Flannel vs. Lace

Posted on March 4, 2012 by Joy

Grab your favorite beverage and get comfortable because we are going to talk about sex.

Yep, I said it. S-E-X.

I cannot keep quiet about this any longer! Married people, you are missing it. You’re missing out on one of the main ingredients that makes a marriage solid.

If your upbringing was anything like mine, “the talk” involved a book with cartoon illustrations, words I couldn’t say without laughing and a very nervous parent who had never been more eager to get through a conversation.

Very little was said about it in our home and that made it all the more intriguing to me.

Yet somehow, when it came to this subject, I learned the formula;
Sex = Dirty, Unclean, Shame. It’s going to be incredibly uncomfortable and you should, “Save it for the one you love.” Huh?

I have talked to multiple women over the last few months. All of them have been married less than nine years. Eight out of ten of them are not having sex with their husband. And by not having sex, I mean one time or less per month.

There are lot’s of excuses, some are really good, valid reasons. When you have young children, especially a baby, the last thing that most women are thinking about is the thing that got them pregnant in the first place.

SO, have you gotten off track? Don’t know where to start?

Ladies…

Find a time in the day that works for you. It doesn’t have to be evening and it doesn’t have to be in your bed.
If you have a baby and it has been 6 months or more since giving birth, you should no longer be wearing maternity panties.
Have at least three pieces of lingerie that you actually put on for your man from time to time. Victoria figured out the secret and she has stores all over the place. I don’t care what your budget, your hubs will find the money. Go. Buy. Wear. Men are visual. Give your man something to think about the next day in his budget meeting. (Men are not looking at that one place on your thigh that is all you see when you look in the mirror. So, DON’T POINT IT OUT TO HIM!) One of the most unattractive things a woman can do is discuss her physical flaws with the man who thinks she’s a hottie. Work what you have! Everything looks better in lace.
Send him suggestive text messages every now and then. You may have spit-up on your shoulder and be in major need of a shower. That’s why you’re not going to FaceTime. You’re going to TEXT.
Praise him in front of others.
Be specific when you compliment his efforts and achievements. He wants to make you proud.

Guys…
You are not off the hook here.

Woo her.
Adore her.
Just because you said you loved her on your wedding day, doesn’t mean you never have to say it again.
Be affectionate with her without expecting to get it on. You might be surprised.
Leave a note on the steering wheel that you’re thinking about her.
Tell her she’s beautiful.
Look at her. Listen to her. Affirm her.
Be intentional about setting a date night. It doesn’t have to be flowers and candles, just some time set aside for building and growing your relationship.

When we marry, God gives us a license to explore, enjoy and play.

For some of us, we didn’t wait for the license. We didn’t do anything in the order that it was intended.

Right or wrong, here is my take on that…

I think the reason God doesn’t want us sleeping around and getting knocked up and/or contracting something that we can’t wash off, is because He knows how much it will hurt us. It’s a hurt not easily healed. He knows that we will carry the weight of shame and guilt with us, sometimes for a lifetime. He is protecting our heart.

The way He designed this whole crazy, beautiful, mysterious act is, well… kind of perfect. He knew what He was doing.

Please hear me when I say that, I wasn’t wearing white on my wedding day. I have felt damaged and broken for years and then something that can only be explained as a “spiritual awakening” happened.

This man, who I believe God chose and designed for me and me for him. He didn’t look at me with shame or disgust. He didn’t talk to me like a worthless whore. In fact, he treated me like his queen and now all that I know and have ever known… is him. When I close my eyes, he is the only one I see. He is the only one I want to see.

Ladies, some of you are shaking your head as tears run down your cheeks and saying, “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

You’re right. However, I know what I’ve done. I know what I’ve thought in my mind about doing, which Jesus said is one in the same. And I am here to testify that nothing, NO ONE, is beyond redemption.

Right now you’re saying in your mind, “BUT…”

There are no buts in forgiveness, Darling. Strike that from your vocabulary where needed.

