career.  That tramp and dumb blonde aren’t who I am.  Sure, I am socially awkward at best as my brain is searching around for the next topic of conversation but that is the introvert in me and I sometimes blurp out that my son is 20 months because somehow my mind got off track to Gideon and his age and then the age difference between him and Gabe and him to another child... 

These things, although they are more accurate than the aforementioned, are not truly who I am either.  As I have said before, I am a child of God.  This is who I am.  I could lose my husband, my job, my children but they are not my identity.  Christ is my identity.     

Maybe this is why it bothers Lance more than it does me.  It’s easy for us to get caught up in our accomplishments and want to defend them but we have to remember that it is all temporary.  It’s easier for me to hold onto that for myself than it is for him to hold onto that for me.  The role is often reversed when I hear police bashing and I automatically go into protect mode...even though he may not be active any longer, he will always be a police officer.  When he was active, he was often brushing it off and calming me down.  He was the one telling me to hold my facebook posts.  So I get it.  But again, that’s not who he truly is.  

When I get to Heaven, God isn’t going to care about the sunset on my back or that I went to graduate school.  He’s going to want to know if I knew Him.  Did I know Jesus?  Did I love Jesus?  Did I show the love of Jesus when I was here on earth?  Those qualities are what truly matter.  

So I say all of that to say this, it doesn’t matter what label society has placed on you.  It doesn’t matter what you have or what you don’t have when it comes to material things and social standards.  The only thing that matters is Jesus.  Find your identity in Christ.  

He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God.  --Psalm 62:6-7 

I hope that as we raise our children, we will ground them so heavily in this truth that their spirit may not be broken by mere words of another.  

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.--Proverbs 31:30

For you know that we dealt with each of you as a father deals with his own children, encouraging, comforting and urging you to live lives worthy of God, who calls you into his kingdom and glory.  --1 Thessalonians 2:11-12  

Blonde curls.  Blue eyes.

My tattoo!  On the beach of Gulf Shores.

My loves and the vast beauty of God's creation behind them.  Family vaca to Gulf Shores.