Our Family's 2024: The First 5 Months in Review

2024 is going by quickly. So much has happened in a few short months. Let me tell you.

Pics taken on Christmas Day of 2023. In these photos, I didn’t know it yet, but I was in the early stages of pregnancy. My oldest daughter, who was/is only 3yrs old at the time, told me a few days before taking this picture that I was pregnant. I thought she was observing the pudge in my stomach. I kindly let her know that I wasn’t. She looked at me after I explained to her in detail as to why I might look pregnant after birthing four babies but was assuredly not haha. She listened and then said with more emphasis, “You’re pregnant, Mama,” before running off to play. Welp, she was right! I just didn’t know it yet.

Me with my GORGEOUS sister-in-loves. We went to a nice gala January 1st to bring in the new year. The food was amazing. The vibe and music was on par with what I like. And my husband and I were able to be back home at a decent hour that didn’t interfere with my bedtime haha.

This past February, my husband and I celebrated our 9 year marriage anniversary! My mama called and came over to watch the kids while my husband and I grabbed some lunch. Still in my first trimester, I felt quite sick in this photo. I actually ended up grabbing a box of cheese pizza after we left the restaurant to help my stomach settle. That pizza did the trick! Funny how pregnancy impacts the body in different ways. It was a sweet day.

In late February 2024- a polar vortex hit the south. It brought frigid temperatures, snow, and ice. We stayed in the house for a week. We were so thankful that our power didn’t go out and that we were able to fix our heat before the storm hit. As you can tell, our kiddos had a BLAST during that week.

Taking my oldest daughter to her ballet class. At this point in my pregnancy, I was beginning to “show” a little bit more. My daughter enjoys making silly faces.

My husband had a speaking engagement in Nashville. We decided to make it a family trip and take the kids. Months later and our kids still request to go back to “that hotel with the waffles.” Such a sweet memory. In this photo, they had just finished their meals and were anticipating eating their fudge brownie and ice cream (highly recommend this vegan restaurant called “Graze” in Nashville).

We didn’t see this one coming. We live in a townhome and our neighbor had a leak. Well our neighbors were out of town and the leak drifted into our home overnight. We had to get all of our floorboards removed throughout our entire downstairs immediately. For those who understand the nuances of dealing with home insurance, you know that it’s not always a quick process. Thankfully, we worked with an efficient agent. But even still, we were out of our home for about 5 weeks. It was a VERY challenging time. We were staying with my parents at first until one of the kiddos got a fever. Then we switched to a hotel and then the stomach flu swept through myself and all of the kiddos. Taking care of kiddos, in a hotel, pregnant, while cleaning up things coming out of both ends for multiple kids including oneself—I wish upon no one. More challenges came along the way during those 5 weeks, and I could talk at length on those, but I must pause to say that so many blessings came from the leak. One being that we got new floors! Our new floors are simply stunning. We chose a lighter color and the color has made our home feel more open and lively. Because we had to move everything out, I was forced to reorganize the pantry and all of our cabinetry—perfect timing before the baby comes in August. Going through that process made/makes me so thankful that my husband and I have a beautiful home to raise our children in. SUPER GRATEFUL. Many families have temporary residences, live in and out of hotel rooms, or cars—with small children. Honey, you won’t catch me complaining!!!!

Easter Sunday with Family! I was definitely feeling tired in this photo. We were still out of our home at this point due to the leak. I thank God for my mama who HELPED A TON in making sure all of the kiddos had their outfits ready for Easter.

MOVING IN DAY! Look at those gorgeous floors!!

The day after we moved back into our home, we celebrated both our sons’ birthdays. My oldest son had been talking about his birthday for months and we wanted to make sure he still felt celebrated in the midst of so much we had going on. THe Lord is so faithful. With the little preparation I could do, the birthday party turned out better than if I had months to plan. Here’s a pic of my husband and I after the party.

My youngest son, who was turning one, also received his first haircut prior to his birthday party. See pic below.

Us celebrating Mother’s Day. For those who made it this far in the blog post, thanks for reading! I look forward to posting more updates in the months to come.

Always Remember: God is Faithful.

That day I threw out sourdough that took 24+ hours worth of prep work to make. Here's what I learned: Don't manufacture "glory."

It had been a long day.

A previous night doing a few breastfeeding sessions with our teething 11-month-old.

A day of making meals, sweeping crumbs, completing (well, mostly completely) homeschool lessons with my older kids.

Answering endless questions from different kiddos, in no certain order.

Changing diapers, and giving countless redirectives to manage sibling arguments.

While my husband completed bedtime routines upstairs, I snuck downstairs to the kitchen to prep for the next day.

My feet throbbed, reminding this pregnant mama to wind it down sooner rather than later.

But I had one last task on hand to complete: prepping my sourdough to make sandwich loaves in the morning.

I Facetimed my sister to distract me from my own exhaustion, and then I heated the tea kettle to prepare some warm water to pour over my fed starter.

My sis and I kept each other company on the phone with little conversation and 30 minutes later, plastic wrap in hand, I wrapped up my bowl to allow my dough to rise overnight.

By mid-morning the next day, my dough had doubled in size. I wiped down our counters and became excited at the thought of kneading my fermented dough.

Because most of my days were filled with such unpredictability (i.e. meltdowns, spills, accidents, sickness), I found solace when baking bread.

After a few months of baking, I felt a level of control. I discovered that I could get the results that I intended, for the most part. And oh how I loved the results!

I loved the smells that filled our home. I loved hearing my son say on cue, “Mama, this is the best bread ever.” I loved watching my daughter chew and ask for more. It brought a sense of joy that felt… predictable.

I pulled out my two glass containers to set my dough in for its final rise before baking. But first, I needed to knead the dough.

I scraped some dough onto my counter and saw my precious 2-year-old daughter peer over the counter’s ledge to get a better peek. She then used a chair to climb onto the counter to sit in full view of what I was doing. Her eyes danced with innocent curiosity while her body fidgeted from side to side, excited to see what I would do next.

It was true. I was actively living out a scene from a daydream that I probably had as a little girl: being married, having children, and witnessing them stoop themselves up on a kitchen counter to watch their mama knead bread.

I smiled.

But as I kneaded my dough, I noticed something.

A small yellow stream began trickling its way across our countertop and inching closer to the very dough I was kneading.

For one millisecond, I paused….confused.

And then it clicked.

I had previously taken off my 2 year old’s diaper and forgot to put another one on her underneath her pants.

That stream.

That yellow stream.

Dare I say it?

It was….urine.

Nah, let me just say it. PEE!

I screamed in shock.

My daughter looked up in surprise and playfulness. She grinned, happy to see her mama scream like a little girl… like she did so often.

I grabbed her off the counter and placed her feet on the floor.

“Oh baby, we gotta go put your diaper on you first,” I said gently… surprising myself with my own level of calm.

She kept laughing at my previous shriek in the kitchen. She found it so funny.

When I returned to our kitchen counter, that yellow stream had already made its way to the dough.

My dough.

My dough that had taken over 24 hours of prep work. You know that dough that was supposed to now have filled my home with sweet aromas. The dough that would’ve given me the validation that I had done at least one thing right all day amid chaos. Yeah, that dough.