Some of you reading this have given your body away in hopes of filling up the emptiness that you feel. Others make a living by taking your clothes off and spinning on a pole. Some of you are helping them make a living by going and watching them spin on a pole. Though I do not condone this (just as I do not condone past behaviors of my own), I have known some “professional dancers” who have a bigger heart and purer motives than many Christians. I am confident that there is no condemnation in Christ. Nothing will fill a void like His grace, mercy and love. Nothing.

Some of you had someone force themselves on you. Whether you were a child when it happened or an adult, it’s not your fault. Regardless, you feel stained. I am here to tell you that the blood of Christ is better than any bleach out there and He will make you new. Brand new. He is in the business of restoration. He makes beautiful things out of our pain. If we let Him…

I was talking with a friend not long ago who was an exotic dancer and professional escort for several years. She now has a hard time even thinking about being intimate with anyone, let alone her husband. Her exact comment was, “I’ve done everything and it was dirty and wrong. I have no desire to do those things with my husband. It just reminds me of who I was and what I used to be.”

“Let it go.” Sound too simple? Well that’s because it is simple. Not to be confused with easy.

This man, who is being punished for something in the past that he was not even a part of, loves you and wants you, just the way you are.

I encouraged her and will encourage you, that every time she closes her eyes and sees things that seem to be tattooed in her memory, to picture it going through a shredder. Find something to replace it. It doesn’t have to be sexual. You may have to repeat the shredding over and over and over again. Eventually your mind will be transformed.

When those visions and memories creep in and give you that sick feeling, know that it is not from God. It is not from the One who created you with great purpose. The One who designed you from scratch. The Master’s hands formed you from the beginning and they are on you still.

None of us are beyond the reach of our Savior.

Now, I know I am opening myself up to some major criticism, judgement and misinterpretation… I’m okay with that. I’m not an expert. I do think that we should feel the freedom to talk with our spouse about sex, intimacy and our body without acting like it’s a four letter word.

Can we do that? Can we stop projecting shame onto others? Can we who are married, make an effort to remind our spouse why they would never want to look anywhere else for sexual intimacy? Can we see ourselves, our bodies and our marriage through the eyes of the One who created it all in the first place?

Can those of you who are not with someone right now, look ahead with great anticipation, eager to experience sexual intimacy and all that comes with it, the way God intended it to be?

Try it… I dare ya!

What If…this could change your life?

Posted on February 22, 2012 by Joy

I hear this phrase, sometimes several times a day, usually followed by something catastrophic. I can’t help but wonder how these two little words got such a bad rap?

“What if” we shifted our thinking and instead of harping on the negative aspect of “What if?” We dwell in the positive? Instead of this phrase being said in the context of what we might lose, why not use it in the context of what we could gain?

What If…
I stopped focusing on changing the world and instead opened my eyes to the needs right in front of me?

What If…
I stopped complaining long enough to recognize all of the blessings around me. Especially the ones that don’t come neatly wrapped with a beautiful bow?

What If…
I started praying for the person who evokes anger at the mere mention of their name?

What If…
I started looking at the parts of my body I have always unjustly scrutinized and began appreciating their function everyday.

What If…
Instead of marinating in negative self talk (that no one hears but me), I meditated on 4 words, “I Am God’s Masterpiece.”

What If…
I started taking responsibility for how I deliver my words and letting go of how it is received?

What If…
I looked in the mirror every day, completely naked and said (out loud) “I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation!” Psalm 139

What If…
I stopped asking “why” (things are the way they are) and instead asked “how” (am I going to make a positive impact with what I’ve been given?)

What If…
I stopped calling my gossip circle a “prayer group”?

What If…
I asked God what He thinks of me and embraced it, instead of craving the approval of strangers?

What If…
Instead of cluttering our house with more “stuff” we sponsored a family less fortunate than we?

What If…
I didn’t worry?

What If…
I trusted God as much as I say I do?

What If…
I stopped criticizing the people and things that I don’t understand?

What If…
I was fully present in the moment?

