Show Up and Shine

Ever had to work really hard to conceal your total and complete exhaustion? Extra foundation under your eyes, more coffee in your system, less-than-sincere smile straining across your lips? You’re not alone. Even on the day we’re worn most thin, we look around for a little sympathy, and each face seems to say the same thing, “I need this merry-go-round to STOP! I, too, am beyond what I can handle.” It’s a part of our human experience, I’m sure, this being worn-out thing. And being tired is just part of life. But being “exhausted” shouldn’t be our permanent state of being! God’s people weren’t meant to live lives of weariness! But is it even possible to escape it?

In The Jesus-Hearted Woman, Jodi Detrick retells the story of the ten virgins (Matthew 25) and answers a question for me that has been longstanding. The story goes that ten virgins, we’ll call them bridesmaids, were waiting on the bridegroom. When he was late arriving, they lay down to sleep. But only five of them were wise enough to bring plenty of oil to last through the night. And just as they got word the groom was on his way, five of the bridesmaids ran out of oil. They turned to the wise ones and asked for some extra oil. (And here’s what’s always had me curious…) The five wise bridesmaids tell the foolish ones, “There’s a Walmart down the road; they’ve got plenty of oil. We’ll see you when you get back.”

I’ve always wondered about this. I’ve thought, “Jesus said, ‘If somebody asks for your shirt, give him your coat, too, and give to all who ask of you.’ So then why in this story do the bridesmaids respond with, ‘Get your own oil, ladies. There’s a Walmart down the road.’?”

Jodi says that the wise bridesmaids were smart enough not to give away what would sustain them. Their light was free - their oil? Well, everyone would have to get their own oil. Because if they gave out all their oil, how would they give light when it was needed?

And truth sunk so deeply into my soul. So many times, whenever anyone has demanded, I’ve handed out oil, not just light. I’ve let others toy with what would sustain me and bring me purpose in this world, when I should have been giving of the overflow of my life. Instead of being responsible to have enough oil for my light to continue shining, when my light grew dim and resources were thin, I’ve given of what I could not afford to give. You’ve done it too, haven’t you?

We women are infamous for that - we give into a deficit, we give well into the red, and then we look around, totally spent, seeking some way to be replenished. We give until the oil is gone, the light is out, and we might be able to show up, but we certainly cannot shine. Often, we’re under the assumption this is right, or even honorable. That we’re being “selfless”. (It’s actually a little on the selfish side to give everything we have to make sure everyone is happy with us - but this isn’t an essay on people-pleasing. We’ll save that for later.)

The point is, Jesus has supplied you with oil - His presence, His love, His mercies new every morning - so that you can light a darkened world. Our mission is to bring others to Him that He may also give them oil. If He is esteemed, remember, He’ll draw people unto HIM. There they can receive all they need. There’s no place for us to play dress-up, acting like everyone’s stand-in messiah, giving out our best imitation of the true oil. We will never be enough.

But! Our light will always be enough to draw others to the real Source. That’s all He’s asked you to do:  get your oil, and let your light so shine. It is possible to escape the weariness! Shut the world out for just a moment (yes, even the kids). Today, instead of living exhausted, we can choose to set limits for ourselves, boundaries for others’ influence on our lives, and be replenished in the life-giving waters of His presence. We can choose the oil, let our lamps be filled, and shine on - a bright light drawing others to His greatness and mercies.

Show up and Shine, Girl!

The Cure for the Overwhelmed

I’ve never felt so lost and overwhelmed. My husband knew it as he sat down in front of me with a sharpie and a blank sheet of computer paper. "Look, let me help you out," as he scribbled in his usual manner of barely comprehensible penmanship. When he turned the page around and slid it over to me, it was a brief list. At the top - "Amanda's Priorities".

It read:

Feed Amanda

Feed Luke

Luke sleep

Luke bathed

Amanda sleep

Amanda showered

House/Work/Etc.