I scooped up the dough, placed it back into the glass bowl, and then did what any rational level-headed mother would do.

I sent a SOS text to my sisters and mama, inviting them to cry with me. They sent back laughing emojis, but that’s beside the point. I called my husband who reasonably assured me that there was no possibility of reviving dough with pee in it.

The day went on and the dough continued to sit on the counter in its glass container. For whatever reason, I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out. Every time I tried, I couldn’t do it.

Why? Was it because the preparation process involved such hard work and sacrifice on my behalf? No. I knew there was something deeper at play.

I couldn’t throw it out, because…well, I looked forward to seeing, feeling, tasting, and basking in my ONE “supposedly” predictable plan coming to fruition. The one thing I thought I could control. The one thing I could tangibly point to and glorify in.

The bread continued to sit on the counter.

By nightfall, I reluctantly tossed the dough into the trash in one quick succession—a moment I had dreaded all day. It became a physical symbol of what my actions often felt like daily...taking one step forward and three steps back (seemingly).

I headed to my room and laid across my bed, thinking about many of the day’s events. I couldn’t shake why throwing my dough out was so hard. Why I wanted to cry (outside of the normal pregnancy hormones.)

And then I felt the Holy Spirit comforting me in the stillness.

He showed me how He received glory that day.

It didn’t come by way of me being able to bake a perfect loaf of bread. It didn’t come by way of me filling my home with a sweet aroma. It didn’t come by way of me seeing the intended fruit of my hands.

The Lord was glorified by the way I gently treated my daughter when that pee touched my dough. By the way I laughed with her when I saw her laughing at me. By the way I continued to welcome her presence in the kitchen even though I felt my entire work was destroyed.

I thought the highlight of my day was going to be baking two perfect loaves of bread and feeling proud.

I never thought that the Lord’s highlight reel would include the way I treated my daughter when my plans were altered.

Why do I share this?

God may be receiving the utmost glory within your life in the midst of you feeling like you’re failing at everything.

The angels may be rejoicing, when you can’t grasp any of your intended accomplishments.

Maybe the goal isn’t physical results, but a Galatians 5 Holy Spirit-bred fruit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

Maybe stop judging your success by the measure of your own standards of success. And stop and assess what God deems to be successful.

Are you bearing eternal fruit that will last through the fire on the Final day? Do you see the fruits of the Spirit being bred in your life?

I know. Maybe your marriage doesn’t look great. Maybe y’all still aren’t in alignment in certain areas of your life…and it’s been years.

But in the midst of what you deem a lack of accomplishment, do you find yourself being more patient with your spouse? Do you find yourself not using those usual demeaning words you’d normally use in an argument? Do you find yourself walking away a little bit more quickly before an argument blows up?

Maybe your child is still acting rebellious. But do you find yourself praying more? Seeking God’s wisdom more diligently? Laying your child before the Lord a little more night after night?

Maybe you still haven’t received a bump in pay at your job yet. But do you find yourself embracing more of a James 1 disposition? Find yourself stewarding the resources the Lord has given you with more wisdom? Find yourself making a business plan that could only be birthed out of current personal frustration?

Maybe you are seeing how generational sins have wrecked your family line, and thereby family members. But are you learning more about how to break generational curses? Are you learning more about your own authority in Christ? Do you find yourself seeking to live a more consecrated life due to seeing the consequences of sin in the lives of those around you?

Let me say it again.

God may be receiving the utmost glory in the midst of you feeling like your life is crumbling or when you feel like you’re failing at everything. The angels may be rejoicing, when you can’t grasp any of your intended accomplishments. Maybe the goal isn’t physical results, but a Galatians 5 Holy Spirit-bred fruit.

Can I be honest with you?

Weeks after that night, I kept going back to the Lord in conversation with questions. I began randomly thinking about ways I thought God would work things out in me and my husband’s life to receive glory. Ways I reasoned God would move so that others would see and throw their hands up and say, “Only God can do something like that!!” I’d daydream of the miracles the Lord could perform in my husband’s and I’s life to make His Name great. In the midst of me thinking, daydreaming, wondering, asking '“why many of my daydreams have not been my lived reality”…the Lord reminded me of many testimonies from the Bible.

Perhaps, I’m in good company.

I imagine Abraham thought similarly.

TO make a great nation through Abraham’s seed, I imagine Abraham reasoned that the Lord would surely bless Abraham with multiple children immediately. Instead, the Lord chose to make a great nation from only one child birthed by Abraham’s wife, Sarah, in Abraham’s old old age.

To show neighboring nations that Israel was mighty and strong, I imagine Gideon probably thought that surely the Lord would raise up mighty men in great number to fight off the 132,000 Midianite men gathered to defeat Israel under Gideon’s leadership. Instead, the Lord told Gideon to only gather 300 men.

The Lord didn’t plan on receiving glory through Israel’s superb fighting skills. He didn’t plan to receive glory through Gideon thinking of a stellar battle plan. Gideon was a farmer, y’all. Instead, the Lord planned to receive glory by His own divine methods: utterly confusing the Midianites and having them defeat themselves.

I imagine Jacob had other plans when He wrestled with the angel of the Lord until the Lord blessed him. The Lord blessed Him all right. And Jacob walked with a limp for the rest of his life: a physical representation of the Lord’s desire for Jacob to live a life of complete dependence on Him.

I could go on.

But I’ll skip to the ultimate example.

We all would’ve thought that the King of all Kings would appear in the flesh, riding on a white horse, prepared for battle, with all His riches in full display for all to see.

Instead, God the Father received glory by sending His Son to be born in a stable with animals, in a town in which many would say “no good can come from,” in a form by which “he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Isaiah 53: 2-3)” Not only that, but He died a lowly death—on a cross.

Who would’ve thought? Who would’ve thought…this would be the means to glory?

God did.

As a follower of Christ, why make your life the exception?

Don’t manufacture glory in your life. Let the Lord receive it all…however He so desires.

I’m not quite certain how pee touching my sourdough led to these thoughts…but they did.

No matter how my day goes or doesn’t go, may the Lord receive glory from it—is what I’m learning.

So beloved, stop trying to manufacture glory through a certain result. Be the salt and the light of the world and thereby glorify your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16) through eternal fruit (Galatain 5:22-23 ). Let the results work out for themselves.

We eventually got there hahaha :). My sweet little girl helping her mama in the kitchen.

"I couldn't have imagined a smoother labor and delivery": Positive HomeBirth Story. Baby #4

Sunday, March 12th, 2023.

~39 weeks pregnant

• I woke up feeling exceptionally tired. Tired isn’t the word. I felt exhausted. We ended up streaming church that day, while I tried to lay on the couch as much as I could. For the remainder of the week, I woke up closer to 8AM, barely able to open my eyes. If I could, I would have easily remained in the bed until 11 AM…but you know, I had three other little ones to care for. Apart from my first trimester, I hadn’t felt this level of exhaustion throughout the pregnancy. But the level of tiredness I felt did feel reminiscent to the end of my first pregnancy with my firstborn son. Considering that my last two pregnancies were girls, it made me more convinced that I was carrying a boy this time around.

