October 11, 2015 by Bethe

God is telling me to go small

Last week I was in Atlanta live tweeting and Instagramming the Catalyst Leadership Conference for work. I got to hear from the gals at If: Gathering, Louie and Shelley Giglio, Andy Stanley, Brene Brown, the guy who founded Warby Parker, the guy who founded Charity Water, one of the leading photographers of our era, and David Crowder played a few songs. And somehow I got paid to do it. Not a bad way to spend a week.

Listening to leaders speak for three days straight is enough to make my type-A head explode. Do more of this… you could be GREAT if only you would sacrifice more… think bigger… be more… do less… let God…

How do all of these things apply to little old me? Doing MORE is never much of a struggle for me. I can do, do, do around the clock until I wind myself up into a ball of stress, unable to sit because there is one more thing to do. One more thing to create. One more task at hand. One more item to check off my list. One more obligation. One more good thing. One more… one more… one more…

So what is the next great thing God has for me? Does He want me to do something GREAT by the world’s standards? Does he want me to be famous, standing on a stage someday using my gifts for His glory? The crazy thing is, right now I feel like He is telling me that it’s not about being great – it’s about being a great servant. That He doesn’t care one bit if I’m famous – that it’s okay to be behind the scenes. That He can use my gifts at my job and in the one-on-one interactions I have on a daily basis.

I feel like lately God has been teaching me that when I do less – when I create more margin in my life – then I am available to love others better. When I have a stack of frozen casseroles in my freezer, I am better able to help someone out in a pinch who needs to experience God’s love. When I have free time built into my schedule, I can drop everything and help out in a crisis. When I have a free night in my calendar, I can host people in our home for dinner and show them love – just regular, old-fashioned LOVE with no agenda and no strings attached.

God is teaching me hospitality. And rest. The two go hand-in-hand for me, because when I’m rested, when I have MARGIN, when I have a free moment, I’m better able to give love – and my time – to others.

So while my head is spinning as I think through all the ways I could use my gifts for BIG THINGS for the Kingdom, between you and me, right now God is telling me to go small. Really small. And loose, and free, and quiet. To go behind the scenes and just love and make people feel safe and encouraged and welcomed.

September 30, 2015 by Bethe

Confession: I’m a grown-up who loves to color

I joined the adult coloring book craze about a month ago, and I must say, it’s so much fun. I read a few articles saying that coloring is a great way to relax and relieve stress, and since I’m usually a bit, ahem, high strung, I thought this might be something worth trying. It’s really hard for me to just sit on my couch and relax in the evening when there is ALWAYS another chore or project that needs to get done, and it’s impossible for me to watch television without doing something to keep my hands busy. But after a full day of working and mothering and adulting, putting my feet up and doing NOTHING (well, except coloring) is exactly what my overstimulated brain and body needs.

Besides, it makes me feel like a kid again.

A few friends have asked me what I’m going to do with the pictures I’ve colored, and I must admit I have no idea. Maybe hang one on the fridge? Or maybe just fill up the book and then buy a new one? The outcome isn’t really something I care about – it’s just about clearing my head and enjoying myself. It’s like eating chocolate, but with fewer calories.

If you’d like to join me, it’s so easy to get started: I bought this book and these markers (thanks Amazon). I store the markers in two mason jars on the shelves behind my couch for easy access, and there’s no set-up or clean up (as opposed to my yo-yo sewing which can get a little messy).

Happy coloring, my friends!

September 29, 2015 by Bethe

Bold Prayers

I’m reading Praying Circles Around Your Children, and already it’s changing me.

“Prayer is the way we take our hands off and place our children in the hands of God.” (Batterson)

This book is inspiring me, y’all. Tonight I snuck into Wrenn’s room after she went to bed, knelt down by her crib, and prayed big prayers over my child while she slept. It’s the greatest gift I can give her, the greatest defense against all of the challenges she will ever face, and the greatest way to ensure that I’m the kind of mother God called me to be. I may not be perfect, but I can pray.

September 28, 2015 by Bethe

Happy Monday :: A free download

One of my friends from church asked me to design something for a loved one who is having surgery. This is the verse she is clinging to – it’s beautiful, isn’t it? I always see it in terms of government – I don’t put my eternal trust in a politician, I know my hope comes from Someone much higher than that. But when facing any kind of battle – be it a surgery, an ailment, a challenge at work, something on the home front, a sick kiddo – what a wonderful truth to plaster on your forehead and hide in your heart!