Luke was born just two weeks earlier. Our first child. And of all the warnings and cautionary tales I heard throughout my pregnancy, none of them were, “If for the first few weeks you feel like you’re losing your mind, having heart palpitations, and paddling with all your might just to keep your nose above the waves of emotions and surges of anxiety, this is normal. And it will pass.”

I looked around me at a million things I still wanted to get done - clean the house, get back to work, cook more meals, take the baby to relatives' houses - and I couldn’t get to any of them. Not to mention I had no clue how I was going to make sure this fragile little life I was now responsible for survived infancy.

Here I was with fifteen staples across my gut, nursing a baby what felt like every second, and collapsing under the anxiety that all the rest of our life was going to fall to pieces while I recovered from a c-section and nursed my sweet boy. We would lose ground in relationships we'd been investing in, ministries we were a part of, and events we should have been more involved in.

"But how do I know I'm successful, Webb?" I was looking for something, anything, to show me that it was going to be ok, I wasn’t failing, and I was doing exactly what I should be doing.

"You're successful,” he responded compassionately, “when you and the baby are fed and mostly clothed. This is called 'survival mode'."

My husband has the privilege to serve as an Associate Pastor and Worship Leader at our wonderful church and I am blessed to work at his side as our church administrator.  Luke comes to our office with me every day. It's a dream situation.

But then there are days when the perfect storm brews and our office is enveloped in chaos. Luke’s having an off day and does more screaming than sleeping; I'm under the pressure of a deadline that requires both my hands to work on it; Webb’s trying to listen to and counsel students in an office with a colicky baby and an overwhelmed wife; And all the while I'm dreading going home because I'll have to face the wreckage that is our house for a few hours before coming back for a church service that I know my son is not going to tolerate well. Oh, and everything, I do mean everything, is covered in spit up. Baby reflux isn't a joke.

In the middle of it, there is nothing else - the chaos seems indefinite. And I find myself living just like I did those first two weeks of Luke's life: no food, no water, no idea if my outfit matches (and pretty sure it has dried spit up on it), looking around wondering how moms of two and three and four kids make it look so easy and effortless and I’m feeling like a failure.

This is where the temptation beckons:  I want to look effortless. I want perfection. I want to do it all. I want to be Superwoman and get it all done while having enviable hair and great shoes. And the wave of “overwhelmed” starts to gather strength while I strive for perfection. The undercurrent of anxiety pulls at my ankles. 

I'm trying to choose to live real. Rather than perpetuate an unrealistic image, I’m letting others see the tears, the messy vehicle, and the kid still wearing his pj's at noon because khakis at seven this morning wasn't working out. I’m letting go of my idol of perfectionism and when I do, the plague of anxiety wanes.

I’m learning that my key to [trying to be] a balanced wife, mommy, and minister - the cure for my “overwhelmed” - is humility. Pride demands I am Superwoman. Pride means I show up for every meeting and service, perfectly dressed with a perfectly dressed son. Pride says my house is perfectly in order. Pride whispers, "You must have it all and do it all. If you can't, what kind of woman are you?"

But humility, oh the sweet freedom of humility, reminds me that often what is best for my family is what is unseen by others. And when I'm humble enough to do what is best, without concern for other's thoughts of me, without the need to impress them with all I can do with a kid on my hip, my family is happier. I am healthier. We're all whole.

Humility means I can choose "best" over "most". Quality over quantity. It gives me the gift of sanity. Humility restores order to my life, to our home.

Humility cures me. It frees me to ask for help, it shows me what to let go, it makes me ok with my limits, and it helps me drop unrealistic expectations of myself.

Last Sunday morning as we rushed around the house trying to make sure we were out the door by 7:45, baby in tow and diaper bag packed for twelve hours, I was showered and ready when I went to get Luke out of his bouncy seat and dress him for church. I had the cutest little outfit set out - khakis and a plaid shirt. But when I laid eyes on him, my heart swelled with peace. He was sleeping soundly with a little smile on his face. I knew his restfulness would give way to crankiness should I wrangle him into his Sunday best.