Wednesday-Thursday March 15th-16th, 2023.

• Mild cramping and lower back pains began. At this point, I could only manage to get through our usual morning homeschool activities. But after lunch, I let the kids independently play with one another while I laid on the couch until my husband came home. I hadn’t experienced period-like cramps with my other pregnancies and the level exhaustion seemed to have been increasing at this point.

Friday, March 17th, 2023

• I had a sudden burst of energy. My mother came over to watch the kiddos while I went out and bought a few plants for the house. I did a few house projects and felt oh-so-satisfied.

Saturday, March 18th, 2023.

• Stronger contractions began anytime I moved around the house. Most noticeably, I began to become easily irritated by the smallest of things. I was very snappy towards my husband, and I didn’t want my kids to touch me. I simply felt annoyed allllllll day and didn’t know why. The contractions weren’t consistent, nor were they very strong, but something was bothering me.

• That night, I went to bed early and slept with a peanut ball between my legs in order to create more room in my pelvic area for the baby to move on down. At this point, I felt very much ready for our baby to be born.

Sunday, March 19th, 2023

12:00 AM

• I woke up out of my sleep due to a very intense contraction. I grabbed my laptop and began watching Abbott Elementary, Season 1 Episode 1. Months prior, I made a list of shows to watch during intense contractions and postpartum nighttime feedings. Well, the contraction I experienced at 12:00AM constituted itself as an “intense” contraction, and so the episode commenced.

• For the next hour, the contractions came and went. They were intense but not super consistent. I used the restroom (i.e. diarrhea) and saw that I had lost my mucus plug. At this point, I reasoned that if I were to go into the labor within the next few hours, I wanted our kitchen and living room to be clean. We planned on having a home birth and the downstairs was a mess. I grabbed my robe and waddled downstairs, where I found my husband asleep on the couch. I began washing the dishes and woke him up to take out the trash and to help me tidy up the living room. My husband had been through enough births to know that when I was operating in a certain “mode,” he didn’t ask questions. He just obliged to any of my “absurd” demands. By 1:30 AM, everything looked to my satisfaction. I texted my midwife and doula to let them know that I had lost my mucus plug and was having more intense contractions-but nothing unbearable. I let them know that I planned on going back to sleep and would update them in a few hours.

5:30 AM

• I woke up again due to contractions and couldn’t lay back down. I texted my midwife and doula again. I knew that these contractions weren’t super intense and so I didn’t tell them to come over just yet.

6:30 AM

• Contractions ceased completely.

• All 3 kiddos woke up.

7:30 AM

• My two oldest got up and got dressed, while my husband made their breakfast. They were excited to go to church, but I knew that I needed to stay home with my husband nearby. I texted my parents to see if my two oldest kiddos could go to church with them. My husband then dropped our oldest two kiddos off with my parents while I stayed home with our one-year-old.

• At this point, I was having contractions- but again, nothing unbearable.

12:00 PM

• I laid back down and began watching Abbot Elementary. Somewhere in the middle of the episode, I fell asleep with the peanut ball in between my legs.

1:00 PM

• I woke up due to a VERY intense contraction. I went to the restroom and straddled my legs around the toilet in reverse to open up my pelvic area more. The contractions began to come full throttle.

1:40 PM

• Within a group chat with my doula, husband, and midwife, I texted my doula and asked her to come over.

• My midwife called me and said that she was on her way. I couldn’t talk through my contractions anymore.

2:15 PM

• My midwife and doula arrived. My midwife checked me and I was 7-9cm dilated. FYI: You only need to be 10cm dilated to begin pushing. My midwife began setting up her equipment and informed her assistants to head on over. My doula and I began to do abdominal lift and tucks during the contractions to help the baby engage the pelvis. After our fourth or so abdominal lift and tuck, I felt lots of pressure in my pelvis and wanted to move downstairs (away from our carpeted floor) in case I was ready to begin pushing.

3:00 PM

• After moving through several contractions downstairs, I moved to our 1/2 bathroom to straddle my legs around the toilet. My midwife reminded me that I typically made the most progress in this position. Sure enough, my water broke minutes later. My baby was moving on down. I recall my midwife saying, “Jessica, do you need to push? I need you to get up.” I wailed back, “I CAN’T. I don’t want to get up!” With this being the third pregnancy that my midwife has overseen, I’ve learned when my midwife is being firm, despite her very very gentle approach. “Jessica, I need you to get up for the safety of the baby.” I got up and went back to the living room for her to check me. I recall needing her reassurance that my contractions were not in vain. “The baby is going down right?” I asked. My midwife retorted, “This baby can’t go any further down,” she looked up with a smile. Even still, I didn’t believe her. I wanted everything to be over. I felt so tired.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My mom stopped by and tried to stay in the background. My doula asked if it would be good if my mama could hug me for a second. My mom was elated to do so. She gave me a quick hug and kiss before leaving.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

This was me sitting on our toilet in our 1/2 bathroom while going through more intense contractions. At one point, my water broke in this position. How convenient for clean up haha.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Our one-year-old daughter was waiting to be picked up by my husband’s parents while I was in labor. Isn’t she the cutest?!

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Listening to my Christian Hypnobirthing App truly helped me breathe through the contractions. I love their visualizations track.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My husband peeping his head over to see me, while I labored in our 1/2 bathroom. He was simultaneously looking after our one-year-old as well.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Smiling in between contractions. When you’re not contracting, life feels so normal lol.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

I was minutes away from pushing at this point. My midwife knelt down beside me and whispered the most beautiful prayer over me. She prayed for my strength.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My doula supporting me through some very intense contractions.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

I knew I could begin pushing but I felt so tired. I asked my midwife if I could just lay down for a second to rest up. She told me I could. She asked my husband to support me from behind. The moment I felt my husband’s touch, my entire body just relaxed all-around. I asked my midwife if I could push from that position and she said I could. I usually pushed my children out on my hands and knees, but I felt so tired and that position on my husband felt too good. I began pushing.

My husband supporting me minutes before I began pushing.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Baby BOY ARRIVED at 4:04 PM!

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

PURE ELATION! I seriously couldn’t believe that it was all over. I was in complete disbelief.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

The very moment that my husband found out that we had a BOY! This was our first time finding out the gender of our baby.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My husband’s expression…simply priceless.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Moments after being born.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

EUPHORIC HIGH.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My 3 sisters on FaceTime after hearing the news.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Three generations in one photo. What a gift.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

To any beautiful mama about to have her baby. Eat your dates, do your squats, get chiropractic care, go through child birth education classes. But you better not forget this…

“ …apart from me you can do nothing.” -Jesus John 15:5

So pray my sister. And ask those around you to do the same. You got this :)!

Eli James Stephens

7lbs 12 oz

March 19th, 4:04 PM.

Psalm 127:3 “Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.”

Thank you for the prayers, the gifts, the cards, the food, the love. Thank you.

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Yes, I'm Pregnant. Child #4. Here's How I Found Out.

“How many children did you say you wanted?” my beautician asked abruptly.  

All eyes turned to my small demeanor. 

I sat silent.