I shut down my shop because I decided I wanted to give things away. So here you go – a special Monday treat from me – a free download. May we all rise and stand upright today, thanks to the strength of our God!

{Download Print}

September 27, 2015September 27, 2015 by Bethe

Greetings from quarantine

There aren’t enough Disney movies in the world to keep a sick toddler happy.

I’m not making light of kiddos who are REALLY sick. That’s downright awful and terrifying, and those mamas need extra hugs and prayers.

No, what I’m talking about is having a kiddo who is just sick enough to feel crummy – nothing life threatening. In our case, my kiddo had a high fever and some asthma problems, which means we haven’t slept in a week, and when she’s awake, she’s the GRUMPIEST THING IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD.

I know you’re surprised. Because my two-year-old could NEVER throw a terrible tantrum. Who am I kidding, she has thrown some epic tantrums on days when she felt absolutely fine. So please imagine with me for just a moment the kinds of tantrums I have witnessed over the past week from my sleep-deprived, feverish, MAD AS HECK two-year-old.

Yeah. I think I need extra hugs and prayers too.

Let’s just say that this mama has had a challenging week. See, challenging is code for BAD. It sounds so much more “glass is half full,” doesn’t it?

So yeah, it was a rough week over at the Right House. We haven’t had a good night’s sleep in about 10 nights because of that dang asthma, and then for the past five days or so we’ve had a cranky, crying, yelling, feverish toddler who also caught a random virus. Here’s how most of our conversations have gone:

(Me, ever so lovingly and patiently): Honey, would you like some milk?

(My crazy demanding toddler): NO! (with arms crossed, yelling, of course)

(Me, ever so lovingly and patiently): Okay. (closes fridge)

(My crazy demanding toddler): MIIIIIIIILLLLKKKK! Mommy, I want MILK! NOWWWWW!!!! (as she throws her toy across the room, pounds the wall with her fist, then throws herself dramatically on the floor and cries hysterically)

So yeah, this week has been absolutely precious.

It’s such mean twist of fate that at the very time that my precious child needs EXTRA love and grace and patience, Mr. Right and I haven’t slept well in 10 straight nights. Like, several nights we got up over and OVER AND OVER to console our screaming child, give her breathing treatments, bring her milk, rock her back to sleep, BEG HER TO SLEEP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

I would love to take a hammer to that baby monitor.

And then, because she’s sick and contagious, it means we’re home on quarantine. ALL DAY LONG. For a hot minute I fantasized that I would get so many things done, or maybe just sit and cuddle my precious child and watch movies all day.

Yeah, that’s not exactly how our quarantine has gone. It has been filled mostly with a certain someone screaming, “Mommy! Mommy! MOOOOOMMMMMMYYYYYY!” for hours at a time while nothing I do soothes her.

Instead, I have fantasized about drinking a margarita. For breakfast.

But I am happy to report that this morning she woke up her normal, delightful, non-feverish self. Praise the Lord, my crazy tantrum-throwing, happy-with-nothing child has been replaced with the one who loves to give kisses and snuggles and can sometimes make a decision and hasn’t been in time-out a single time all morning.

His mercies are new every morning. And I’m counting down the minutes until naptime… because this mama has a lot of sleep to catch up on.

September 13, 2015September 13, 2015 by Bethe

A night off and adventures for everybody

Parenthood is full of so many contradictions. The biggest one may be this:

1. I love my child and want to be around her ALL THE TIME. I have tailored my career, my hobbies, and my schedule, so that it includes plenty of time to spend with her. Because she’s only a kid once.

2. The minute someone offers to babysit (especially overnight!!!) I’m all like, “Peace out kiddo – mama is getting a night OFF!!!!!!!

Can I get an amen?

Even though we had just had an overnight date a few weeks ago, when the grandparents offered to keep Wrenn overnight so she could spend some extra time with her cousins who were in town visiting, we didn’t think twice. We immediately made reservations at our favorite spot and started counting down the minutes until we could have a hot date. And sleep all night without a baby monitor. And carry one of those tiny clutches instead of a giant mom purse and baby backpack.

It’s the little things, y’all.

