Beauty in the Ashes

Last night, Elsie and I met four of my girlfriends for dinner and shopping on Franklin. Somewhere between the server thinking we were at least a decade older than we actually are and our second basket of bread, the topic of the decade picture came up. My mind wandered back to where I was at this time in 2009, and I told them I really wouldn't want to post a picture. In 2009, I was heavy. Physically, mentally...heavy. One month to go but not sure I'd make it out with a degree, panic attacks and sleeping too much and losing my temper and sobbing and zero confidence after being torn down even more...heavy. I was engaged to the love of my life who I'd marry a few months later, but what I tend to remember are the shame and pain and guilt from that time and that situation. I remember the way the symptoms of ADHD and major depression and anxiety all came together in the worst way at a time I needed to be my best. I remember the pain of the criticism. The times spent huddled in t...

Free indeed. That was my Facebook status five years ago today. I am pretty open about many of my struggles, my acronyms; my writing here bears witness to that. I have written about the mortification that accompanies having ADHD, especially as an adult. I've written about the crippling rounds against chronic depression where rising from bed seemed a Herculean task I couldn't face. I've written about much, hoping perhaps to be better understood and to make others feel less alone in these alienating wars. I've spilled much ink on OCD as well. I call that the oldest voice in my head. It began as far back as I can remember. It remains with me still. Of all the enemies, it is perhaps the most complicated, the most misunderstood by others. Having battled it all my life, I find it is perhaps the most insidious, affecting me in far greater ways than I sometimes realize. On my best day, it is there. On my worst day, it nearly incapacitates me. I am out of the game. I am one of...

     I didn't think I'd write anything about this because I don't have the energy or knowledge to explain everything that's going on, and also because it's embarrassing. But I write about so much of my life, and I've been focused tonight on what's going right, so I decided to go ahead and let you see our mess, mess, mess, as Jack calls it!      This hasn't been the most stellar week. Our house is literally falling down around our ears, and a lot of that is because of an accident with a sink that was my fault. That sink is now in the garage with the rest of my kitchen. And every six hours, someone from a cleanup company comes in to tell me some new astronomically expensive thing that is wrong with the house (a lot of which has nothing to do with the original accident). 4" of standing water in the crawl space? Great. Everything associated with said space was installed incorrectly which could end up costing you $30,000 down the line? Perfect. Chum...

Three years ago today I found out I was a mama. I loved this boy fiercely when he was the size of a poppy seed. I love him fiercely now that he is over 26 wiggly pounds.  This holiday will always mean the world to me because it brings all those memories straight back like a punch. I feel it in my chest, the disbelief and the joy, like my heart would actually burst. The gratitude as I fell to my knees by the sink and cried and whispered fervent thank yous to the Lord before I woke my husband up to tell him he was going to be a father. The words I'd waited and waited and waited to speak. The entire day spent smiling so hard my cheeks were surely sore. Breakfast out, and in a sundress. One newborn outfit purchased from the Carter's store, where I cried immediately upon entering. Not buying clothes because we needed money, and my body was about to be a lot different, and what kind of seafood exactly could I not eat at lunch? And guess what? I can't take - any- of the medicin...

     Today my dad helped Jack climb a tree for the first time in our backyard.      When Matt decided he was set on this house being OUR house, I remember looking out at this yard and loving these weeping willows. Maybe it was my inner 90's girl calling to me with a scene from Pocahontas. I don't know. It took me a little longer, but I fell for the house, too. One day on my lunch break, I drove here, slipped through the unlocked gate, and knelt under this very tree to pray. I prayed that if this was the home we were meant to have, that our offer would be enough (it was, even after we decided to hold steady when someone came in with a counter offer), and that God would give us this home and children to fill it with. I pictured a couple of kids running around that yard, though at the time, we were still trying and failing to conceive, for no physical reason, which was breaking my heart. I also prayed His will above ours, knowing we would trust no matter...

Okay, Timehop. Enough with the reminders from nine years ago.  I said dumb things before I was a parent. Everybody hear that? I want to publicly stand (sit, actually) before you all and say (well, write) OOPS SORRY. Some thoughts: 1. Almost nothing about parenting is as black and white as I thought it was. 2. I didn't truly know tired. Going significant amounts of time without sleep is tantamount to completely losing your sanity. You will do virtually anything to get it back. See Point 3. 3. Some of the things I said I'd never do are the very things I turned around and did to survive. I flipped quicker than a politician after an election. 4. A Bachelor's degree in Early Childhood Ed. will prepare you to teach well and school you in child development, but you'll still feel like you know nothing about your own baby sometimes. 5. I was probably least receptive to the advice that ended up being the most helpful in the trenches. "Stop researching." "Prepa...