What If…
I believed that all scripture was pertinent to my life and stopped focusing only on the verses that made me feel good and promised a happy ending?

What If…
I thought the best before believing the worst?

What If…
I embraced God’s plan for my life instead of blazing my own trail?

What If…
I looked forward to heaven instead of investing so much time and energy into the temporary pleasures of this world?

Are you feelin’ me on this? ‘Cause I could go on and on.

It’s all about transforming the mind. Before we take one step, it starts between our ears. Yes?

Are you a “What If-er”? What’s your biggest “What if” that’s holding you back?

Egomaniac with an Inferiority Complex

Posted on February 9, 2012 by Joy

Ever feel like you’re walking around inside out? Like people can see, not who, but what you are?

Or that you have a neon word glowing above your head?

I do.

For me, it could be any number of things over the years… alcoholic, people pleaser, bulimic, liar, gossiper, faker, cheater, doubter, wounded, hypocrite, quitter…the list is lengthy and it only gets worse.

What’s your word?

Did you immediately think of something negative?

Why do I turn into a “Nancy negative” (no offense Nancy) when it comes to self-awareness checks?

Is it because I’m humble? Hardly!

It’s because my ego gets the better of me and I begin comparing my insides to your outsides. I become fixated on the past, instead of focused on the future, while living in the present.

Humor me for a minute and let’s go another route.

What if, when I went out into the world, I walked around with a different list of words adorning my head? Words like…Believer, Redeemed, Recovered, Loved, Forgiven, Cherished, Treasured, Saved, Blessed, Beautiful, Capable, Wanted, Free, Worthy, Accepted…as I wrote these words, I read them out loud. It is amazing the tone, the energy, the transformation of thought from one paragraph to another simply by changing a few words.

Ladies, we are the worst about this. Be careful what you are speaking into the hearts and minds of your daughters, friends and more importantly, yourself.

May I encourage you to try a little experiment with me? Come on! It will be so fun!

Take a dry erase marker (or lippy, whatever works), stand in front of the mirror where you get ready every morning, and in the space (on the mirror) above your head, choose one word of affirmation.

Write the word on your mirror so that when you look at your reflection you will see truth.

I call it, “Affirmation in Action.”

My word right now is “Redeemed.”

I begin my day with that word in my heart and on my mind. I don’t give the lies a chance to one up me.

There is power in our words. Even those never spoken, but that we allow to take up residence between our ears.

If you’re walking around all day with a head full of negative self-talk, stop it.
No really…STOP! You are going against your purpose, everything that you were designed to be. You are deeming yourself spiritually useless.

Harsh? Yes.

I speak from a position of repeat offender when it comes to bashing myself. What I am encouraging you to do, I am doing myself. Work in progress, remember. I don’t have all the answers, I am just very persistent.

It begins from within.

What’s inside you can either tear down and infect those around you with the poison of darkness. Or it can shine, igniting the light in others that is within us all. For some of us only a spark remains, while for others a fire rages.

Here is my promise to you…for the next 7 days, I am going to pray for you. I would LOVE it if you would tell me your word in the comment section below. However, even if you don’t, God knows your word and more importantly, He knows your name.

The future is very bright!

Now…

What’s your word?

Let go…or be dragged

Posted on February 4, 2012 by Joy

While you’re reading this sentence, I want you to ball your hands into the tightest fist you can make. Come on, squeeze until your nails dig into your skin and your knuckles turn white.

Now…open your hands. Stretch them as wide as they will go. Ahhhhhh. Release.

Do you see the fingernail marks in your palms? Run your finger over the shallow indention that will soon fade.

Are there things in your life showing evidence of a struggle by the indention’s that your fingernails left behind?

For me to think that there was any other way to believe that I could hold on to what was mine without digging my fingernails in, was going to take a complete transformation of the mind.

This is exactly what is happening. It has been a slow, but steady process.

Have you ever seen a child hold a piece of candy that they were afraid was going to be taken from them? Especially chocolate. The tighter they squeeze, the more misshapen it becomes. At times even melting under the force and heat of their little hand.