Humility took over. I picked him up and slowed the morning routine down. I held him close, pressed his warm cheek to mine, and swayed in the silence. And then I gently kissed his forehead, tucked him into his car seat, still in his warm, little sleeper with the smiling bear on the tummy. I put his outfit in the diaper bag for “later”. And we went to church.

Stuff Baby (Well, ok, my baby) Needs

So when you're pregnant, there is a moment in which you're walked into a baby megastore, handed a scanner, and told, "Scan the barcode of any and everything you think you may need for your new baby."

"What if I've never had a baby before and I have no idea what I'll actually 'need'?"

"Just scan everything that you could possibly 'need'."

"So, like, define 'need'. Like, items my baby will never be functional without? Items that make it easier for me to care for my baby? Items that help baby's growth and development?"

"Yes, you need all those."

"I do."

"Well, let's just say this, every mom registers for it."

I started sweating profusely and the whole store turned into a blur of primary colors and powdery smells. So, let me just say this, I agonized over the potential needs for Luke before he got here ("What if we DO need a self-walking stroller and a baby's first miner's cap with flashlight!? I know all stores are set to self-destruct the day after Luke is born. We'll never have what we need if I don't deal with this now!").

Good news is - I survived the registry process. AND! I have found there was very little I actually needed (outside diapers, wipes, clothes, and nourishment, duh). So, beyond the goes-without-saying needed items, here's the gear I've found most awesome (for 0-6 months anyway).

1. Bouncy Seat - Just a plain, no nonsense, no bells and whistles, bouncy seat. Luke has spent countless hours in it. And, since it's so light and mobile, I took it to every room in the house with me. Two reasons:  the uprightness helped with his reflux, and the mobility of it helped him always be where I was without my needing to hold him. It. is. our. friend.

2. Diaper bag that doubles. I didn't want to be a two-bag mom. Nor did I want to be a ABC, 123, Giraffe Bag mom. Not that I have a problem with letters, numbers, or animals, but let's be honest, Luke is so lazy. He still hasn't carried his diaper bag, not even one little time. So, I wanted fashion and multifunction. And I couldn't be happier with the bag I found. Love.

3. Buttpaste. I slather it on every night (on him of course) when I would put a diaper on him that's likely to be on him a while. And! In seven months, we've had one slight diaper rash! Lasted a week and cleared up.

4.  A humidifier. Keeping his room a little humid when he sounds sniffly allows his sinuses to drain (gross, I know), which prevents a cold getting worse or even turning into an ear infection. Thankfully, we've not had a bad cold or an ear infection yet. Praise the Lord!

5.  Possibly my most favorite item was this pack n play we purchased from Amazon. It was our priciest buy as new parents, but we've used it every single day since he was born. It sat beside our bed his first three months for those middle of the night nursing sessions and we used the bassinet portion, then I brought it to work with me and he napped in it at the raised level (that you can see in the middle, minus the bassinet and changer), and now we've lowered it and he'll play for 20-30 minutes at a time in it while I work. I have LOVED it (basinet vibrates, it's inclined which was great for his reflux, changer wipes off easily, there's plugin for an iPod which we used to play white noise for him during the colicky days, and the actual play yard part is soft and cozy). Only thing I found not really helpful was the storage on the side - pretty flimsy, so I only kept diapers in there.

6.  Kiinde. For a breastfeeding mom who needs just a bit more convenience in her life - eliminate the middle man! Pump, refrigerate, and feed baby all out of the same bag. Bag attaches to your pump (pretty much any pump), then has a nipple so it becomes its own bottle. No more transfer from pump bottle, to bag, to baby bottle! Life. is. good.

7.  Carrier. This infantino thing has been AWESOME on several occasions, especially the airport! It's a less expensive option for mommies who might not use it daily, and it works really well.

8.  Otterbox. Yeah, it's a phone accessory. But check it out - my kid can hold the phone, watch Veggie Tales, teethe on it, throw it, and we're good. Yes, please.