     It's been a banner week for me as a mom. I've probably made 15,485 mistakes, conservatively.  I was doing pretty well today until the sun went down (you know, around noon, because I live in Evansville). I had a headache from the seventh circle of Hell, and I was driving up Green River Road with a screaming banshee in the back seat. Because I have a Bachelor's degree in Early Childhood Education, I employed the tried-and-true technique of yelling, "STOP SCREAMING!" at my sweet baby. Powerful stuff. Very effective. I was fairly flustered by the time I got to Schnucks. I wanted to get a couple things for dinner tomorrow but mostly needed ice for my raging Coke Zero habit.  Matt is out of town till tomorrow evening, so I knew he couldn't bail me out. After embarrassing myself a little in the parking lot - how was I to know  all three  cars around me were occupied? -  I carried Jack in with no car seat and no cart cover. I grabbed a cart wipe, bu...

To the woman walking through infertility:      I see you. You are not forgotten on this day. I know what today can bring. I know what it feels like to look at the flowers for the mothers at church and do your best to hide the tears in your eyes, knowing there isn't one for you. I know your heart aches. I know your pride hurts. I know that what you go through every 28 days is a real and powerful grief. I know you mourn what could have been. I know you should probably buy stock in pregnancy tests. I know you're angry. I know you might secretly want to punch women in the baby section at Target. I know EVERYBODY is pregnant in your city, and the women who aren't pregnant already have perfect, bouncing babies. They probably have five. Probably quintuplets. I know you've been asked if you and your husband want kids. I know someone you've revealed your struggle to has told you how to fix the problem by relaxing and taking your temperature and trying harder and not trying...

     Over the past couple weeks, I've been asking myself what Christmas really means to me.  It's my favorite holiday for lots of good reasons, but what does that babe wrapped in swaddling clothes in a smelly manger really mean?      Through the Word, new challenges, wise counsel, and the mighty prayers of righteous people, the Lord has given me freedom I had never known in my entire life.  It started with one weekend at a campground in the fall of last year.  That weekend ended up being the most spiritually demanding event of my life.  God took the sum of all my hurts, fears, failures, and grief, and He gave it purpose.  he also happened to turn my world upside down in the best way.  My mind was beginning to learn how it felt to really know peace.  I wish I could describe what it's like, after almost three decades, to have a still mind for the first time.  To pray and worship and hear birds sing without racing, nev...

Upon re-entering physical therapy, I am always asked to fill out a form.  One of the questions I answered last week: In the last year, have you lost a loved one, had a major job change, or become pregnant? Why yes!  It's like they know me.  Honestly, with as much time as I've spent in physical therapy, they should know me.  I digress. That standard question on the standard form has me thinking tonight as those events seem inextricably bound together in my mind.  Matt and I have had four major losses in three years.  We carry that grief right alongside the joy of this new life. Tonight, as I find myself face to face once again with my shortcomings, clinging desperately to Romans 8:1, there are other voices I'm trying to hear.  What would my Grammy say?  Would she be telling me not to give this another thought?  To focus on this sweet baby?  Would Papaw be here saying not to worry because he'd worry enough for the both of us?  Jus...

There is a reason I love this picture.  It was taken in  New Smyrna Beach, Florida in 1991. I was all of four years old. My father was teaching me a lesson tht has echoed throughout the rest of my life. I remember vividly the way he coaxed me out into the Atlantic, not content to let my worries keep me by the shore. There were forward steps I took myself; there were steps I was carried. Every time a wave came, my daddy would grab me by the hands and lift me straight up and over it, with my legs kicking the entire time, terrified he wouldn't lift me quite high enough to clear the water. Already plagued by a mind perpetually asking, What if? Every wave, every time...me flailing, my daddy saying, Lauren, I won't let you go under.   When I got too scared, he would have to pick me up and just hold me while the waves broke at his knees.  I don't think the story of Jesus calling Peter to walk on water was yet etched into my mind, but this memory will stay foreve...