What’s left?

A mess.

When I have tried to pry open the little fingers of my child when they are locked onto something they want, not only does the mess get all over their hand, but it gets on mine as well. The worst place being under the nails where it is so difficult to remove.

Why am I telling you this?

Well, I hope you can relate.

I have had to physically open my palms to the Father many times this week while in conversation with certain people who are making decisions in my daughter’s life.

I have prayed, “Lord, if necessary, bring out your spiritual crowbar and release my grip on this situation. Father the harder I hold on, the worse the outcome. The more I squeeze, the greater intensity of pain. Help me, please. I don’t know how to hold my child with an outstretched arm and open palm.”

God has been so patient with me.

I should know by now that He doesn’t use a crowbar. He doesn’t use force. For if He did, I would be resentful. These are the times when He is very still and beckons my heart to meet Him in the quiet places (which are few and far between in my house).

He whispers to my heart, “Don’t you know she was Mine to begin with? Don’t you know that she is Mine still?”

“Yes, Father. But…What if…”

“What if, you trusted Me the way you tell others to trust Me? What if, you truly believed that I want the very best for your life and your child’s life. And though that doesn’t always mean comfort and happiness, you can rest in the assurance that you are greatly loved and adored by your Father in Heaven. What if, when you were afraid, you sought Me instead of relief through external methods? What if, every time you think of one of your children, you give them back to Me, once more, leaving the pen in My hand to write the chapters of their story? What if, you commit My words to memory so that when doubt floods in, it is absorbed by My truth and replaced with My peace that passes all understanding?”

This is how the Father speaks to my heart. This is the way he gently opens my fists tightly clenched in fear until my palms face the Heavens with fingers stretched as wide as they will go.

Then and only then, can He pour out His goodness, mercy and love. And there is enough that when it spills through my fingers, those around me benefit.

Bella, my Bella, belongs to God. Chris and I have worked tirelessly to lay the foundation and instill truth in her heart and mind. Our responsibility now, is to reiterate what she already knows. It is to combat lies with truth. It is to encourage, nurture and provide a safe place for daunting questions.

When I close my eyes and pray for my girl, I see the 5 year old explorer/princess/rock star. I see overalls and pig tails…I see somersaults on the grass and make believe castles in the trees.

I see more potential, beauty and promise than she will ever see. Isn’t that what we do as mothers though? We dream BIG for our girls and attempt to stifle the urge to project ourselves onto them while intercepting those who would cause them to believe that they are anything less than a child of The King.

Here’s the deal, I have to let go.

I must open my fingers and release the fist. I do not want my beautiful girl to have nail marks of any kind on her spirit, especially mine.

So when fear consumes my mind with thoughts of losing the control that I never had to begin with, my heart will respond with Ephesians 3:20-21“God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.“

What is beneath your fingers tightly clenched into a fist? What or who are you holding on to so tightly that they can barely breathe? Let go. The longer you struggle, the messier it gets.

Let go. Or be dragged.

The Maze of Ministry – Part 2

Posted on January 26, 2012 by Joy

In Part 1 of this post, I left you with a flashback from my childhood. (Sounds like a sentence from a shrinks couch, doesn’t it?)

These sentences are where we left off and where we will pick back up…
“And then it broke. Never to be put back the same way again. After all, with so much at stake, how could it be?”

When my parents decided to divorce, we, as a family, were suddenly and forcefully broken.
This is not a sob story about what happens to a girl from a “broken home.” So just hang with me here.

I was left questioning everything that had happened in my life.

I wanted to run.

So I did.

Without spending hours and thousands of words giving you details of the path I chose, I will sum it up this way;

~ I moved to another city and signed a modeling contract with an agency who immediately began bookings and photo shoots.

~ I discovered a drug that muted my mind and helped me stay thin.

~ I made a lot of money in a short period of time.

~ I was in breech of my contract for missing too many “Go Sees” and not returning my manager’s calls. They were able to use all of the pictures taken just days before without paying me a dime.