9.  Groovebook. Great way to print off and store your phone pictures. $2.99 a month, 100 pictures, and no more mom guilt over, "what am I going to do with the entire history of my child's life - because like, 9,999 of these 10,000 pictures aren't really frame worthy?"

10.  Woombie. Luke loved this swaddle (in his immobile days). It seemed very cozy to him and it helped him sleep just a bit longer than without it. We tried other swaddling blankets, but I'm pretty inept, and I had a hard time swaddling him in a way that actually stayed secure. And this one, yeah, it's like swaddling for dummies. Awesome.

11. Monitor. There are about a million and a half options for a baby monitor. This one has been perfect for us. Highly recommend.

And yes, that's eleven items, I made myself twitch but those are literally my favorite items and there just happened to be eleven. Sorry fellow lovers of even numbers.

Happy mommying! Or, happy buying awesome stuff for a mommy you know!

Presence & Light

Our last date as non-parents! Three days from my due date. No signs of contractions and feeling fine. We were headed to dinner at one of my favorite places, and as I finished my hair, I just couldn’t get past what I had been feeling the last few hours. I looked at Webb and said, “Uhm…I feel a little strange.” I explained the details and he said, “Call the doctor just in case.”

I expected to hear the nurse say, “This is your first baby, right? Yeah. Calm down. When you’re in labor, you’ll know (coupled with a totally audible eye roll).” But instead it was, “Come on in to the hospital and let us check you. Better to be safe on this with what you’re describing.”

I was a little stunned. But we grabbed the hospital bag, which had sat prepared for weeks, and out the door we went. I was sure they’d check me and then we’d go on to dinner. It wasn’t until we were halfway to the hospital that I realized this could be the big shebang. Webb said, “The next time we walk into our home we may be carrying our son." 

"Oh my gosh. You're so right. This could be the real deal..."

And indeed it was! When they hooked me up to the monitor, it immediately registered strong contractions three minutes apart. But, after an hour, there was no increase in intensity and one nurse (who I assessed to be quite experienced) told me, “This is going to take a while. You’ll be best to go home and weather these contractions until you have to come back.” She was sooo right.

But, my doctor made me stay.

Twenty-seven hours later, Emanuel Luke was born.  He was perfect. His little scrunched up face, furrowed brow, and puckered lips. He was quiet and lovely and as apprehensive as he should have been, his entire existence changing completely in a matter of seconds.

I never dilated past three centimeters, and it occurred to me somewhere about the fifteenth hour of labor that it was likely I wouldn’t be naturally delivering my son. When our doctor came in one last time, he said, “Look, I could let you do this for another full day,” (thanks for the opportunity…), “but you’re going to have a c-section. Today, tomorrow. It’s happening.”

I chose today. Because, well, you know…labor. I’d had a couple doses of pain medicine through the night, but an epidural wasn’t really my thing. (Until they said they said ‘c-section’, then it was totally my thing.)

My mom made it to the hospital in Edenton, North Carolina from Tucson just four hours before I went to the operating room. So, with much of our family gathered around, Webb prayed for a safe delivery and a quick recovery.

My teeth chattered as they prepped me for the surgery, a combination of cold, nerves, and anticipation. Webb asked our nurse for one more favor. “Can she take this iPod in with her?”

One of the greatest comforts to me through labor was a recording of my favorite worship songs that Webb had played on piano. He took several hours to put it together so I’d have it for the occasion.  I loved it and had listened to it the full last month of my pregnancy. But I was certain they wouldn’t let me take an iPod into the operating room. I was wrong! And the nurse carried it with her as she walked me toward the OR.

They got me set up on the table, and my mind raced. “I’m so upset that this is turning out this way. And! It’s going to be so much more expensive! Why couldn’t things have just gone ‘normally’?” then the reality of why I was so upset washed over me, “This is just the first of many things I won’t be able to control with my kids.  I am being gently (or not so gently) made aware that my plans or hopes won’t always be the path that my child, or my family, takes. I’ve got to let go…

One thing I wasn’t mentally prepared for was my arms being restrained. When stretched them out beside me and strapped them down, I realized it was a significant moment – I had to lay down my plans for, and my control of, my child right this very minute. I started praying.

