The Dirt Road

“And they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength...they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” -Isaiah 40:31 

I went running this week.  Twice.  I ran a mile each time, and although this may not seem like a monumental occurrence, it kind of is.  I had my fourth baby ten weeks ago on Thursday, and I've never started working out after giving birth until about a year, or in some cases much longer.  It's hard because I'm not one of those people who can work out when I'm pregnant.  I wish I was, because I know it's much healthier, but I'm just not.  

I was in good shape before I got pregnant, but during my pregnancy I only went running once.  It was about a week after I found out, and I was super proud of myself.  I accurately informed my sister as we were running together that I had already worked out more in this pregnancy than in my other three combined.  0+0+0<1.  Unfortunately, the trend couldn't last and I didn't seriously workout again. 

This is my first blog post since February, and I think my running may have something to do with that.  As Julia Cameron says in The Artist's Way, many people's creativity is strongly influenced and released by exercise. Sometimes even just a brisk walk can get the creative juices flowing.  
That seems to be true for me.

I love running.  (Actually, as out of shape as I am right now I am still at the point where I HATE running, but you know what I mean.) I love running because it forces me to focus on something outside of myself and rely on strength from without instead of falling back on my own strength within.  On Monday that strength was my husband, graciously running along beside me, letting me set the pace as well as the distance when he easily could have tripled both. Thursday I was alone, and running in the heat of the day on a dirt road that suddenly became an international highway.  Car after car zoomed past me going at least 30 mph instead of the legally required 20, kicking dust up off the road and straight into my lungs.  I thought about quitting as I greedily gulped in as much oxygen as Gunnison (with its 7,700 feet elevation) was willing to share with me, and I listed all the reasons it would make sense to walk instead.  Then I started to pray.

I can be overly self-sufficient. Sometimes it's easy to stay in my little comfort zone where I am in control. But as I prayed, I remembered that there is a God who made me, who is bigger than I am and a source of strength outside of my own weakness.  In the big things and small things, He is there to offer strength and encouragement.  I am not on my own. And I finished the mile. 

One More

This Valentine's Day, I'm reflecting on my relationship with my husband. The anniversary of our first date is tomorrow.  This year marks eighteen(!) years since he asked me out for coffee and I arrived to pick him up.  Since he was still fifteen, I had to drive.

I've shared some of the writing I did while we were on our honeymoon here in the past.  Here's another one.  Ten and a half years ago now.

One More...

"We do not remember days, we remember moments." 

Cesare Pavece

August 2005

The other night  A. and I watched "Meet Joe Black," a movie I had seen before and he had not, and this time I found it strangely moving.  I was struck by the portrayal of relationships, father and daughter, lovers, husband and wife. A great quote..."True love is when you know the worst there is to know about each other and it's OK. You love each other anyway."

After the movie we grabbed a sleeping bag and drove out to Blue Mesa Reservoir to look at the stars.  The reservoir is huge, and in the dark, parked on the sand, we could not see the edge and it was almost like the ocean.  No end.  Someone had left the last embers of their bonfire glowing in the fire pit on the shore.  The air smelled of smoke and fishy water.  A. made a nest for me in the bed of his truck and started the "honeymoon mix" Lauren gave us as a wedding present.  I'm not sure whether she knew it or not, one might say she couldn't have known, but I believe it was created expressly for this moment.  This moment in the truck A. proposed to me in, on the empty beach with the smoke and the millions upon millions of stars.

The sky was perfectly clear--clear in the way that only the Colorado sky can be, in the mountains, with no lights to compete with the brilliance of the stars and the moon.  They reign alone.

"Did you see that!?" A. exclaimed.  A shooting star.  I had missed it.  But another, and another, and yet another were to follow and we watched, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, as though we could make them stop.  Two tiny humans--specks of sand.

A. went for a walk along the beach; I lay in my cocoon, soaking in the music, the smells, the cold air on my face--trying to memorize it.  I was filled with joy, but a profound sense of sadness as well, and longing.  I was aware of my love for my husband. Strong and raw and aching in me.  The movie had stirred a lot of memories in me, and I remembered the time in my life when A. and I had been apart--the pain and the humiliation of a broken heart.  It changed me, and changed my love for him. I am thankful for that time, thankful for the life it brought to our story, and I know it made me a better actress, sister, and friend, and some day will make me a better mother and counselor as well.  But while teaching me that God would protect me through any loss, it made me afraid to suffer loss again.  I thought of my sisters, Janna and Danette, and hurt for them, missed them, and was afraid for what lay in store, terrified that I cannot protect them, wishing I knew how to let go.  And I wanted to weep, even as another shooting star took my breath away.