“Five,”  I said with the utmost confidence, so as to not sound like I was still in elementary school…because I was.

 5th grade to be exact.  

Laughter ensued. 

The most sincere smiles glanced my way.

 I could tell that many wanted to pinch my cheeks, as if such gestures were still allowed at my age.  

“Wait until you have one,” the other beauticians chimed in unison. 

I could see that they held experience. I solely had vision.

That is… until I experienced the birth of my firstborn.

The desire for more kids never waned. A desire that I knew I hadn't conjured up. A desire placed inside me at a young age for some divine reason. 

That is….until the delivery of my second child, Ada Rose. 

One week after her birth, I sat on my couch with our newborn daughter, wondering how in the world other mothers around the world could even desire to have more than two children. I’d just persevered through a natural birth, then through a period of painful afterbirth contractions, and then through too many hours of breast engorgement.

At this point, I felt my hormones dipping quickly and felt a strong need for a good cry. To escape the feeling of loneliness, I chose to distract myself by watching a show on television.

As I began to sink into further despair, wondering when I’d begin to feel “normal” again or happy, I felt the Lord speak. 

Interestingly, I didn’t hear words of comfort from the Holy Spirit.

Instead, the Lord led me to place my hand over my still very mushy womb and make a declaration.

I hesitated for a few minutes. I knew exactly what the Lord wanted me to say aloud,  but I didn’t think I held any level of sincerity to match the coming words. The prompting continued until the words poured forth from my mouth like a dam bursting in great momentum. 

“Lord, this womb is yours,” I said with tears blurring any vision I had while  staring at the screen.  “Have your way. Birth as many precious souls as you so desire through me. I surrender this womb in Your Hands.” 

I felt my words declare something pivotal. It’s a memory forever etched in my short recourse of these last few years.

 A few short months after that moment, my husband and I found out that I was pregnant with our third child, Elena Grace.

She was born in September 2021.

 “When do you want to consider trying again?” I asked my husband when Elena was a few months old.

“I don’t know. But I won’t even consider having the conversations until Elena (our third child) is at least 18 months old to 2 years old.” 

“Yeah, I agree. That way we can enjoy our ten year marriage anniversary,” I smiled playfully, imagining us on a beach in Aruba in the distant future. 

We continued to be asked “the question” by strangers: “ Do you all want any more kids?” 

“ Yeah we do. But we definitely want to wait,” I often stated, with a tone that I hoped conveyed one of a responsible adult.  “There are  a couple of things I’d like to have before getting pregnant again.”  ( A bigger car and a bigger house, for sure- I always thought to myself.)

One morning, my husband took the kids and made their breakfasts while I got some time alone to journal and complete my morning Bible study questions. I went through my routine as normal until one question from my Bible study lesson halted my flow of thought. 

The question stated, “In which ways are you like Peter, walking across the water and not trusting Jesus?”

I couldn’t think of anything and so I asked the Holy Spirit to show me. 

During that time,  I hadn’t really been hearing clearly from the Lord on certain things and so it surprised me when the Lord spoke to me so clearly.

“You’ve been saying that you want to wait to have your next child until you have a bigger house and a bigger car, but I tell you that when you get pregnant again IT WILL BE THE PERFECT TIMING.” 

I wrote what I heard so clearly and moved on in answering my other Bible study questions. 

“How was your time with the Lord?” my husband asked after I returned downstairs to the kitchen. 

I turned to the sink and began washing dishes. “It was good, but I got the strangest conviction about something.”  I shared with him what I felt the Lord was saying and we both shrugged our shoulders and carried on about our days. 

Neither of us knew that…

 I was already pregnant with our fourth child.  

 When I  found out privately, I didn’t know how to respond. But I felt that my response to this news was crucial, spiritually. With the pregnancy test still in my hand, I dropped to my knees and said, “Thank You Lord for this child. I trust You.” 

When my husband found out, he thought he misread the results of my test at first. He laughed in disbelief.

“You for real?” he asked.

“Yeah”

“Wait….how?” he asked. We were actively avoiding a pregnancy. 

“Well, praise the Lord,” he exclaimed and kept laughing. 

Later on, the Lord gave me another Word from Him with the same level of clarity and distinction as His first message to me. 

“You are blessed and highly favored,” I heard during my alone time the very next morning. Despite what our bank account showed. Despite the long list of “wants” I still desired. Despite what others saw, I was  blessed and highly favored.  I am blessed and highly favored. 

We are expecting our fourth child– Spring 2023. 

And we couldn’t be happier.

P.S. I’m currently 23 weeks pregnant. I’ll be sharing soon how the Lord has been crazy blessing us  throughout this pregnancy!! I CANNOT keep the detailings of His specific hand of favor and sovereignty over my family’s life to myself. Will be sharing in full soon.  

Psalm 127:3-5 

Children are a heritage from the Lord,

    offspring a reward from him.

Like arrows in the hands of a warrior

    are children born in one’s youth.

Blessed is the man

    whose quiver is full of them.

They will not be put to shame

    when they contend with their opponents in court.

Be careful to not call a burden what the Lord considers of the utmost blessing. 

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When I was little, my friend and I vowed to never become like our mothers. Well, here's how I did exactly that.

Growing up, I had several friends whose mothers were friends with my mom as well. One afternoon, my mom and I decided to visit one of these family  friends for a quiet Saturday afternoon. While my friend and I were chatting, I witnessed my mother talking in immense detail about a fern—a type of flowerless plant—to my friend’s mother.

My mom wanted to know where the fern was purchased, how much water the fern required, and which window the fern needed to be placed in order to get the maximum amount of light.

They talked for over half an hour. My friend’s mother was just as equally engaged with excitement.

My friend and I looked at our mothers in astonishment. We then  promised one another that we would never become like our mothers—talking at length about a plant. We were destined to do more important things in our life. 

I’m now a full-time homemaker and mother to three little ones.  Seeing a  leaf sprout on my fiddle leaf tree leaves me in sheer awe and wonder. 

Growing up, I wanted to do important things. Things that would cause grave consequences if mishandled. I wanted to be in a position of authority governing serious matters. Life and death situations. For instance, I pictured  myself  in the operating room saving someone’s life. At someone’s deathbed sharing the Gospel.  At someone’s doorstep providing a life-saving meal. 

Years ago, during one of my college breaks,  I sat outside the doorstep of my parent’s home and allowed my mind to roam as I envisioned my future. Day after day I looked into the clouds and asked the Lord to use my hands, my feet, and all of my being for something great. 

Something great. 

Yes, I wanted to do important things.

 I still do.

And I am. 

When my husband comes home from work, he tries to match my excitement surrounding what I consider “major” events of the day that leave me beaming from ear to ear. Whether it's a new leaf that sprouted on one of our plants, or the fact that I got to finally clean our sofas with our  new upholstery cleaner,  or the fact that I managed to not have a meltdown after cleaning, cooking, homeschooling, and getting everyone dressed…these are often my highlights from the day.

He truly tries to match my level of excitement. I often smile at his earnest attempts.

Who have I become? 

Humor me while I share a quick story. 