I had completely forgotten about the iPod when a nurse held up an earbud to me. I turned my head and she placed it in my ear and hit play. The notes of the chorus, “I Surrender All” rang out, and tears streamed.  What a perfect moment. What a way to welcome my boy. With the full knowledge that I will never be enough for him nor will my plans for his life ever be the best.  It was all to be orchestrated by a much better and totally perfect Conductor.

Emanuel Luke. We call him Luke. Emanuel means, “God with us,” and Luke means, “Light,”. Our prayer is that Luke will always know the Lord is with him and that he’ll bring His light wherever he goes.

Emanuel Luke Hoggard

Born at 9:21 PM, January 31^st, 2014

Seven pounds, fourteen ounces

Twenty and a half inches long

When the Paradox Prepares You

Rolled over in the bed at four o'clock a few nights ago. And as I settled in to get back to sleep, I thought, "It seems just a bit cold in here. What's the deal?" I trudged to the thermostat and blinked awake enough to read it. "45".

Forty-five degrees! Inside our house! And to be honest, after adding a couple more layers of clothing, it wasn't that big of a deal. What with my raging pregnancy hormones and Webb's longterm, honorary induction to the polar bear family, it was pretty much my perfect version of camping:  comfy bed, indoor plumbing, night light, but with cool night air.

However, we figured we should probably look into remedying the heater situation since our baby's been a toasty ninety-eight degrees for nine months and probably wouldn't acclimate to forty-five real well. Yeah, we may be first-time parents, but we do know a few things. And, thank the Lord, it was a simple fix, just a breaker. 

Webb has been the best husband to a pregnant wife that has ever walked our earth. Have I mentioned that? Especially these last few weeks. I've had a slightly inconvenient onset of pregnancy carpel tunnel which makes doing almost anything more difficult than it should be. Especially anything requiring fine motor skills. Like snaps or buttons. Or writing. And he's been there to help with every task. Patient when he sees me trying to open something (anything!) and that look of total exasperation crosses my face. He just smiles and takes care of it. 

In all this weakness, I've been wondering:  why is it that the Lord saw fit to make me as dependent and needy as I've ever been right before the moment I'm sure I'll need to be stronger and more capable than I ever have? I have never felt so helpless as I have through pregnancy. Can't lift this, or reach that. My body won't cooperate. I'm exceedingly clumsy (as if I wasn't before). And yet in the coming days, I feel that the only version of myself I should be is the best, strongest, most capable one.

I feel Jesus using all my current handicaps to remind me that the most daunting things in life don't require any of our strength; They require His. I need the strength of the Lord in order to pass on strength to my child. I need the covering of my husband to serve as a conveyor belt of power. There's a pipeline, a channel, which must be intact for God's provision to flow in the best possible way. And I'm so thankful Webb honors the Lord and leans on Him for everything he needs to pass on to our family.

We have spent many days since the news of our little one praying that the Lord will help us keep the structure of our family intact. Asking Him to remind us to set our minds on things above, to then love and serve each other as spouses, and then to bless and nurture our children. Health begets health. And where we lack, God's grace builds a bridge. And what we cannot help or fix, God mends together.

None of us is strong alone. Interdependence, all leaning together, collapsing on the One who is all strength, is our only course of action. Our only path for wholeness and health.  

So, in all of my neediness, I suppose I can empathize greatly with this little boy who will grace our home soon and rely upon us for everything. Empathy is a gift. Compassion is a privilege. Strength is a shared commodity, distributed among us, flowing from the strongest to the weakest - making all sturdy. And I can't wait to snuggle our boy close and show him how able Jesus has made all of us.

Ready or Not!

