Tag Archives | christian life

Tag Archives | christian life

under control

Today I woke up early enough to greet my kids up to get ready for school.  I let Mr. Miller sleep in as he has let me do so so many days these past couple of weeks.
The babies slept in with their dad, and I took the girls to school, sipped on my morning drink, and listened to my  audio book.
Not unlike I do every single morning.
But these mornings have been filled with immense grief, reflection, prayer, hope, and sadness these past couple weeks.
I am reminded again that God has us, He holds us in his tender care.
Everything is under control” my book reminds, a tender mercy from heaven.
After Mr. Miller reluctantly leaves for work, I get my hands busy tidying my house.
Boy does it need it’s normal,  functioning mother to run it.
It feels good to bless my family by getting my hands busy.
My heart is full of love and sadness, but the love helps hold the weight of grief from crashing down.
The grief rolls in in waves, in the little details and memories that come in so easily, and crash down so hard.
Everything is under control, I’m reminded.
I rock my baby extra long, just like I have been doing these past weeks.
My heart is healed by each session of singing lullabies together, snuggling, laughing, tickling, touching.
In the afternoon, Grae makes art while I plan out some outside landscape.
The spring air rolls in through the windows, the hope of summer tickling our noses.
Light fills the house, love swells, and the weight lessens.
Everything is under control.

 

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my sister angie

Oh my dear blog readers,

I have been coming to this place for nearly ten years, sharing mostly about happy things and positive outlooks, and today I’m here to tell you that something terrible has happened in my life, my entire family’s lives.

On March 27, 2018, I got my first soul-shaking, devastating phone call.  My beautiful older sister, Angie, had passed suddenly in her sleep.

Our dear Angie, just 38 years old, leaves behind her own beautiful family.  A loving husband, and three wonderful children.

My oldest sister has been my constant rock throughout my life.  Being ten years younger, we shared a room when I was an infant and she would get me up in the night and take me to my mom to feed me.  I was her own personal baby,  and she was my own personal role model through my entire life.  She tolerated me trying to dress exactly like her growing up, including but not limited to, stuffing my bra at the tender age of 4 so I could resemble more closely my post-puberty older sis.  Ang was a stinker like most teenagers, and she would have never let my parents know what a good big sister she was.  Often she would invite me along to cheer practice with her, she’d invite me along with her friends to run to get slushies or treats (them being 16, me being 6), I’ve even been on a handful of dates with her.  I grew up wanting to be exactly like my big sister.

Angie moved out just before her 18th birthday, and that worried me that I wouldn’t see her as much.  But my sister was a good one.  I couldn’t count the sleepovers and movie nights with treats and snacks we enjoyed.  She grew up and got married, but still kept our close relationship strong.  Angie made my life when she got pregnant with our first nephew .  Some of my favorite memories were watching episodes of friends on DVD while I got to be the first to feel the baby move, get hiccups, and talk about baby names and what it was going to be like when that baby arrived.

On August 24, 2002, my life was forever made with the arrival of Angie’s precious son, Brakken.  I loved that baby like I had never known love before.  Angie was the best at sharing her motherhood with us, and we enjoyed being Brakken’s bonus mamas/aunties.  Ang let me and my sisters tote him around highschool football games, keep him for sleepovers, and literally spend every free moment we had at her house doting over our sweet boy.  As a teenager, I moved in with Ang as my first step to the real world, and there we spent every single night up giggling into the wee hours.  I kept Brakken at my new apartment the night she went into labor with Maizee and was among the first to meet that glowing baby girl.   And when Tage was born, I drove up to visit him on day 3, before my sister’s milk had come in, but my milk supply was bursting being away from my own nursing baby.  “Perfect!” she said “I was just going to fix him a bottle, but now I don’t have to.” as she handed her hungry newborn to my leaking chest.  We are sisters in every sense of the word.

Angie has always been the one to have the hard conversations with me, the one to lend me my first car loan, taught me to be the overly responsible adult that I am, and lead by ferocious example.  So much so that I feel lost in the world without her to run my every adult decision past.  I was a lucky baby sister, and boy do I realize it now.  Never have I had to live with such a hole in my heart before.  I have no idea what the healing of that will look like, and I ask for prayers that I might be able to start.

Words can’t express how devastating this news has been to our family, and to literally hundreds of friends who loved my sister.

We have also seen her in the details in a thousand different ways.  We have felt her beautiful spirit close to our hearts, and I have started to learn more directly what it means to have my own very special angel in heaven.  The Gospel is one of everlasting life, and while that has always been a sweet and dear thought, I am learning what it means to cling to that as absolute truth, and the steadiness that brings as I try and grasp this new phase of my sister’s life; this new phase of my own life.