These were my thoughts as A. returned, breathless and happy from his walk.  I made room for him in the sleeping bag and his leather jacket was cold against my sweatshirt and his nose ice against my cheek.  "Can you believe," his breath warm on my ear, "these are the same stars that Abraham and Isaac and Adam and Eve and Jesus looked up at? They're still here. It's unbelievable to me."  Unbelievable to me as well.  Somehow his conversation led us to heaven, and in my romantic frame of mind I said, "I don't want to think about heaven right now, because I know that when we're there, I can't be your wife and that makes me sad."

"You can be my friend."

My eyes and nose itched with tears.  I don't want to be your friend.

Ever since I first understood the concept of marriage, and then of heaven, I have been sad that we cannot be married when we die. The sadness and frustration only grew stronger when I met someone I wanted to be married to forever.  I see myself as a child, bargaining with God, If only I could still be married then I... Maybe marriage is my idolatry.

Time stood still in silence.  The CD had run its course and no one moved to start it again.  A.'s arms were safe and strong around me and he loved me in my melancholy--in my broken joy.  He loved me and let me be, until I was too tired and too cold to enjoy the sky anymore.  We drove home, singing quietly together with Iz, "What a wonderful world."

Thank you for reading, and Happy Valentine's Day.

Midnight Musings

It is late.  A. is sleeping next to me and I’m pressing the keys on my keyboard down as lightly as I can in the hope that I won’t disturb him.  It doesn’t seem to make my typing any quieter.  Our door is open and I can hear the sound of the noisemakers from the girls’ and Logan’s room coming from their open doorways.  I like being awake at night when all the doors are open and I know my kids are asleep.  I feel close to them even though I can’t see them.  Someday (soon) they’ll be teenagers and sleep with their doors closed.  I won’t have to wonder if Reagan will wake me up at 11:00 p.m. or 4:00 a.m. or anywhere in between, because she won’t be six anymore, and will no longer climb into bed with us.  I’ll hold onto their being little while I can.

The baby is moving in my belly as I write this.  I wonder if this little person is a girl or a boy?  I almost can’t believe we didn’t find out.  I think part of me really wondered if we’d cave and go ahead and ask the technician what we’re having.  I’m glad we didn’t.  I think I would have been really disappointed, even though it is going to be soooo hard to wait another twenty weeks to find out.

It was such a relief to me when the doctor at the imaging department told me that everything looked okay.  There are so, so, so many things that can go wrong.  I actually felt a little sick with relief as we were leaving the ultrasound.  And then I cried because so many of my friends have lost sweet babies.  It breaks my heart.  All my happiest moments seem to be tinged with sadness.

Our sermon at church today was about suffering and why it is something that we have to deal with, dating back to Adam and Eve and their choice to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, allowing sin and sickness to enter the world.  I was reminded of the time when Avery was four-and-a-half and I had briefly explained that concept to her.  A few days later we were talking about something else and she said, “Mom, why did God start with just two people?”  Before I could answer she said, “Adam and Eve were kind of naughty.  They ate that bad tree.  And that makes me angry with Adam and Eve.  And kind of sad.  And a little bit scared.”  Me too, kiddo.

A thought I took with me from today’s sermon was that sometimes, we want to look at God and say that if He is all loving and all powerful and bad things still happen, then He must not exist.  But taking God away doesn’t remove our problems or our suffering, it just removes any possible solution to them.  Knowing that God has an ultimate plan for us that is bigger than our troubles on earth helps give meaning to our lives.  The pastor reminded us that we are not alone in our sorrows, and that God enters into our suffering with us.  Jesus suffered for us.  He quoted the writer John Stott as saying, “I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross….  In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it?”

I’ve been reading Bonhoeffer for part of a reading challenge I am doing with my sister.  (Next week I’ll tell you all the details of the challenge and how you can participate if you want.)  The book hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface of the atrocities perpetrated by the Nazis yet, but Bonhoeffer’s mother just lost one of her sons in the First World War and was almost undone by her grief, in spite of her deep faith.  I thought again of my friends, and of my mom who lost my brother five years ago.

We are not guaranteed comfort and safety in this life.  We are living in uncertain times, in a lot of ways, and even if there were nothing to fear from terrorism or mass shootings, there would still be cancer, car accidents, and stillbirths.  I am thankful that everything looked good on the ultrasound, but I know that there is still so much that could go wrong.  It’s comforting to me to listen to the quiet of my family sleeping, to feel my baby moving in my belly, and know that right now, we are okay.  I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I do know that God is with us in our joy and in our suffering, and He is not immune to pain.