I recently bought a new pair of sheets from a store called Tuesday Morning. Unfortunately, the sheets didn’t meet my expectations in terms of texture.  Therefore, the first opportunity I had to sneak away from the kiddos, I drove to Tuesday Morning to complete the quick return. 

The moment I stepped through Tuesday Morning’s double doors, two older workers greeted me without hesitation. I saw no one else in the store and became hopeful that my trip would indeed be quick and efficient. I followed one of the workers as she motioned me to her cashier’s window. After explaining to the worker that I was doing a return, she asked me the expected question,  “What’s the reason for your return?”

“The sheets were stiffer than I'd liked,” I responded in short, trying not to look at the clock for the time.  

“Oh goodness, they are! Come here and feel these,” she said while motioning to her coworker to come feel the sheets. 

Her level of interest in my complaint intrigued me and took me slightly aback. 

“Oh goodness. They are stiff,” the other worker stated in disbelief. 

I hesitated, in shock by their commentary.

I opened up a bit more. 

“Yeah. I had never heard of this brand but wanted to give them a try. I even asked one of your coworkers last time I was here for advice on this  brand. But I’m going to stick with Peddleton from now on.” 

“Yes, Peddleton has some really good sheets,” she said with emphasis. 

Someone who understood my world. 

“And Patty, come here and look at the color of the pillow case. It’s different colors than the actual sheets. I mean it just looks like a rank pink. Do you see that?” 

Patty shook her head. The different colors in the sheets disturbed her too. 

“Oh wow. No, I didn't notice that. You’re right it is,” I chimed in with a bit of awe—less at the sheets and entirely at their concern. 

The unexpected camaraderie between these women and I, while we discussed sheets, made me giddy. 

Two ladies who took just as much care as I did to feel the texture, to analyze the color, to envision the feel… of sheets. 

Two ladies who didn’t view my purchasing decision as insignificant. 

Two ladies who understood the importance of having quality sheets.  

Did these ladies know that this short conversational exchange would be the highlight of my day that I’d share with my husband later? 

They didn’t.

She continued.

“You can’t go wrong with Peddleton.”

I couldn't go wrong with Peddleton. 

I grabbed my sheets  and drove home.

For the next several weeks, I kept thinking about Patty and her coworker. Thoughts plagued me until I wrote down what I learned that day.

Here it is.

 You don't know the feel of quality sheets until you’ve slept on 100% polyester. 

You don’t know the taste of a home-cooked meal until you’ve been forced to have takeout for weeks. 

You don't know what it feels like to come home to the feeling of home until you’ve moved into your first home and attempt to recreate that feeling for years. 

You don’t know the importance of creating memories until you lose your grasp on time as you get older and time somehow moves at triple speed. 

I never knew how nor why my mother would spend Saturday afternoons  in stores looking for display plants. Or why she wanted to spend several days decorating our home for Christmas. Or why she wanted us to all dress up to take family photos….

Or why she could talk at length about a plant. 

I am destined for greatness. 

I do important things. 

I became my mother in this way. 

And I’m so happy I did. 

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My beautiful mother with my three precious kiddos.

We Discovered $5K Outside Our Doorstep

We bought a townhome in late January of this year, and the first thing my husband said before we even signed the dotted line was the following: "We are going to cut down that tree, immediately." He was referring to a very large shrub growing on the back patio. 

Fast-forward four months, limbs were growing wild. Our entrance from our detached garage into our home was becoming blocked by this wild-growing plant. Anytime we walked from our detached garage, across our patio, and into our home...we would have to strategically move our heads so as to avoid limbs and spider webs. I was ready to begin hacking away myself. The shrub was becoming more of an annoyance. It bloomed once and March and then just as quickly the blooms died. I wasn't sure if the shrub was any good.

One day, my father-in-love came to visit. He immediately took notice of the interesting situation going on on our patio. And without mentioning it to us, he called one of his landscapers to come out the next day to properly shape the shrub.

"Just cut it all the way down," my husband said the next morning when the landscaper came by. 

I inwardly agreed. At this point, I didn't care what happened to the shrub. We had a baby coming in 4 weeks or so, and I was becoming annoyed at the thought of always bending my head and watching out for spider webs every time I entered our patio from the detached garage.

The landscaper carefully noted our vivid requests. But then he said the unthinkable.

"You know what this is?"

My husband's dumbfounded look, coupled with his lack of interest in knowing the genus identification of some shrub, simply shook his head.

The landscaper went on to answer his own question. 

"If you sold this, this would be worth $5-6K easily. This is a grandfather Azealia. Whoever had this before you took really good care of it. It takes years and years of maintenance for an Azealia to grow to be this size. You just have a little fungus on it. But I'm telling you, people want something like this."

My ears perked up. My husband's eyes looked more delightful. I could see my husband making calculations and pitching creative ways for us to invest this money.

I walked back inside and made breakfast. While I watched the landscaper trim the shrub, I couldn't help but see God.

Just a few days ago, we were considering cutting down our biggest treasure in our patio because we didn't know its value. We only saw it as an annoyance.

How often do we do this and even advise others to do so?

We see a struggle, a trial, an annoyance...and quickly find ways to get rid of it in order to make life "easier, less stressful, more efficient" etc.

Here's the lesson learned.

Stop cutting things out of your life that was meant to make you look more like Jesus—Your greatest treasure.

Often times your greatest sore, your greatest annoyances, your greatest trials...are actually the refining that the Lord is using to make you rely and depend on Him—ultimately leading you into greater communion, greater spiritual maturity, and greater patience.

James 1 says, 
"2 My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, 3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. 4 But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing."


Before you choose to give up on your child who has run your nerves amuck, or to quit your job because you're not being valued, or to stop that project because things simply aren't coming together as smoothly as you'd like, or to cut that friend out of your life because he or she is just too much...first ask the Lord is this a treasure in disguise? Because before you take out the scissors to cut certain people out of your life or certain things, you may be cutting out a treasure that is being birthed in you... which is Jesus.

Pondered Thought: What are some hidden treasures in your life right now that the Lord is using to refine you?

(P.S. Right now, my greatest trials are seeing the goodness of the Lord even in the midst of uncontrolled schedules, potty training, hormonal fluctuations, and feeling needed all the time. In the midst of this, I can still find the goodness of the Lord and make the choice to depend on Him even more. Oh, how I need Him. And if you were wondering, we couldn’t sell the azalea because the roots go down so deep that it would upend the foundation of our patio if uprooted lol. )

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A Man Stole My Cellphone in Whole Foods, Then Returned It To Me

Have you seen War Room?

It’s a movie about the power of prayer. The most memorable scene in the film occurs when an elderly lady is robbed at knifepoint. In typical thematic fashion, the elderly woman stared at her perpetrator point-blankly and stated, “Now you put that knife down right now, in the name of Jesus!”

And then he did. 

I can’t lie, sometimes I act this scenario out in my head. I imagine what I’d do if someone were to try to harm me or my children. And then I think back on this film. I envision myself saying “In the name of Jesus” and then the heavens part and a flame of fire descends on the attacker, while I stand heroically saying, “No one messes with a child of God.” Of course, I then walk away while others look on in amazement. 