We have so many prayers and well wishes on our behalf, I am so grateful.  These selfless acts have lifted me and my family up in this heartbreaking time.  I ask for your continued love and prayers and we piece our lives back together after this tragedy.

An account has been set up to support the financial aspect of this tragedy for those that feel lead, HERE.

 

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Happy New Year!

We are starting a fresh new year, in a fresh new (to us) house, with fresh new opportunity at our fingertips.  It feels like a great way to be starting a new year.

I am a lover of goals, fresh starts, and clean canvases.

Some things we’re working on over in this neck of the woods:

Coming from a place of authenticity in all aspects of my life – motherhood, work, relationships.  In my late twenties I am learning to finally rely on my own instinct, and trust my own opinion.  Be okay with things the way I like them, even if no one else does.  My own voice, style, path.  Be myself completely and fully, coming from a place of love, and not letting insecurity drag any energy from that space.

Connecting more with each of my children in the way they best connect and feel loved.  This looks different for all of them, and I hope to pay attention, especially as they grow, in the ways they want to connect with me.  Harlo likes chatting late at night, Stella enjoys getting out and about with me, Grae loves my complete undivided attention, and Major loves extended rocks in the rocking chair before bed while I sing him his favorite songs, or a good wrestling sesh.  I hope to love my children in the ways they receive love.  Always!

One thing that 2017 presented me with as a new challenge is not having time for ME, my work, my passions.  This past year motherhood consumed more of me than ever before.  I have always been a worker-bee.  I hit the ground running when I got my first job at 14, and balanced two to three jobs and a side hustle or two constantly as a teen and young adult.  Working was the first thing I was good at, and motherhood was the second.  I’ve had a balance of the two for all these years, and this past year it seemed to come crashing down.  I had to hand over one for the other a lot, and that stressed me out.  I mean, I spent maaaany nights crying myself to sleep while wrestling with God about what I should be doing with my life.  I also learned, that that is my process…  I hold onto every last ounce of my control before I have a meltdown and let go and let God, which I hope to be better and more gracious about walking forward.  Sometime in the year though, I realized that this season was passing and wouldn’t last forever. There have been years of motherhood I’ve been stay-at-home 100% and others I’ve worked mostly from home full-time.  This year needed me home a lot, and I’m grateful for the time, and for the simplicity it created for my life.  I needed to learn that my worth is not equal to my productivity or how hard or much I work, and it’s okay to have those years of simplicity and service that motherhood so readily provides.  Always always learning in this motherhood journey!

I’ve also been learning a lot about what gives me energy, and what drains me of energy.  This has been such valuable information, and this year I hope to do more of what is LIFE GIVING to me, and be aware of what is draining me.  Improving myself and evolving all the time.

I am walking into this year with less things I want to focus on, but focus MORE on just those things. 

New house, new year, but the same ol’ blossoming me.

Happy New Year!

♥ the mama

 

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happy camper

Last week I had the opportunity to join the teenaged (and pre-teen) girls of my church for “girls camp”.

I wasn’t raised in our church, and so this was my very first time at girls camp!  I must admit, I was quite nervous and contemplated every excuse I had to get out of it, but I turned my heart to prayer about girls camp, and felt strongly impressed to go.  The stars aligned with awesome volunteers to help watch my children (I owe you, Cher and Grandi!) along with Mr. Miller, and on Tuesday morning I was on my way for 48 hours of camp.

I had absolutely no idea what to expect – and when you look at me the term “roughing it” may not come to mind – but all my dearest friends assured me that girls camp is the absolute best, and so I leaned into faith, slapped a smile on my face and went.  My goodness, they were right.

We slept in tents, cooked over an open fire, played endless amounts of games, I smuggled in diet coke (ha), and learned a plethora of wonderfully corny camp songs.  We want on walks all over the gorgeous pine valley mountain, and cried tears of gratitude, love, and truthfulness.  I got to know my sweet young women like I hadn’t before, and got to bond with the leaders, too.  I came home with such a full heart.

It was so wonderful to get home to my Mr. Miller.  While I was gone, I had missed our 9 year wedding anniversary!  So we celebrated over the weekend.  My girls couldn’t wait to hear all about camp and are looking forward to when they can go.  (when they turn 12! I hope I’ll still be a leader then!)

I feel like youth church camp is a right of passage that I had missed, and I’m grateful to have been able to experience it now at 28 years old!  Looking forward to next year (although I’m glad to have a year between “roughing it”). ;)

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