I was already as giddy as a high school girl who was asked to Homecoming (have I mentioned that I married the Homecoming King? Yeah. I did.) Then, Mr. Right took it up a notch by sending me FLOWERS. To work. In front of everybody.

I pretty much met him at the door when he came home with a goofy grin on my face ready for a night of fun.

And I would show you photos of this night of fun, but we had too much fun to actually TAKE any pictures. Just imagine me all dressed up – IN HIGH HEELS – having a really great hair day. And Mr. Right looking studly in a new fall-colored shirt he was really proud of. We went to one of our favorite spots (Fort Worth friends… get thee there NOW) and indulged on PBJ chicken wings, fried chicken sliders, mac-n-cheese with bacon and jalapenos, and oysters. We talked about grown-up things and nobody threw a tantrum at the table (sorry Wrenn) and it was so… quiet.

After that, Mr. Right took me out for ice cream BECAUSE HE LOVES ME. And then we came home and sat on the back porch and talked about our upcoming adventure to New York and all the fun things we wanted to do while we’re there. It was such a fun night.

(And mom… don’t worry, we didn’t get any more tattoos.)

The next morning Mr. Right was up before dawn while I slept in until 7:30 (which is my version of noon). While he rode his bike 47 miles from Fort Worth to Dallas, I got a massage and enjoyed a quiet morning to myself. I failed at the “no housework” thing – the weather was just so glorious that I couldn’t help myself… I cleaned out our garage and did some work in the garden. It was a great excuse to get outside on the first cool(er) day in two months.

And then I napped so hard I woke up completely disoriented. That means it was a really good nap, my friends.

While we enjoyed 24 hours of care-free responsibility, little Wrenn got to spend the most glorious day with her cousins in the country, riding the pony and 4-wheelers, playing with stickers and eating popsicles and watching princess movies and fighting over the grandparents’ attention.

This girl had FUN.

When we finally reunited Saturday night, I figured she would come running to me, squealing with delight as she melted into my arms for the biggest hug ever. Instead, we walked in the door and she saw us and started yelling, “No! No! No!” Because girlfriend didn’t want us to take her home. She wanted to stay there forever.

Ahhh, motherhood.

August 31, 2015February 20, 2016 by Bethe

That one time Mr. Right and I got matching tattoos

{Gulp} This is the post where I admit to my mother that I got a tattoo.

I should start by telling you that I don’t even have my ears double pierced. I never pierced my nose or my belly button. I’ve never been in major trouble. I am the chief of all rule followers. I don’t have a rebellious bone in my body. I am a conformist.

Now that I got that off my chest, let me tell you how it happened.

Last month was simply lousy. Hard, and sad, and exhausting. We were no longer in that wear your stretchy pants, binge on ice cream and watch Seinfeld re-runs all night phase. But we still needed some FUN. We needed to laugh and escape from reality and make some special memories as a couple. So Mr. Right surprised me with the news that he had booked us a house through Air BNB, made dinner reservations, and coordinated child care with his parents.

SCORE.

Mr. Right found us the absolute cutest duplex in the Museum District in Fort Worth, just 15 minutes from our house. I started the weekend by checking in and going straight down for a nap (my favorite luxury in the whole wide world), while Mr. Right got a massage. Then we got dressed up and went for dinner at American Food & Beverage. I highly recommend the Chorizo Scotch Eggs and the House Made Ricotta. It could have been my whole meal (but of course I also got the fried chicken because, well, I’m fun like that).

At dinner I casually mentioned that I had been thinking about getting a tattoo in honor of the baby we lost last month. I had been wanting to have something tangible to remember him or her by. We had already agreed to give him a name (because the thought of a nameless baby breaks my heart), but I needed something more. Something to mark the experience.

Mr. Right totally called my bluff. “Let’s go tonight!” he said.

I was thinking more along the lines of maybe in five years or forty years or probably never. But whatever. I got so nervous thinking about it that I ran to the bathroom and got sick. You know, because I’m so good at being a rebel and stuff.

But I did it. We left the restaurant and went to a tattoo parlor in Fort Worth and got MATCHING TATTOOS. Me. This girl.

Let’s just say that I’m probably the least cool person who has ever set foot in that tattoo parlor. And the most square. And I’m pretty sure we made their night with all my questions like “What’s the smallest tattoo I can get?” and “How thin can you make it? No… thinner…”

Let’s also say that my new tattoo is VERY small, and VERY hidden. It’s never going to see the light of day.