Well, something sort of like this actually happened in real life. Except, I didn’t have that big self-congratulatory moment in the end. It was more like me awkwardly standing in awe. Confused. Trying to process what God had just done. 

A few months ago, Evan Sr. (husband) and I left church and headed to Whole Foods to pick up a few items. Evan Sr. dropped me and our 8-month old son off in front of the store (our son was very clingy at this age and also wanted to get out of his carseat), while he circled the block. I grabbed the few items that we needed, and then made my way quickly to the cashier.

 Reaching for my phone to call my husband to meet us out front, I discovered that my phone was missing. I had it moments earlier in a small opening in the grocery cart (I know, probably not the best place). And so a logical guess would be that it fell out as I was walking to the cash register. But the moment I realized my phone was missing, I had the unmistakable feeling that it was stolen. 

Making my way to Customer Service, I explained to the rep my situation: 

“Hi, this is an odd request but my phone was just stolen (I felt so sure).  Could I use your phone to call my husband?” 

Before I move forward, you have to understand Chicago. There are sides to Chicago that feel uppity, foreign, and cold and certain persons give off that vibe. Then there are sides to Chicago that can make you feel like you’re sitting on your grandmother's fluffy carpeted floor, watching reruns of Sanford and Son, and eating apple pie and homemade ice cream on a Sunday afternoon.  

The lady at customer service reflected the latter.

“What’s your number? What Ima do is, call your phone, and then you walk around the store and see if you hear it ringing.” 

I loved her already.

Before I knew it, Evan Jr. and I were walking the perimeter of the store inching our ears to hear a ring. Coming around the corner, I saw the lady at customer service heading in our direction, walking at a pace of purpose. 

“Okay I saw him! He’s in a black trench coat and walked out the door and headed towards Office Depot. You can catch him now if you leave! I called your number twice and heard it on him, but you gotta head out right now!” she said in one incredible breath. 

“Ohhh… I can't do that. Lemme call my husband first.” I said, amazed (and slightly concerned)  by her boldness. 

“Well, okay. But you really could just catch up to him. You’ll be fine,” she said, while leading me back to her station

By this time she had a customer she needed to service. This meant that I had to wait until she was done servicing the customer before I could call Evan Sr.

  I knew that Evan Sr. had probably grown concerned due to the amount of time I’d been in the store up until that point. There was absolutely no way for me to contact him and the customer in front of me was taking an unusually long time to be helped. Finally, I just turned around and asked a stranger for his cell phone.

I called Evan and he immediately answered.

“Hey Bae, someone just stole my phone. The customer service lady called it and said she heard a guy walking out with it and heading towards Office Depot. Could you track my location?” 

Evan Sr. had already interjected a few times (with a few emphatic words) in the middle of me explaining, but then he quickly got off the phone upon hearing two words: track location.

So there I stood in line. Evan Sr. and I got off the phone without any sort of plan for what I was to do or agreed upon meeting place for me to be picked up at. Either way, I still needed to purchase my food items and so when I was finally next in line to check out, I pulled out my items to be scanned. 

“Did you get your phone?” the customer service lady asked, while bagging my items. 

“No.” 

Pulling out my card to pay, I looked up for a second and made eye contact with a young man. A young man who was heading in my direction from across the store. Whose eyes were solely locked in on me. 

Trench jacket. 

He came closer, and when he was one foot away from me, he pulled out my phone and politely asked, “Is this yours?” 

Without waiting for an answer (I must’ve nodded my head speechless), he dropped the phone in my hands and then turned around and headed towards the exit. 

I stood paralyzed. Completely shocked.

Bagging the last few items, the customer service lady saw the entire event transpire. Yet, she didn’t look the least bit surprised.

“Yeah. See, some people can still make the right choice. I spoke to him on the phone and he told me that he was going to come back and give you the phone,” she said without blinking.

“Wait. So you spoke to him on the phone when you called?”

“Yeah.” She, continued bagging while looking down. Then she continued. “He said that he’d passed Office Depot and figured that it was his lucky day, but then he started to feel really bad and said he was going to turn around. Alright, Here’s your receipt.” 

And just like that, I was on my way, phone in hand.

 I called Evan Sr. and made it to the car safely with our baby boy. 

Evan Sr. pulled up and I opened the door to the backseat. 

“How’d you get your phone?” Evan Sr. asked bewildered. 

 He kept talking while I strapped Evan Jr. into his car seat.  I didn’t answer. So my husband continued talking.

“I tracked your location and it was near Office Depot but then it started to head back towards Whole Foods,” he said, desiring an answer to his initial question. 

I climbed into the passenger's seat, buckled my seatbelt, and then stared out the windshield in pure awe. 

As we drove home that day, I gave Evan Sr. the complete rundown as to what happened.

A man stole my phone at Whole Foods, left the premises, and then voluntarily returned in person to give it back to me.

No fear of consequences, no fear of my reaction, no fear of me potentially calling the police.

He just walked up to me and gave me my phone, as if nothing happened. 

It didn’t make sense.

Later on that night, Evan and I watched a movie, made sure that no locators or bugs were placed on my phone, spoke about our day’s events some more, and then settled into bed. But before going to sleep, I continued to reflect on the day’s events. I found myself asking the same question, “Why?” Why would someone steal something...get away with it...and then turn around voluntarily and return it?  

And that's when I felt the sweet response. I received the answer in my heart.  

“No one messes with a child of God.”  

“18 I will love You, O Lord, my strength.
2 The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer;
My God, my strength, in whom I will trust;
My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
3 I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised;
So shall I be saved from my enemies.”

— Psalm 18:1-3

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Avoiding God and don’t know why? 1 practical habit to implement now.

I’m a loyal Costco shopper. I was before getting married, after getting married, and even moreso after having a child. I love everything about it. I love the deals on household appliances, on clothes, and especially on the frozen organic fruit and vegetable section. And did you know about their gas prices? Anywho, on any given week, you'll find me strolling the aisles of Costco, breathing in the familiar fragrance of…bland air.

A couple of weeks ago, I walked down an aisle containing endless amounts of chips. For anyone who knows me, I love quality potato chips. So I grabbed a bag of the Kirkland’s Krinkle cut kettle chips with the Himalayan salt.

In no time I was driving on a Chicago highway with one hand on the wheel and the other hand effortlessly mining through this huge bag of chips like a professional.

The chips were so good that I found myself eating them a couple of days later... for breakfast. No warm water with lemon. No supplements. No smoothie. Instead, I couldn’t wait to taste the pure saltiness and greasiness of these chips right when I first woke up. It didn’t end there though. My cravings turned into wanting salt’s feigned cousin... sugar. Therefore, shortly after, I found myself eating some good dark chocolate and vegan ice cream for dinner. No lentils. No sweet potatoes. No salad. I didn’t care. Let’s just say, I enjoyed myself.

How’d I end up there? It’s really not that deep. Through a set of daily choices, I quickly trained my tastebuds to crave fat, salt, and sugar.

What is deep though, is how often we end up developing spiritual cravings that are just as strong and just as unhealthy. Things that once gave us periodic pleasure become items we can’t live without.

Allow me to explain.

