Good Lives Still Have Problems

I have a good life.

I am well aware that my problems are largely first-world problems. In the grand scheme of things, my life is easy, and I don't know pain like so much of the world is currently experiencing.

But still.

I find myself feeling on the edge of despair over certain circumstances from time to time. I hesitate to tell you all this because in light of everything that has been going on, my issues would seem petty. However, I listened to a sermon recently that hit home for me, and one of the points made was that we shouldn't belittle the pain.

We were asked to repeat a verse that "just so happened" to pop up in my devotions the very next day. That God. He's so sneaky like that.

The verse he asked us to repeat was, "Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning." I'm sure it has a larger than literal meaning, but I find that it literally tends to fit my life too. Those times when I feel the most burdened, the most wearied and hopeless, usually occur at night. Maybe it's just exhaustion at the end of the day, or maybe God shows mercy and refreshes me because I do feel better in the morning for the most part.

My problems, even though they may seem petty to some, can cause me pain. Within the same week that I heard this sermon, I read Psalm 31:7-8 during one of my devotions.

I will be glad and rejoice in your love,
for you saw my affliction 
and knew the anguish of my soul.
You have not handed me over to the enemy
but have set my feet in a spacious place.

He knows the anguish of my soul. Jesus was fully God and fully man, so he knows and understands human emotion and experiences.

I also came across the phrase "the valley is the place of vision," by Arthur Bennett in that devotion. This concept has stuck with me ever since. Sometimes the only way to learn what I need to know, or to see God work, is to be in the valley and let Him lead me out of it.

I don't know why I'm still so amazed when God teaches me one lesson from more than one resource at a time.

Also, it would be silly of me to think that any of my problems are as bad as they feel. I do tend to be a bit sensitive and need to remember that my emotions are the variable, not God. He is unchanging and should be my focus.

Anyway, it is not my intention to whine, but merely to share what I've been learning lately because I can't be the only one with all the feels.

In other news, we are tired of teething and allergies at our place. So. much. snot.

Thoughts of All Sorts

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever have full control of my brain function again. Between being pregnant and having an incredibly busy toddler, my thoughts are all over the place, and I struggle to form complete thoughts. So here- be the pinball in my brain for a few minutes. (Also, please don't begrudge me some random phone pictures of my girl while we're at it.)

Evelyn has this toy that fills up with gears, and when you push the button it plays music while the center gear spins, turning all the rest. That is all well and good, but putting it away drives me crazy. The gears are yellow, orange, red, green, and blue. Some sick part of me cannot put it away so that any like colors are touching/close to each other. I also can't put the red and green next to each other because that looks too Christmasy. Every night when I put it away I think, "this is just stupid. I can't believe I'm wasting time trying to get these spaced out just right." But I can't help myself. IT'S A SICKNESS, I TELL YOU.

In the last week or two Evie has started doing some fun things. She now makes a [very] surprised face, puts her hands up in a "where did he/she/it go?/I don't know" motion, sniffs like a bunny, growls like a bear, pants like a puppy, and makes a monkey sound. We're quite entertained by it all.

  

I think I'm nesting. Or maybe it's because Jered talked about buying a house and got my hopes up, and now it seems we will be here at least one more year. All I know is that I basically want to redo everything in the apartment. I want to paint furniture, hang different artwork, update throw pillows, and de-clutter the heck out of this place.

Similar to my problem with the gear toy, I take longer than needed to eat my Frosted Mini Wheats. I have to flip them all frosted side up so that I can eat the plain ones first and save the best for last. I can't be the only one, right? Speaking of Frosted Mini Wheats, Jered was pouring us each a bowl the other night and kind of chuckled when he handed me mine. HE HAD TRADED ALL OF HIS PLAIN ONES WITH FROSTED ONES FROM MY BOWL. What kind of marriage is this?

 

Yesterday some adorable cloth doll patterns came in the mail. The goal is to make at least a few for Evelyn in time for Christmas. Hopefully five months is enough time.

I would say that thus far, birthing and raising Evelyn is at the top of my accomplishment list. (You may remember that I also went through the Target clothing section and came out with only the jeans for which I went- and I have since gone in with my sister while she shopped for clothes, and I didn't get ANYTHING. So those are pretty high up there as well.) However, I recently outdid myself. I got Jered hooked on Grey's Anatomy. As in- he has started watching it without me. As in- he didn't study enough for one of his finals because he couldn't stop watching. Also- he's a keeper because he has the same favorite characters as me (Mark and Lexie), and he has seen me ugly cry so many times in the last couple weeks and admits when an episode is a tearjerker. (Oh- he doesn't cry, FYI.)

 

I love summer. And I love fruit. One of my favorite things about summer is the abundance of amazing fruit. I'm not even that picky about it- I don't mind eating a tart strawberry or a slightly crunchy peach. But a perfect summer peach? The kind that is just right, juicy, and exploding with flavor? If I was a poet, I would write a love sonnet, no- multiple love sonnets about that peach.

 

I turned twenty-nine last week, and my parents got me The Longevity Book by Cameron Diaz (per my request.) It's all about the science of what happens to you when you age (specifically as a woman) and from what I can tell is about how to appreciate your body and embrace aging rather than fearing it as society teaches us we should. I flipped through it real quick and it's muuuch more science than I anticipated and has hardly any photos, so I think it will be quite the learning experience and I will be armed with a highlighter at all times.  Time to get back in school mode.

 

Here's a slightly more connected thought:

My parents took Evelyn and me to Branson a few weeks ago. It was a ridiculously sweltering week, so we mainly relaxed at the condo, at the pool, and ventured downtown a few times. After a week of having two extra sets of hands that were happy to take over meals, diapers, and bedtimes and being spoiled to death by my parents I felt refreshed and ready to jump back into the daily routines of being a stay at home mom and wife.

Then I came home to an apartment that I had not left clean and tidy before vacation. Instantly overwhelmed. Within the first half hour of being home I was scrubbing down the bathroom because our water leaves a gross ring around the toilet if it isn't used for a few days. I grumbled to myself on my hands and knees as I wiped down the floor. And then I caught myself. It was 11:30 on a Monday morning. Jered and I left a hotel that morning to make it back for my 10:30 meeting, and now I was at home with my husband and baby. I mean, I was still scrubbing a bathroom floor, but we could have had to push our way through the drive to make it back the night before, and I could have had to be sitting at a desk away from my family at 8:30 that morning. Reality and attitude check- check.

And now it's off to a hefty pile of dishes I left for myself.

Ta-ta.