I’m a sucker for romantic comedies. I especially love the ones where the woman is clearly blind and doesn’t see that he’s the one. Open your eyes, lady! He’s everything you want and need…and more! Can’t you see that he’s madly in love with you? ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION?! And then, when she finally realizes that the man of her dreams is right in front of her, I just want to start throwing up some praise hands. I mean, can I get an AMEN? 🙌
My one and a half year old son’s favorite word is “no.” Raise your hand if you are the least bit surprised. No one? Shocker.
Sometimes it’s a subdued “nah” when I ask him if he wants to finish his dinner. Hey, at least he’s polite about it. Other times, it’s straight out of a scene from Jurassic Park. You know, the one where the Tyrannosaurus Rex chases after the Jeep? Except I’m being chased by an insane toddler who is SO mad that I won’t allow him to play with the broom (#meanestmomever). While I appreciate your desire to sweep, child, you are making a bigger mess and I’m going to have to wrestle this out of your hands later and then you’re going to throw the most epic tantrum ever, thankyouverymuch.
Church was a means to an end…until my life took a dramatic turn in my late teens and early twenties. And it was all because of a few friends.
True story: I went to church with Carrie Underwood.
It was a warm, sunny Sunday at the end of July 2012. Ryan and I were still dating at the time, and we had traveled down to Nashville, TN, to visit his best friend and his best friend’s wife. They asked us if we wanted to go to GracePointe Church, and I was excited to experience some Nashville worship.
I have to admit, this was a hard blog post for me to write because this is something I struggle with ALL.THE.TIME. I rewrote my words too many times, hoping that I could eloquently convey my message. Instead, I am afraid this will be raw, rough, and entirely too honest.
More times than not, if you run into me while I’m out and about, my son is attached to my hip. At almost 15 months, he’s my constant companion. I cherish every second I get with him, especially because I’m not a stay-at-home mom. Our time together is so precious, so valuable.
One of my toughest days as a mom was the day I returned to work. I still live with residual guilt from this decision.
Because my time with my son is limited, I find myself engrossed with all things Everett. We play trucks, we read books, we dance and sing…I cram everything I can fit within the two and a half hours before bedtime. Sometimes it feels like I am trying to prove to myself that I am a devoted mom, because I chose to go back to work instead of staying home with my little boy.
So, where does this leave my husband? How do I find time to show Ryan the same level of love and devotion?
“He has made everything beautiful in its time.” – Ecclesiastes 3:11
This verse sits framed on a shelf in my kitchen — a constant reminder that God provides everything at the right time…even if it’s not my timing.