~ I began to spiral downward and burn through some serious cash.

~ I thought I was lost, but God still knew exactly where I was.

One night I woke up in an ER hospital bed, my wrists strapped to the rails while the nurses attempted to find a vain to start an IV for severe dehydration.

“Why am I strapped to the bed?!” I asked one of the nurses.

“You won’t keep your arms still enough for us to start a line, we may have to go in through your neck.” She responded.

“Wait. What?! No. How did I get here?! Why am I here?!” I said, confused and angry.

The doctor then walked into the room and said, “Why don’t you tell us? What have you ingested tonight?”

My designer dress had been cut right down the middle with surgical scissors. Apparently doctors don’t worry about preserving your clothes when they are trying to save your life.

It didn’t take long for my blood work to come back and show a list of things in my system that didn’t belong there.

When the doctor came in and read off the list, his next response was, “Damn druggies. As soon as that IV bag finishes, you’re gettin’ the hell outta here to make room for someone who really needs this bed.” I had od’d and come very close to loosing my life.

It’s interesting how differently you are treated when the medical professionals helping you, discover that the damage is self inflicted.

There are many examples of this type of chaos happening within a span of several years.

I chose to elaborate on this one story because this is a clear example where God rescued me from myself, in a way that I would not recognize until much later.

No one was in the waiting room to take me home. I didn’t even know how I got there. The person in registration said that several people had brought me in and said that they didn’t know what was wrong with me, but to save my life. They paid cash and left.

I knew then who it was.

I was shocked that these individuals would risk being caught to save my life. I was surprised they didn’t just let me die as I had heard stories of them doing with others who didn’t know when to stop.

(For those left wondering…the answer is yes, I had to take a taxi home in an ER gown and heals. Although I’m pretty sure I went barefoot, which totally grosses me out to think about!)

Do I blame my parents for this behavior? No.

It may have manifested itself in a different way were they still together, but I now know, with all certainty that I would not be who I am today without the hell I willing walked through years ago. I was fortunate, God always had His hand on me, protecting me, only allowing me to go so far.

The journey came to a crossroads when I sat down at a bar table with an undercover officer. I started talking to him and he asked what I was doing there. “What do you mean?” was my response.

“You don’t belong here. Get out while you still can.” He said, with a serious certainty on his face that I had never seen from anyone.

He drove me home that night. On the drive, I vividly remember staring at the yellow line in the center of the road. I thought about what my mom had told me when I needed to focus on something other than feeling carsick, “Focus on the yellow line and you’ll be fine.” She would say.

I had been traveling a road with no yellow line and it was time to refocus.

I called my dad the next day for the first time in months, told him I was alive, but scared and didn’t know what to do. He advised me to put everything I owned in garbage bags and come home that day.

I had a friend who helped me pack a u-haul and just as darkness fell, we began the six hour drive to my dad’s house.

I had not slept in more than 72 hours, so when I arrived, battered and bruised, I slept for a couple of days.

Three days after I had left, the house that I would frequent was raided and everyone inside was arrested (or so I was told). The amount of items confiscated had the potential for a hefty prison sentence.

You would think that would be the end of it. It wasn’t. There was much more to come, but that’s a story for a different day.

I was having coffee with a friend yesterday and we were talking about a different part of my story. She said, “That must have been when you hit your bottom?”

“No.” I said. “I had lots of bottoms.” I declared my bottom when I threw the shovel down and began climbing out of my self made burial ground.

I knew many who were not so fortunate.

I attended more funerals before age 20 than most people, other than a pastor will attend in their lifetime. Why I was not one of them, only God can tell. He has the final say and fortunately, He now holds the pen.

I like to read and listen to the writings of Jud Wilhite. He has said, “None of us were made to be made much of. We were made to make much of God.”

God was not surprised by anything that I did. He knew that more than a decade later I would have the irrefutable desire to work with women and girls, equipping them to make decisions that would lead them down a path much different from my own.

He knew that instead of gaping wounds, I would one day have beautiful scars that told my story and that there would be no shame.

