Learning to listen

Monday’s are rough. Monday’s after a holiday=near death experiences. But this Monday came with a sweet surprise.

I am one of those annoying people who blows holidays out of proportion. I build them up in my head, what conversations will be had, all the feelings that will be felt and the memories that have to be made. It’s a recipe for disaster, obviously, and Erron usually gets the brunt of it when it all implodes. I’ve been this way since I was a kid, it’s still in work in progress.

Last Thanksgiving was not my favorite. Clearly, we had everything to be thankful for but it was a little too surreal for me and the whole experience was just overwhelming. I ended up hiding out in my closet, hyperventilating at how close we came to a Thanksgiving without Shepherd. This Thanksgiving felt a little strange for the exact opposite reason, Erron was tired coming off a crazy work week and I was feeling high maintenance. There was little talk about what we felt thankful for, and while the food was amazing, and family was nice, the whole thing just left me feeling unsatisfied. This is a personal problem, I could have changed the course of conversation, I could have lowered my expectations to something realistic and I could have admitted it was my attitude that was the most out of joint. If I’m telling the truth, I haven’t been feeling thankful lately, I’ve been anxious…then I feel guilty for feeling that way when I know better, I’ve experienced enough to know better….but it is frustratingly easy to forget sometimes. The whole emotional merry-go-ground just makes me annoyed, but I can’t always figure out how to step off it quick enough.

Erron and I are in a season that is kind of low-grade stressful all the time. I’m pretty sure it’s just a season, but it feels like it’s been a long one, and we are over it. We are ready for a change in the weather. Erron and I were both feeling the weight of our situation yesterday when we finally went to church. I say finally, because we both volunteer first service, but we hardly ever go to second service ourselves. (I coordinate a team of sweet volunteers for Shep’s age group and Erron drives golf carts) Anyway, once we get done with our jobs, we always panic that we might be stretching the kids past their limits. Usually, we are so late getting out the door we don’t even feed them, so we grab them and bounce, opting for lunch instead. But yesterday, we randomly decided to go and it was a sweet relief. I sat there next to Erron, feeling annoyed that I wasn’t feeling grateful. I finally looked at my husband and said, “This will work out, we’ve been through way more stressful things.” He nodded. He knew. And my heart started to thaw out as the service continued. Last night I went to bed in prayer, pleading for a change of heart and asking for trust instead of anxiety.

Now, I am not a girl who hears from The Man Upstairs directly, but when I woke up this morning the verse about not being anxious and instead being prayerful and thankful was rattling around in my head. Literally on repeat.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ~Philippians 4:6

And then it happened. I pulled out my wallet after coffee and began making the calls I needed to make. All the doctors’ offices that I had been putting off. First call in, our biggest bill…the woman on the other end tells me it’s been run through the system incorrectly and re-adjusts. Our mega bill is cut in half. Then I check on our med-flex account to make sure they received the payment they needed and hear there is enough money in there to cover the rest of the bills. Like, all of them. Paid in full. I thought we had drained the account months ago. This morning was such a gift. And completely unexpected. The timing couldn’t have been sweeter.

Since my experience with Shep, little by little I’m learning how God can sometimes whisper in your ear by laying words on your heart. I have to say, it’s my favorite lesson so far about the nature of The Man Upstairs.

Dear Charlotte,

11 / 23 / 1511 / 23 / 15

We’ve had a rough couple months haven’t we? We’ve gone toe to toe over getting dressed, the 5 pacifiers you carry around with you, coming when you’re called…. It’s gotten a little too routine to go to war with you over stuff that doesn’t really matter much in the long run. I’ve been impatient, frustrated when you make us late because you have to buckle your seat belt without any help from me. You won’t let me touch a thing you’re working on, if I do, you start over, and that’s hard. I’m sorry Sis…I should give you more grace. I know you like to do it on your own, it’s my fault I didn’t create the margin in our morning for you to figure it out.

Sweet Charlotte, I didn’t know how complicated it would feel having a daughter. I had no idea how much I would want you to need me, and to want me. You’re so little Sis, not even three, but most days I feel like you would get along just fine without me as long as you had Brother around to play with. You put on your clothes, you buckle that tiny gold buckle on your shoes, and you brush your own teeth. If there’s food you can’t reach, you drag a chair over so you can.

Lately, I’ve felt like a first time parent. You attack life so differently than your older brother and sometimes I get tired of choosing our battles. Most of the teachers are used to seeing me drag you out of a building kicking and screaming. You’re wearing a princess dress or a dance leotard and you’re furious you can’t walk in the parking lot without holding my hand. But it’s my job to keep you safe, and give you boundaries. You hate it…but you need it Sis, I promise, you need it. People say I was like you at this age….yet you intimidate me with your spunk, I have yet to see you face an obstacle you couldn’t bulldoze your way through. You’re not afraid of much, and there’s nothing you won’t try.

