The Burden of Light

On New Year's Eve I couldn't help but feel… tired. It was a combination of a rough night with Ben and the weight of the past year bearing down on me. We had survived a pregnancy, wedding, injury, bed rest, birth, job change and moving across the state all within the course of 2013 and it felt like it had taken its toll that night. 

The whole year I was afraid to look back on everything that had happened and fully comprehend all that I had to accomplish. I was worried if I thought too much about it I would not have the heart to get up in the morning and face another day. 

So when reflection, unanticipated and unlooked for, hit me that night, I felt exhausted. I felt like I had no strength left to take me through the next year. My husband had to drag me to bed and I tried my hardest to shut my mind off.

And then… the morning came. And Ben slept beautifully that night and I was the most rested I've been since long before I got pregnant. We all cuddled in bed, made a big breakfast and set out to hike and experience nature.

And we went to the highest bridge in California.

And then on a beautiful walk through the foothills.

And found a quiet place by the American River to show Ben when he woke up.

And skipped rocks like we were 10 years old again.

And by then the weight was lifted and I felt like the old me again. Unanticipated and unlooked for, the strength to face a new year came. 

Just as it did everyday last year. Endless baby wails gave way to a small bright smile. Fights gave way to kisses. And unbearable weariness gave way to grace. 

It may be a burden, but it is light.

Comfort and Joy

Merriest of Christmases to all my readers. Please know today that you are loved and cherished beyond your wildest imagination. Use today to remember that no matter where you are or what you have done, God chose to be born to a teenager amongst squalor in order to redeem and restore that which was lost.

No matter how lonely, downhearted, or guilty you may feel, you are adored.

He has come to His people and redeemed them.

Luke 1:68

Savoring this moment

Between moving, welcomed houseguests, bright and happy holidays, newborns, and plans for traveling back home, life has been spinning and we feel like we are running to stand still. It has been a happy busy, but exhausting all the same.

I think I am starting to learn the lesson of motherhood, though. I am beginning to see that life has no intention of slowing down anytime soon. 

Ben is 8 weeks today and I have no idea where the time went. I am already putting away his newborn clothes and I feel like he barely got to wear them.

Everyday since he was born, I have been striving to live in the present. I have been conscious to not wish for the future and to savor each day for all that it is worth. 

It has meant dropping less important items on my to-do list and learning to lean into the stress of life and not wish to escape it. It has meant being one of those parents that takes and unashamedly posts endless pictures of my baby doing the mundane everyday baby things. 

Because soon it will not happen everyday. And I want to make sure that I enjoyed it while it was happening. Then when it is gone I can look back and smile. I will be able to tell Ben what life was like when he was born and his parents set out a whole new adventure.

Flame.

I have always been a desert girl, and I dearly love the fall. Both of those statements have caused a great clash within my heart over the past month. I have never felt so far from home and completely at ease in a place. 

I am amazed at every corner in my neighborhood. It feels like the whole city is ablaze and every tree is on fire. I cannot help but feel the same flame in my own heart.

Sorry for the silence this past month. Between creating a new home and soaking up every moment with my new son, there is little time for writing and reflection. I'm hoping for more time very soon.

Welcome to the World, Benjamin Elias!

I do not think, as long as I live, I could ever forget the deepest exhaustion give away to the deepest joy the instant I laid my eyes on my son for the very first time. In that instant, my heart felt ready to burst and has stayed that way since.

It has been almost two weeks and Brandon and I still cannot keep our eyes off of him. The only thing to pull us away from him is packing up our lives. Brandon was offered a job in Sacramento, so we are both moving away from the place we were both born and raised to somewhere I have only been once before in my life. 

It has been a time for adventure. And we are ready.

Past the Glittering Screen

One of the things that really worried me in the beginning of my pregnancy was the gender of our baby. I made sure that we booked an appointment with an ultrasound technician (can you BELIEVE that hospitals won't waste precious dollars on finding out whether anxious parents are having a girl or a boy? It's like they only care about the health of the baby!) and found out just past 15 weeks that we were having a boy. Immediately, I had a huge sigh of relief and felt like a burden had been lifted.