I am overwhelmed, grieving, anxious, forgetful, exhausted, and feeling like I'm coming down with something.  I am facing a loss I can't begin to understand.  I'm walking through it, but I'm not getting anywhere.  It is on my mind every minute of every day, yet it still doesn't seem to ring true.  It can't really be true.  She can't really be gone, not like that.  Not in this tragic, ugly way with no warning.  Not when she was vivacious and healthy.  Not when she was the glue that held our family together.  Not before I had a child for her to hold.  Not before she knitted the most exquisite baby blanket ever made.  Not before our next Broadway date. Not before our next double date.  Not before the next hand of cards.  Black words on a white screen usually have a very powerful effect on me.  Writing something down makes it real to me.  But I have lost one of my best friends, and it still doesn't always feel real. ...

     You told me time really would heal.  Less than six months before you were gone.  The words were for Matt, but I hear them in my mind all the time.  You knew grief...the ins and outs of it...how to minister to people in the midst of it.  It's been a year and a half since I kissed you goodbye for the last time this side of Heaven.  Sometimes the grief is just the dull ache Matt taught me about that night on the balcony.  Sometimes it's easy to tell stories about you and share memories and laugh.  And sometimes, the smell of McDonald's coffee makes me weep because I miss you so much.  I can close my eyes, and see you in the driver's seat, picking up coffee for you and cinnamon rolls for me.  Sometimes my pots and pans bring me to tears, because they are the pots and pans you decided I needed to have.  When I remember not to turn the heat too high because they are so classy they work well at lower temperatures, I think ab...

"I could have done so many things, baby, if I could only stop my mind..." -"Wasted Time", Eagles Sometimes I wonder what I would be capable of if I could shut my mind off for even an hour.  Who would I be if I weren't listening to the litany of shortcomings, the barrage of my failings?  Who would I be apart from the incessant voice in my head questioning everything I do, critiquing every decision, berating me for every mistake, asking what if what if what if?   Tonight our kids learned about Moses.  If you caught the first episode of The Bible on History, please join me in adopting your best Ramses yell, "Moooooses!"   I have serious concerns about why the Pharaoh sounded like a bullfrog, why Moses looked so crazed, if angels really have ninja moves,and a lot of other creative concerns, but that's another story... Our kids learned about the scene with the burning bush, or, per our curriculum, an oscillating fan with red and orange crepe p...

Am I the only one who found making friends as an adult complicated in ways I never saw coming?   Am I the only one who searched through college and beyond to find her niche?  A single place where she belonged?  Only to fail again and again? My story (and Matt's too, for that matter), might not be terribly common.  We belonged to a crew in high school that was diverse and tightly-knit and irreplaceable.  These people became my support group and my best friends and my whole life.  Then college hit, and we scattered across the state and the country and the universe (not really the universe)!  Still, moving into Newman Hall in the fall of 2005, I had high hopes of a new chapter on my own.  Surely in a crowd of nearly 11,000 people I could find my place.  No I couldn't, and don't call me Shirley!  Everything I tried either fizzled or exploded.  At best, I didn't fit in.  At worst, I was being yelled at for missing a bible st...

     I begin with four words: We. Got. The. House. Not just a  house, but the house .   This is a tale about dreaming and faith and trust and a love lavished on us by our Father, from whom every good and perfect gift comes.        Matt and I are a bread and butter couple...fundamentally different but complementary when joined together.  We work well because we have different personalities but share common interests and find the same things amusing.  (The couple that laughs together, stays together!)    I might argue there are two types of house-hunters out there--"Move-in Ready Me" and "I Love a Project Matt."  On our last day of happy hunting, I found a house in Newburgh that had everything on our checklist and was, you guessed it, move-in ready.  I was ready to make an offer.  By the time we got to the driveway, Matt couldn't even remember what the kitchen looked like.  My gentle, quiet spirit and ...

  We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Hebrews 6:19 I am putting my fingers on the keys and forcing myself to type.  I have waited to write these words, hoping that a little distance will make them easier to look at in black and white, but that does not seem to be the case.  So I will weep and write and get these thoughts from my head to the screen...because I never want to forget. We had already sent Dad on the first flight home two days before, on the 4th of July.  I had taken to putting on snorkel gear and talking to Papaw underwater, believing if ever two people had a fighting chance at telepathy, it was the pair of us.  On the 5th, I forced myself to tell him it was okay to let go.  I thought maybe he needed to feel somehow that it was all right with me.  Did you know you can cry underwater?  It is possible.  Mom and I did a lot of crying in the Gulf of Mexico.  I also remember sitting on the balcony...