“I want to DO it!” is a worn out phrase in our house. I’m proud to see you conquer things I wasn’t expecting you to figure out for another year….but sometimes I’m only pretending to be excited.

“Good job, BIG girl!” I cheer… mentally crossing off another thing you used to need my help for.

You’re sassy. That’s one thing we really do share, and when I think of myself at 13 and the things I said to my own mom, I cringe. Then I come down on you… hard, afraid you’ll turn into me. When you pull my hair at family photos on purpose, I react. I worry someday you’ll want to pull away, to put lots of distance between us, like I did once. It’s not fair put my fears on you.

Recently, I’ve been so focused on your stubborn streak. I got too concerned about what it might mean for you in the future, and hung up on how inadequate it made me feel in the moment. I lost sight of the softer side of you. You become protective if you see me upset. You come for snuggles, every morning. Tiny you, shouting your Big Goodbye to Shepherd over a room full of students at drop off. You’re so capable, but you are also precious and loving Sis.

A few nights ago, I was singing your bed time song,… ”Hey Charlotte, heeeey Charlotte, hey Charlotte, Charlotte Rose….” And you were singing it with me.

Except you changed the word Charlotte to Momma in every verse.

And I knew that you adore me as much as I adore you. Sister, you are so special. You amaze and overwhelm me and I’m still trying to figure you all out. I promise I’ll never stop trying. I think you hung the moon Char. I can’t believe you’re mine, that I get to be the one guiding you into the woman you’ll become. It’s going to be an exciting trip Sis, I’m so happy to be taking it with you.

All my love,
Your Momma

char — Photos by Chelsea Alghrim Photography (The Outtakes)

The White Unicorn

11 / 12 / 1511 / 12 / 15

Abbey&Allie — Remember when we signed all our notes LYLAS? I feel like if we dug out thank you cards to one another from our wedding presents, it might still be signed the same way…..

We have been in our new town now for a little over a year and half and we are still trying to find our people. We know a lot of wonderful people, but I wouldn’t say we’ve found our PEOPLE, if that makes any sense. Our experience with Shep took us of out of play for a good 10-12 months and for a long time after I only felt known as “that mom who almost lost her son.” That was fine, because for a while, that’s how I knew myself too, but now I miss being known, and known well.

I crave the type of friendships that pick up immediately where they leave off, where judgment isn’t welcome, and any topic is up for discussion. History and shared experiences dictate the depth of many friendships and that’s just something I don’t have with other girls here yet.

However, over the last few years, I’ve discovered a new common denominator in friendships that allows them to grow and deepen at a much faster rate, but it’s scary to be so vulnerable up front. And yet I have found that friendships where faith is the foundation, where spiritual struggles and growth are consistently topics of conversation, have a completely different feel than other friendships. Sure, you can drink wine and talk about your kids schools, the best type of spray tan, or the fact that you sat in bed and watched music videos the entire time your kids napped…. but you can also talk about how you worry your faith is not always enough to help you raise a challenging child, how starting a new business can make you feel terrified and exposed, or how showing your husband the love and kindness he deserves feels like a tall order….you get the picture. The nitty gritty type of conversations. I miss everyday friendships with girls who ask the follow up questions, the “why do you think this/feel this/do whatever” type questions and then will be brave enough to tell you the truth, gently, even if it’s hard.

You know, the Meridith and Christina type friendship. Your person. Husbands are awesome, but they can’t be your Person. You can’t talk to your husband about you husband. Obviously.

On a Texas Girls’ retreat recently, this type of friendship was jokingly dubbed “The White Unicorn”…we all want to know her, but she’s super hard to find. Especially in this phase of life where tiny little people consume much of your free time and half of the meaningful conversations you start with other women are interrupted to change a diaper/stop a fight/hand out cheerios, never to be resumed again. Some of us girls realized we have one or two White Unicorns in our life, but maybe they are not in the same town, some of us had many at one time…but most of us have moved away from Dallas, and we are all starting over in our new places.

In reality all you need is one or two true friends, and I’m so thankful to have experienced what that type of relationship even looks like in the first place. It’s a high bar to set. Abbey for instance, will meet every problem I throw at her with the pronoun “we”. She says, “Oh no, Allie…that’s not gunna work, we need to fix that. We need to work something out. ” I love that about her, she’s all in, all the time.

Same with the Texas Girls, some of us only see each other once a year, at our retreat. But when we gather together to catch up on our lives, and spend time praying for one another, it’s like we never moved away, and have continued to meet every week for the last 5 years.

Erron and I are starting to realize too, that now that we’ve seen community done, and done well, it may be time to step out of our comfort zone and lead out in what that might look like. You can’t find the types of friendships I’m talking about if you aren’t willing to be that type of friend in the first place. So, here’s to taking a leap of faith…and white unicorns. I hope we all find at least one.