In attempts to make much of myself, I failed miserably. I can see with clear eyes that it’s all about pointing to the Father and making much about Him.

Check out these incredible resources written by Jud Wilhite.

Also, explore the community he has created called People of the Second Chance Here you will find many stories that you can relate to and who knows, you may even decide that you want to tell your own story of second chances. You can follow on Twitter @POTSC

The Maze of Ministry

Posted on January 26, 2012 by Joy

Growing up a PK (preacher’s kid) I had a front row seat to all kinds of things done in the name of “ministry.”

I saw religion, spirituality, atheism, agnosticism. I saw searching. I saw people who were “worshipers of satan” and those who claimed to be their own god. I was never allowed to be in the presence of anyone who was supposedly possessed by demons. Though my dad would get calls at all hours for these types of things.

He only talked about it once. Said that it was the most frightening thing he has ever witnessed and hoped that he would never have to witness it again. It was a girl. A teenager. She was speaking in different voices and climbing the walls. Weird, huh?!

This can be very confusing for anyone, but especially a child.
I found that the easiest and most convenient path to take was to adopt the God of my parents understanding.

The only problem was that they had very different views of who God was and how He sees us, His children.

Flashback Time

During the Summer, my dad would meticulously pack up the Buick and we would all pile in and head off to where he was speaking for the week.

This usually entailed at least a 5-10 hour drive.

I am the youngest of 3 girls. We would all three be in the back seat with our one thing that we were allowed to bring along to entertain ourselves.

Keep in mind that these were the days of 55 mph speed limits on the highway.

I have always been prone to motion sickness. My mother would say multiple times during a road trip, “Focus on the center yellow line and you’ll be fine.”

This would be right about the time that my mouth would begin to water and the imaginary knot grew bigger and more uncomfortable in my throat. You know the feeling…right before you lose it.

“Oh God, please don’t let me vomit in this car!”

I could only imagine how awful the next few hours would be with the smell on the upholstery.

I stared at that yellow center line for more miles that I could count.

Though it sounds rather horrific, I loved those Summer travels. Even though it meant we were not with our friends, I met knew friends and before you knew it, we were running up and down the seemingly endless isles of a gigantic auditorium.

It was always great to come home too.

I can close my eyes, even now, and remember walking into our house on a hot summer day in the south. The turn of the key in the lock and stepping over the thresh hold. The air had been off for days, making it just bearable to be inside while waiting for dad to turn on the AC.

Upon the first breath through my nose, I knew I was home. The smell was familiar and comfortable. The sun streamed through the sliding glass doors, across the carpet and onto the tall stools at the kitchen counter where we ate breakfast every morning.

I remember as if it was yesterday, seeing the dust stir in the sunlight. I turned the corner, walked down the hall to my room and felt at ease. Collapsing on my bed and looking up at the popcorn ceiling, life was good. I didn’t know any different.

And then it broke. Never to be put back the same way again.
After all, with so much at stake, how could it be?

(This is where I will place the bookmark…for now. Let’s pick up where we left off in the story, tomorrow.)

Why Didn’t Anyone Tell Me?!

Posted on December 29, 2011 by Joy

(Guys, ya may wanna skip this one)

I was talking to a friend recently who just had a baby. Several times throughout our conversation she exclaimed, “Why doesn’t anyone tell you these things?!”

I had to agree with her. We really do go into this whole parenting thing completely ignorant of what is actually happening to us. The transformation, so to speak, is subtle. One day you are in the bathroom and find it odd that no one has followed in behind you or that you don’t have a baby sitting on your lap.

For me, if someone had told me with all certainty, what the journey of being a mother would look like, I wouldn’t have believed I was capable of such and would have prevented pregnancy at all cost.

Just as He does in times of uncertainty, the good Lord gives us the strength we need, when we need it. He always arrives right on time. His time, that is. It does not always coincide with our time.