Mr. Right and I both got our baby’s initials. It’s so special to me and means that I will have my baby on my being until the day I die. He (or she) will be with me forever. I feel like we took a very sad experience and created a really happy memory. Together. Isn’t that what marriage is all about?

Mr. Right and I haven’t laughed this much in years. We giggled through dinner, through the whole tattoo experience, the rest of the night, and woke up still laughing about it. I mean, come on – WE HAVE MATCHING TATTOOS! That’s just funny.

After that, we slept late, went to brunch, and were back home by lunchtime, snuggling our kiddo. And still laughing.

{Oh – and not to worry… I went ahead and called my mom and told her about the tattoo so she wouldn’t read about it in a blog post. Because I’m a rebel, but not THAT much of a rebel.}

August 26, 2015August 26, 2015 by Bethe

My little chef

Today Wrenn and I made homemade play dough together. I love any sort of project that involves experiencing new things, allowing her to “help,” get her hands dirty (and my kitchen), and create something. I love to watch her little creative mind in action!

Not to mention that we’re pretty big on cooking in this house… so this was a perfect project!

I can’t even handle the cuteness of her chef hat and apron (an awesome hand-me-down from a cousin). Or the serious look on her face as she concentrated SO HARD as she stirred. It was the BEST. My little girl just delights me.

If you want the recipe (and to see some pictures of Wrenn from a year ago before those curls sprouted), go here.

August 25, 2015 by Bethe

How to love and care for a mom after a miscarriage

I’ve watched loved ones walk through extreme grief, so I felt like I had a pretty good idea of how to show love to someone walking through it. But you always gain a better understanding once you walk through it on your own. This isn’t one of those posts where I tell you all the things you need to avoid saying, or not do, so as not to upset your friend. Because really, I knew that people around me were trying their best to show me love. And I understood.

But we all want to love people well. Based on my own experience with having a miscarriage, here are some ways to love on a mom after a miscarriage:

1. Tell her you love her, but don’t expect anything in return.

Walking through grief can be overwhelming, especially in the beginning as waves of emotions toss you around. As soon as I told friends and family, the calls and texts started to flood in. And I couldn’t bear to talk to anybody. Not a one. But just having them reach out to me in my time of personal crisis helped me to feel supported. Knowing I was prayed for got me through those fits of tears. It reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

Give her room to be a lousy friend. She’ll come back when she’s ready.

2. Share your own story.

If you’ve had a miscarriage, share your story of how you grieved. One of my friends texted me almost every day and would tell me the things that she grieved over. Many were the exact same things I was crying over. I wondered if my baby was a boy or a girl. I was heartbroken that he didn’t have a name (so I gave him a name). I longed to hold him in my arms. I missed the feeling that my body was carrying life. I began to dread what would happen next March when my due date comes and goes.

Sharing your story gives your friend the freedom to share hers. Don’t share the sugar-coated version, but be real. And listen. You might become a safe person to confide in.

3. Acknowledge the loss, but don’t worry about what you say.

My favorite response was from someone at work who just hugged me and said, “It sucks.” Because you know what? IT ROYALLY SUCKS. So just say it like it is. I didn’t need to hear words of wisdom or have someone make it better. I just needed to hear people say they loved me and they loved my baby and then give me room to put on my tough face to get through the outing. I didn’t want to cry on any shoulders in public. But a quick acknowledgement and a “How are you doing?” helped my heart. Because it was still a big deal to me. The biggest deal.

4. Pray. Pray. Pray.

When you’re hurting the most, sometimes it’s hard to know what to pray for. There just aren’t enough words. Or energy. Or tears. And that’s the time when you need other people to pray on your behalf – to know that you’re surrounded by people passionately crying out to God for you. So pray for your friend who is hurting, then shoot her a quick text message or drop her a note in the mail and let her know what you prayed.

Friends who have experienced a miscarriage – what other ways were you loved and cared for? I’d love to hear from you!

August 19, 2015August 18, 2015 by Bethe

Styled by Wrenn

I used to wonder if girlie girls were a result of nature or nurture. Well, Wrenn came out of the womb ready to accessorize. This girl loves dressing up in princess dresses, tutus, high heels, and as much jewelry as she can manage to reach. And she’s always carrying the perfect bag. It delights me (and the people we encounter in public while she’s wearing her ensembles).