Giving Thanks

This week I am thankful for tea.  And the sounds of three-year-old giggles, eight-year-old piano players, and six-year-olds practicing reading aloud.  Life is good.

I’m nineteen weeks and six days pregnant, and I get to go and see the baby on an ultrasound tomorrow.  I’m really excited.  The plan is to try not to find out what we’re having until the baby is born, so wish us luck.  It’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility that one or both of us will cave and decide we have to know.  Or find out by accident.  We’ve seen quite a few ultrasounds at this point and might know what we’re looking at.

I’m finally starting to feel quite a bit better.  This pregnancy has been my roughest yet (hence the weeks of radio silence on the blog) and I didn’t magically emerge into week sixteen and feel 100% better like I did with my last three pregnancies, which was disappointing.  But I am feeling much better than I was, which I am thankful for.  I’ve also used the time of low energy and sickness to catch up on a lot of reading.  I mean, a lot of reading.  I’ve read more books in the last month than I have in the last several years put together.  And though I’m still having bouts of severe nausea every night, at least I can alleviate it substantially by drinking chamomile tea.

I LOVE tea, although chamomile is not usually my favorite.  But Teamotions Enjoy Rest (Apple Cinnamon Chamomile) and Give Thanks (Maple Ginger Rooibos with Chamomile) have been lifesavers these last few weeks.  Give Thanks, along with our other amazing holiday teas, will only be available until January 15^th so I’m going to stock up.  You should, too.  J 

Out of the Box

You guys!  I am so excited to tell you that my very dear friend Lauren from The Thinking Closet is releasing the paperback version of her book, Thinking Outside the Gift Box, and it's available for pre-order now!

I have mentioned Lauren on the blog several times as she is the queen of creative inspiration and all things DIY.  Her blog is both informative and uplifting, and I enjoy her writing so much that I read every post, even though (as I've said before) I can't DIY my own stick figures.

Lauren and I met in a literature class in college, and we became fast friends getting distracted sharing Marcus Aurelius quotes while studying for a quiz. We had the joy of being in our college's theatre group together, and many of my favorite college memories are with Lauren.  After college, we were bridesmaids in each other's weddings, and we have tried to visit one another as often as the geographical distance between us permits.  Here we are, trying on hats during my visit to Orlando last May.

It is so fitting that Lauren's first book would be about loving other people through creative gift-giving.  Lauren is the most creative person I know, and she has a never-ending supply of gift ideas. She is the kind of person who knows exactly what to do and say to make you feel seen and loved, and it is so generous of her to share many of those ideas with us in her book.  It is a fun and easy read, and it comes just in time to help ease the stress of holiday gift-giving.  The gift ideas are not expensive, and there are lots of options for those who are (like me) less craftily inclined.

Lauren released her book last year as an eBook, and everyone who read it raved about how helpful it was.  I love to have an actual book to hold in my hands, and it seems I am not the only one.  By popular demand, there is now the paperback option.  For those who do prefer to read electronically, there is a PDF package available, and there is also the ultimate package that comes with the paperback book signed by the author and a gift-giving supply kit with four surprise items.  Just click on this link to browse through all three packages and find out which is the best one for you.  And, as an added bonus, once you buy your first copy, Lauren will send you an email with a discount code to purchase additional gift copies at a discounted price. Lauren is an expert storyteller, and she will keep you engaged from the very first page till the end of the book.

When I read her book for the first time, I was surprised and happy to find that I was mentioned in it a couple of times.  :)  I'm proud to have gotten to be even a tiny part of such a wonderful project.

Please let me know if you get her book, and what you think!  I'd love to chat about it.  Happy gifting, everyone!

*Full Disclosure: This post contains affiliate links, which means that if you make a purchase after clicking through, ginabooton.com may receive a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for your support.

The Gift of Yummy Drinks

It's fall--my favorite season.   The chill in the air in the morning, the crisp leaves under my feet, visiting pumpkin patches, and especially a cup of something warm in my hands.  I've been celebrating by drastically upping my daily intake of Teamotions tea.  Nothing says fall to me quite like a cup of Rooibos Coconut Chai with half and half and a little bit of raw sugar.   I especially love it when I'm able to make an extra cup for someone I love.

My friend Lauren from The Thinking Closet wrote a post this week about five meaningful ways to give the gift of a yummy drink, and what better time to gift someone with a yummy warm drink than in the fall?