During the week of my potato chip episode, I coincidentally had been struggling in my relationship with God. Simply put, I’d been avoiding Him.

Nothing major happened that caused this shift in my pursuit of the Lord. In fact, life was going well. The moments of me coming close to insanity as a stay at home mom, with a new child, were becoming less frequent. My husband and I were in a really good place maritally. And my schedule was becoming more pleasant on a day to day basis. So things were good. But for whatever reason, I found myself avoiding God. Call it a spiritual attack... or spiritual laziness, but all I know is, deep down, getting through the day become more of a priority than encountering God throughout my day.  

Here’s how it happened and how I came to the realization.

First my mornings became more busy than usual. One day led to another and I found myself not spending time alone with God. In doing this, I started to feel an odd loneliness. Almost like an emptiness. But I was feeling it unconsciously because I didn’t make the connection between my lack of spending time with God and this empty feeling.

Therefore, I chose to busy myself more to escape the feeling. The more time that passed, the more the idea of reading the Bible appeared less appealing and more burdensome (see how Satan works?). Housework and Podcasts appeared as more credible escapes and outlets then plugging into the Ultimate Source.

Suddenly, I had everything to do and so little time to do them.

But secretly, I didn’t mind. Because deep down, I desired to hide behind my schedule as the reason why I couldn’t spend time in God’s Presence (or rather in the awareness of His Presence).  Anytime I did squeeze my devotional somewhere in the day, I dreaded it and mainly did it out of obligation.

Everything culminated when my husband had to go out of town for work. I’m used to him traveling, but this time, I felt down even before he left. Like I was sad an entire 48 hours before he left. Once he did leave, an incredible level of loneliness shrouded my being and before I knew it, I felt myself craving noise. Be it social media, youtube videos, even good sermons. I needed some kind of noise to distract me from what I was feeling.

I felt myself literally turning to everything else...except God.

With my husband being gone, I found myself with more time on my hands and even more excuses as to why I just didn’t have to just “Be still and know that He was God.”

On the second or third day of my husband’s absence, my son and I sat down to read a children’s book gifted by his grandparents. The book was entitled “Good Good Father” by Chris Tomlin and Josh Barrett. This activity was not out of the usual, because I attempt to read at least one story to my son every day (even though I sometimes wonder if my son appreciates my voice inflections, sound effects, and careful pauses between pages, since he often chooses to chew on another book or open and close drawers a few feet away).

But that day as I read, something strange happened. My son decided to chew on another book as usual. But the strange part was that I myself became unawaringly engrossed in the storyline of this new book. This little bear was hoping to bring the perfect gift to the King in order to win the King’s approval. Therefore, taking the advice of so many different animals, the little bear brought the King a plethora of gifts.  But by the end of the story, the little bear realized that all the King wanted was the little bear. The little bear was the perfect gift. Y’all, I got choked up.

I felt the Holy Spirit trying to get my attention. There was a brief pause. A brief moment in which I felt my Lord waiting for me to respond to His open invitation for me to simply walk through the door and return to our usual communion.

 But I craved more noise. The dishes could be washed. Another blog post could be written. I could return more calls and texts. Baby Evan needed my attention. And so I ignored the brief trickled tear and busied myself on to the next task.

But everything reversed through one habit the Lord taught me to implement later on that week. It made me stop in my tracks, stop running from Him without reason, and retract from the noise and distraction.

Here it is—Choose God first in the morning.

Not because you “have to,” but because you get to. Similar to how a salty chip set off my taste buds for the day towards craving salt and sugar, what you initially feed your Spirit can set a trajectory for what you inwardly desire throughout the day.

I realize now that it is critical for me to begin my day hearing God’s whisper before I amp up the noise. What I mean by this is that before I listen to the news, turn on a video, check my text messages, and scroll through social media, I can hear God so much more clearly when I choose Him first.

I can also feel most satisfied when I allow my hunger to be met by His manna before I devour empty junk. This is not meant to be legalistic. Literally just 2 days ago,  I set out to do my devotional and baby Evan had a huge blowout which caused me to have to give him a bath and then I decided to shower and then he was hungry...and so the day went. But whenever the Lord graces my day to do so, it’s been a joy to wake up with His love and His Word being the first thing to quench my thirst.

Sometimes this looks like me devouring just one verse, and sometimes this looks like me devouring a couple of chapters. Sometimes this looks like me journaling and praying and worshiping for half an hour and sometimes this looks like me only being able to say a quick prayer before the baby wakes up. Lately, this has looked like me waking up and simply not doing anything but stopping and receiving God’s love by asking “Abbah Father, how much do you love me? What do you love about me?” and then simply basking in His love so that I can love others.  My point is this: Choose God first. I deeply believe He will honor your time with Him when you do this. Just try it!

(Why do I think this habit is so effective? I don’t believe God desires to compete with your noise. I often desire for Him to yell and scream over the bussiness of my life in order to grab my attention. But what I’m learning is that He loves to whisper. Anyone can yell to someone miles away. But a whisper is heard to the one who is nearby. He loves when we are close! He doesn’t move, but we often wander.)  

PonderedThought:

What do you feed yourself at the start of your day? What do you allow your eyes to consume when you first wake up? Do you check your email, social media, or text messages first thing? Do you turn up the noise before hearing God’s whisper?  I challenge you to set out by choosing the Lord’s manna, which is His Word, and talking to the Lord first. When you do, share with me and with others what happens.

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On my wedding day...I didn't know I'd be saying "I do" to this.

Sometimes I look at him and wonder. I wonder where the butterflies went, the sweaty hands that suddenly found stability, the upset stomach that sequestered calm, and the frantic eyes that somehow steadied. I look at my husband and am more drawn into the mystery of what brought us together.

Of course, his charm, his humor, and his really good looks helped. But more deeply, I wonder what made us say “yes” to each other and “no” to the rest. Was it my go-to perfume that put his head in a daze? Or was it my sharp sass that held him in want? Was it his swag coupled with quick wit that kept me on my toes? I point largely to the exterior, not due to vanity but due to the fact that without any other reason,  I don't know what brought us together, what made our eyes lock into one, and what made our hearts pant deeply for one another...except for God.

On our first date, we didn’t discuss the number of children we wanted, where we desired to live long-term, the percentage of our check we’d like to see in our 401K, or our anticipated parenting styles. We talked. We laughed. And an uncanny chemistry drew us closer and wouldn’t let us go.

You see the older I get, the more this mystery becomes of growing intrigue. Because when I said “I do,” I really didn’t know exactly what I’d be saying “I do” to.

I didn’t know I’d be saying “I do” to a man who held strong faith in God when we were unexpectedly down to 1 income 3 months after marriage. One who’d try to understand me when I was PMSing and I needed a huge hug right around my waist (but not too tight). One who didn’t make fun of me when I was having extreme pregnancy hormones and missed my mom and sisters and decided to watch Steel Magnolias at 4 AM on a Sunday morning, wept loudly at the end, and then proceeded to get dressed for church as if nothing happened.