So for those of you who have yet to take the plunge into parenthood (and for those of us who have), I have compiled a list of “The things no one tells you, but you wish you knew, until you know, then you wish you didn’t know”

(drum roll please)

Pregnancy…

When you are pregnant, your body no longer belongs to you. You are now a human incubator. Instead of looking at your face, people will look directly at your belly while talking to you. (This doesn’t change after baby comes either. People now want to see baby more than they want to see you. It’s okay. Just eat your slice of humble pie and move on.)

There will be times when you feel like the Thanksgiving turkey (especially after your belly button pops out!) with family assessing and taking wagers even, on when the baby will be born. Or as one family member put it, “When the baby’s done.”

Your stomach will stretch beyond recognition and you will begin talking to it.

Strangers will touch your belly as if they’ve received an invitation.

Those support hose that you made fun of your mother for wearing, will become your best friend. Spanx now makes ‘em with room for your belly. (You can thank me later for that little gem of information.)

You will feel physically sick at the mention of something that you used to crave and instead dream of things like, cheddar cheese and peanut butter with a side of dill pickles accompanied by a glass of chocolate milk (my personal favorite).

Your body temp will seem to rise by about 120 degrees.

If you didn’t snore before, you will now.

You will become closely acquainted with the clothes that have the best elasticity and how many colors your favorite drawstring pants come in.

You are forced to be aware of everything that crosses your lips. Artificial sweetner? Not anymore. Deli meat? Not unless it’s heated. Sushi? Forget about it. (Oh and this gets even more strict if you decide to breastfeed).

At the first sign of a full bladder, find the closest restroom. You’re just going to have to trust me on this. A cough or sneeze could be hazardous.

Go see lot’s of movies. You will not have this opportunity often after the baby comes.

Oh, and that thing that happens to your chest…well, that’s a conversation to be had in person as there are just too many variables with that subject.

Parenthood…

For a mother, not all, but many, from the moment conception is confirmed, we fall in love. As our bellies protrude and we get kicked in the ribs, we begin to picture what the baby will look like and the kind of personality they will have. We start making big plans.

Nothing will prepare you for what happens next.

From this point on, we are forever changed. We can’t go back and make it the way it was before. Our new normal will be all of the stages of our child’s life.

Having a child is like watching your heart walk around outside of your body. You are no longer a single being. Depending on how many children you have, through adoption, birth, or loss through physical death, that is how many pieces of your heart are out there. And don’t worry, there is always plenty of a mother’s heart for all of her babies.

If someone tells you that having a baby will save your relationship, they are wrong. As wonderful as it is, it is equally as difficult and demanding in ways that you have no prior experience.

Just as your love expands and multiplies at a rate which you never thought possible, so you are stretched in ways that you never thought extendable.

The days are filled with beauty and firsts. Just as they are interrupted by pain and uncertainty.

I became more conscious of absolutely everything around me. It was as if with my children came the ability to see the things I couldn’t see before. Mortality became a reality. Things that seemed mundane were now cherished traditions. Families looked different, bad or good! Holidays took on new meaning (as did showers and brushing my teeth on a regular basis).

Nothing that I say here and nothing that the one closest to you can say, will prepare you for what it is like to have a child. It just can’t.

Here’s why…because everyone is different.

As I listened to my friend talk about all of the challenges of those first few weeks with a newborn, I thought to myself, “I’m past that. I’m a veteran. It does get easier and there are more hours of sleep in the future. I can speak into this out of experience and truth. I think I’m officially a grown-up!”

I smiled, put my hand on her hand and said, “I promise, it’s gets easier. Enjoy these moments. They are fleeting. When you come to the end of your precious one’s first year you will think to yourself, ‘It’s all a blur! Where did the time go?!’ And it does not slow down from there. So try, as difficult as it is when you’re going on a couple of hours sleep and multiple days without having showered, to enjoy these sacred moments. Children remember moments, not days or weeks or even years. Specific moments. And these moments are what make up our memories.”

Your turn! What surprised you most about becoming a parent or watching your friends take the plunge into parenthood. Come on…don’t be shy…we’re all friends here.