As an added bonus, at the end of her post, you can enter to win a Teamotions gift set of your choice, donated by me.  Valued at $50, the gift set comes with a ceramic mug, stainless steel infuser, tin of Teamotions tea, and perfect tea scoop.  Read Lauren's post and snag your chance to win here. Hurry, the giveaway ends on Monday, October 12th at 11:59 p.m. Eastern.

Happy fall, and good luck, friends!

Weekend Away: Momcon 2015

I just got back from the annual MOPS International leadership conference. This year it was in Indianapolis and I was able to travel with several other women from my MOPS group.  I had an amazing time.  Matt Maher performed and the main-stage speakers included Amena Brown, Jen Hatmaker, and Bob Goff, among others.  If you ever have the chance to go and hear Amena Brown perform her spoken word poetry, you should absolutely do it.  She was phenomenal.  The weekend was full of good conversations with new friends and great advice on parenting and how to be a more intentional wife. I have pages and pages of notes to go through and digest over the next few weeks and a stack of books to read.

If you're looking for books on parenting, I highly recommend Wild Things: The Art of Nurturing Boys by David S. Thomas and Stephen James, as well as All You Need to Know About Raising Girls by Melissa Travathan and Sissy Goff.  I had the opportunity to hear both David Thomas and Sissy Goff speak this weekend.  David was absolutely hilarious and they were both insightful and engaging speakers.  In those two short sessions, I learned things about my son and daughters that have already changed some of the way I parent now and will be especially helpful as they get older.  I couldn't get in line to buy their books fast enough, and I plan to spend time on their website, raisingboysandgirls.com, taking advantage of the tons of resources and information about parenting.

When asked what my favorite part of the weekend was, I found it hard to say. The whole weekend was my favorite, really.  I missed Anton and the kids like crazy, but I'm glad I had the opportunity to go and be filled up and connect with other women.  It made me so thankful for A. and his willingness to cover things at home so I could go, and thankful that my sister could help with my kids and watch Molly and Hazel for me.

As I thought about what I wanted to say to you guys about the conference, I kept going back to Bob Goff.  Last year, my husband read the book, Love Does, at the suggestion of his aunt and then recommended it to me.  Even though everything he told me about it sounded wonderful, I didn't get around to reading it.  I will now.

Bob Goff was a great speaker.  He took us off guard with his almost childlike enthusiasm and excitement.  We weren't allowed to stay one more minute in our comfort zone.  His message was so simple, and scary hard at the same time.  Jesus didn't call us to play it safe.  We're defined by the way that we love people.  Love everybody--always.  Live in grace, walk in love.

Bob Goff speaking on Friday at Momcon.

He talked about how as Christians, we are under the banner of Christ.  That either changes nothing in our lives or it changes absolutely everything.  I thought of my parents, and the extravagant way that they love. Especially the way they love those who have been unloved or unwanted before.  I was inspired to be more like Bob, and more like my parents, but to do it in whatever way looks like me.  He said, "Go be you.  And go love everybody."

I'm looking forward to seeing what that looks like in my life, and I'm going to start by picking up a copy of his book.  Love Does.

Forever Young

My mom's high school yearbook picture.

My mom turned sixty-five last week.  She looks and seems so much younger though, and I've been trying to pinpoint exactly why. Besides good genes (here's to hoping she passed those down to me, right?) I think a lot of it is her attitude.

She's never had a problem admitting her age, and she enjoys her birthdays. If anyone ever asks her how she feels about getting older she says, "It sure beats the alternative."  She laughs a lot, loves her grandbabies, and will often sit down on the floor with them to play or read books.  She is more focused on other people than herself, and she is happy to be where she is.

Just the other day I was talking to my dear friend Rachel and I asked her, “When did we get this old?”  Even as I said it I knew that we're still young.  We’re both only 34, and Lord willing, we still have a lot of life ahead of us.  But a whole lot has happened since we became friends when we were fourteen.  Sometimes we both worry that this season is the best yet, or ever.  Our kids are young and cute and at home.  It's easy to worry that the next stage in life will be different and therefore not as good.  But when I look at my parents I don't worry as much.  

My mom and dad do foster care full time.  They pour their hearts and lives into the kids they work with, and they love what they do.  When I look at the way they live their lives I’m not afraid of growing older.  They make being grandparents look good.

  
As I was getting this post ready this week, and thinking about my mom's birthday and aging gracefully, I opened a piece of chocolate with this message:

Thank you, Dove. :)