I didn’t know I said “I do” to a man who is an amazing father and who cherishes greatly the legacy he passes down.  I didn’t know I said “I do” to a visionary, to one who asks “why” at the most inopportune, yet crucial times, and one who debates me for fun or for my sheer annoyance.  I didn’t know I said “I do” to these things, and yet I did.

Sure, we dated for a long time, talked seriously about our future goals, discussed our compatibility and sought pre-marital counseling. But even with all of these things, saying “I do” took a leap of faith. For when anyone says “I do,” one can’t see the coming arguments, the full extent of a spouse’s sinful condition, all of the difference of opinions, nor life’s different trials that comes with simply living.

And yet every argument my husband and I have, every sinful condition we wrestle out of each other, every difference of opinion that challenges our worldview, every unexpected trial that comes our way, reassures me all the more that I said “I do” to the right man. I said “I do” to my forever love. I didn’t know all these things then. And yet I made the right choice. That puzzles me. 

Proverbs 30: 18-19

18 There are three things which are too wonderful for me,

           Four which I do not understand:

19 The way of an eagle in the sky,

          The way of a serpent on a rock,

           The way of a ship in the middle of the sea,

           And the way of a man with a maid.

I can’t put my finger on what exactly drew us together. It’s hard to articulate the unseen attraction felt that was noticeably different from previous lusts. And it’s even more unnerving to evidence the certainty we both felt in knowing we were each other’s forever-early on. For when I made a vow, I honestly didn’t know what all that vow would entail.

And yet, I looked into my soon-to-be husband’s eyes on our wedding day, and said “for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, till death do us part…I do.”  That’s the essence of marriage—faith. I didn’t know the exact direction life would take us...and I still don’t. But don’t you see that that’s the mystery and the beauty of marriage?

We didn’t know. We don’t know. And yet we said, and say “I do.”

PonderedThought: What are some things that you said “I do” to that you didn’t know would occur in your own marriage? If not married, what are some things you’re already considering saying “I do” to that you’ve put great thought into?

Additionally, if you’re a believer, ponder more deeply on the fact that God said “I do” to you while knowing your full sinful condition. While knowing when you’d turn your back on Him. While knowing when you’d choose the things of this world over Him. And yet, He said, and continues to say “I do” to you every single day. That too is the mystery and beauty of a covenant relationship with God.

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Wanna get into the Christmas Spirit?…Here’s how

Confession. I don’t recall the last time that I was in the Christmas Spirit. Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love Christmas. But that warm anticipatory feeling that I’d get as a child, ceased sometime before high school. After last year, I realized that I didn’t want my Christmas of 2018 to be the same as it had been in previous years.

I didn’t want to wake up on Christmas morning only concerned about which foods to eat, which outfit to wear, and whether or not I purchased all the right presents. I wanted this year to be different.

So at the start of this past October, I started getting ready. By October 1st, I’d already planned the weekend that my family and I would go apple picking at an orchard. This was in effort to get into the “Fall” spirit.

But each weekend brought on a different weather fatality that unfortunately altered our plans.

Then Thanksgiving came. I planned on baking some pretty awesome vegan treats. Yeah, for whatever reason that didn’t happen either.

And Christmas decorations? I didn’t see it as a priority this year, budget wise; nor did I feel like begging Evan, my husband, to help me hang some lights (I choose my battles wisely.)

So as December approached, I found myself nowhere near having the “Christmas Spirit,” despite my elaborate plans at the start of October. But then, unexpectedly, and quite randomly in my opinion, the Lord challenged me to cut out all entertainment for 21 days. Yeah. Movies, shows (This is Us!), my random YouTube videos, endless Facebook videos that Y'all like share, and my love to watch different interviews (yas...Michelle Obama’s recent book tour interviews).

Well, I began doing this on Nov. 24th, and after 10 or so days...I still wasn’t in the Christmas Spirit.

So when thinking about this one afternoon, the Lord showed me that I was attempting, and failing miserably, at conjuring up this Christmas Spirit, because I equated the Christmas Spirit to my ability to resuscitate nostalgia. Nostalgia that was filled with sweet times as a child, giggly emotions, and anticipatory angst that was both fun and pure. Yet, a nostalgia which honestly had nothing to do with Him (Christ).

How often do we do this? How often do we find the necessity to reenact (i.e. traditions, experiences, etc.) in order to relive an emotion…and call that having the Christmas Spirit? 

Entertainment is usually where I run towards to conjure up this nostalgia. By doing this, I place my faith in a movie or a song to quench a thirst that was once readily filled by waking up on Christmas day and seeing a considerable amount of presents under a tree.

But like I said, somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, that thirst stopped being quenched, those warm feelings leading up to Christmas disappeared, and the excitement of opening presents just didn’t do it for me like it used to. And every attempt to bring these feelings back stopped working.. Hence, why I’d find myself saying in my head, year after year, “I’m just not in the Christmas Spirit.”

But here’s what I’ve learned this year.

I need to redefine what it means to be in the Christmas Spirit.

To be in the Christmas Spirit is not playing Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas” on repeat (such a good song right?!), nor watching Home Alone, It’s a Wonderful Life and a host of Hallmark Movies. Trust me. I’ve tried them all..

My favorite Christmas move.

To be in the Christmas Spirit is to practice being more aware of the Holy Spirit.

So often we hear that Christmas isn’t about presents but His Presence.

But how much of His Presence are we actively seeking Dec. 1st- 24th?

Maybe, exchanging presents isn’t the culprit to Christmas.

Perhaps it’s the lack of being aware of His Presence leading up to Christmas that can make giving presents stressful, preparing food a burden, and going through a rehearsed schedule, year to year, as if going through the motions like any other holiday.

So as we wait for Dec. 25th, the celebration of Jesus’ birthday, the best gift to Earth, let us not unconsciously forsake the gift we have right now…which is His Spirit. His Presence is readily available and very much wanting to interact with you.

“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. ”

— Jeremiah 29:13

Now that I’ve cut out entertainment (for the time being), I’ve been amazed by how clearly I’ve been hearing and experiencing the Holy Spirit’s power in my personal life and especially in my prayer life. (As a result, the Holy Spirit has also been making me more acutely aware of  my hidden sins--another blog post for another time.)

So I can honestly say now, “I’m in the Christmas Spirit y’all!!”

Maybe next year, I’ll bake and decorate some cookies with Evan Jr., our son. 

Maybe I’ll pop some homemade popcorn and stream my favorite Christmas movie to watch with Evan Sr.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll go to a Christmas lighting ceremony with them both.

But this will all be done in addition to, and not in replacement of, trying to get into the Christmas Spirit. I already have His Holy Spirit, which is the ultimate essence of getting into the “Christmas Spirit.”

PonderedThought:

What are some things you could do to be more aware of the Presence of the Holy Spirit right now? Is it baking cookies? Watching that movie? Or does He want you to be more aware and appreciative of the Holy Spirit?

For the next couple of days, I challenge you to unplug from any “go to” thing that is crowding you from being more aware of the Holy Spirit. Consider this not a fast. But more so, a passionate pursuit of your Comforter, Guide, Intercessor, and Lover.

Your “go to” could be television, Hulu, Netflix, food, social media, or even work. Ask the Lord, and He will graciously guide you.

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