I told everyone that I wanted a boy so badly because I wanted to make sure my daughters had an older brother like I have, that it is a family tradition on my husband's side, blah, blah, blah. In reality, what I was truly worried about was me. I worried that having a girl would make me take a closer look at myself as a woman and have to change (or at least disguise) the insecurities that I have so that it is not passed along to them. I would have to stop complaining about how ugly I feel, how fat I think I am or pick apart every flaw I have, whether genuine or completely in my head. 

I did not want my daughters to look at themselves and other women with a critical eye that never penetrated past the surface to see their true substance. I want them to have intellect, a sense of humor, and a kind heart that will last far longer than their beauty ever could. I want something more for them, but I knew that it would cost me my shallowness and tendency to ignore the heart for the face.

However, finding out I am having a boy has caused me to take a closer look at the world he would grow up in (like most parents do). I started to wonder about what kind of a man I want him to become and how my role as his mom will shape how he views women. I realized that it is my responsibility to shape his view of women and their image.

Via heatherhartstudio

The role of women in the media is extremely disheartening. We are put on display as sexual objects that are only as good as we look. Even looking at journalists, which are suppose to be in a place of professionalism and intelligence. On most news stations, the women look little better than strippers (with short skirts, plenty of cleavage and pounds of makeup), while the men look old enough to be their fathers (and sometimes grandfathers). What is this telling the world? That a man can be taken seriously based on the news he is presenting and women are expected to be their pretty props. This is just one example, but throughout media women are only prized for their looks and not for their fearlessness, love, intelligence or personality.

If I want my son to have a different view of women I need to make sure I play an active role in changing it. The more I critically saw and understood the environment I will be birthing my son into, the more I realized that my responsibilities as shaping my son's understanding of women are just as great as having a daughter. If I am shallow and critical of my body as well as others he will learn to have that same critical eye towards the girls he sees. If I put a woman's worth solely on her looks he will do the same shameful thing.

I want my son to have the same love, care and respect for women regardless of their looks. I want him to see them not as objects for his own gratification, but as partners in the race of life. I want him to appreciate a woman's wit and intelligence instead of her cup size. I want him to be free from the suffocating restraints of society and see life as so much more than skin deep. I want him to see past the glittering screen that the world will try to place in front of him to the true depth and beauty of reality.

So over the course of my pregnancy, I have been making slow and conscious changes in how I treat others: no more snap judgments and a deeper appreciation for the soul of a person instead of their body. I have also been concentrating more on my criticism towards myself. To say the least, pregnancy has not been extremely kind to me and I have struggled with the extra weight and haggard expression I have been carrying around. I have started to try to ignore that and cultivate my soul instead. For the first time in years, I have picked up writing poetry again. I have been reading more and trying to use my mind again.

Because at the end of the day, I cannot show my son more what it means to be a woman and how to encourage and appreciate her than to embody that for him.

The Starting Line.

Via laurenledbetter

During high school, I ran cross country and track. By far the worst part of the entire race was waiting at the starting line. I hated it. I would be dripping with anticipation and shaking as I waited for the gun to go off. It was not uncommon for my teammates to ask if I was OK, or if I needed to go throw up and I would have to assure them, with a face stark-white, that I was perfectly fine. It was a complete relief to be starting the race and getting down to the business of running.

It is the same stomach-churning, shakey-limb feeling Brandon and I have been experiencing for the past few weeks. Between coming to the end of my pregnancy and the prospect of a new job in a new city for Brandon, we have been sitting in anticipation for our new lives to start. 

There have been moments where neither of us need to say what we are thinking, when is the gun finally going to fire? There are no words, we just silently watch my belly, squirming with life beneath it, and the phone, occasionally ringing with concerned family members wondering if we have heard anything. And just when we think cannot take the uncertainty and unknown anymore, we are asked to wait a little while longer. 

Despite the anticipation, the fear, the unknown, I cannot help but think that maybe this waiting is for the best. The worst I felt at the starting line, the bigger the relief when I finally could stretch out my legs and run. When the time comes, the direction laid out and the race has started we will finally be able to stretch ourselves and feel the relief of running towards our life together. Soon, I will be able to run the race as a mother and together we can build our lives either in Riverside or Sacramento. 

It seems like an eternity before the gun is shot, but looking back it was only a precious few seconds. Right now this weekend may feel like an age-long minute, but I am trying to take this time to take a breath, get into position and get ready to run.