Almost to the finish line. The one that marks the beginning. And when I think I'm ready to feel normal again, free of all the weird and quirky, sometimes violent, things my body is demonstrating, I remember this:  nothing about us will ever be 'normal' again! In all the most beautiful of ways.

I received the most thoughtful gift from the most thoughtful friend yesterday. A journal called, "One Line a Day". It's a tiny book that can collect five years of daily reflections - yes, all in one book. Such a sweet thing that I'm looking forward to using. This particular friend has four little ones, she knows my days of lingering with a cup of coffee and pensively penning my innermost thought for minutes on end will soon be hard to find, well, at least for about 18 years. But, one line a day? I think I can manage that!

I wonder quite frequently at this point what kind of mom I'll be. Blogs are sometimes the worst! (She says, ironically, as she blogs.) I read things from these moms who are still growing their own gardens and canning organic food, cooking and freezing 50 meals at a time, cloth diapering and saving their husbands tons of cash, actually doing the junk they see on pinterest, rocking out their kids' sleeping and eating schedules, and still managing to have a wardrobe that looks like it's somewhere near the last five years' style standards.

I'm not making any promises about those things to myself. If the house is still standing and we're fed and love each other, I will demand my husband celebrate our wild success with me.

Questions are constant at this point - are you going natural for labor? are you going to nurse or bottle-feed? what about childcare? Again. I'm making no promises. But I do have a few things I hope to do.

I hope to go natural for labor (cue chuckles from some of you). No, I have no 'granola' type notions about it, no convictions about wanting to be completely aware the first moment of my baby's arrival. Just two things - I’d love to avoid surgery…pretty simply, and also, I don't want it on our tab when we leave the hospital.

I am hoping to nurse, supposing it's healthier and more cost effective. But if it doesn't work out, I won't guilt myself into a pile of tears and remorse. We'll just choose the best formula possible and I'll hand off some midnight feedings to Webb.

Childcare? No clue. Not worried about it yet. (Rephrase, not letting myself worry about it.)

So, here we are! Three weeks to go! And what a journey this has been! A few snapshots - forgive the gaps, some phone pics need to remain on the phone and in the memory…only. (While all of pregnancy is memorable, it's not all pretty, amirite?)

Week 5 - We were both shocked!

 This was the craziest to me! The difference between weeks 5 and 9!

Week 12 - Things are starting to sink in - we're having a baby!

Week 14 - on one of my FOUR trips to Florida during this pregnancy. 

Week 20 - we're halfway and time is passing far too quickly! I wanted to freeze the moment, and I was saddened at the thought that probably all his growing up would feel this fast - especially in hindsight. Made a promise to myself to cherish every moment, every new phase and age he has, and all of his growing - even when that growing means independence from me and dad. 

Week 24 - enjoying the season we're in! I've spent so much of my pregnancy very much ok with being patient, waiting for his arrival. Partly out of sheer terror! But mostly, because I know these moments will only happen once. 

Week 25 - mostly just because that's my favorite maternity shirt. 

Week 29 - Third trimester and strangers are starting to give me preference for shopping carts and hold doors for me. High five. 

Week 32 - Happy mom and baby. My sister in law is my hero for letting me borrow this top - it's been a lifesaver on many "nothing will ever fit again!" days. 

Week 33 - Enjoying the holidays and trying on my new nursing cover from my best friend.

Week 35 - Yes, still the dead of winter and I'm wearing a summer top. This baby has undeniably altered my inner thermostat! 

And week 36 - Look at him, just poking his little self out there all proud and happy. Oh my, I love him. 

The nursery has transformed a bit…

Thanks to an awesome shower from our wonderful church family…

It was super special to have my Mom who came all the way from Arizona, my brother, Jeff, sister in law, Lisa, and their three kids (from West Virginia), AND my 'frister' Kristin, who traveled from Florida. 

 I did the first few loads of baby's laundry and squealed. One, because the Bock grandparents blessed us with an awesome new washer and dryer and laundry is actually fun! And two, because I was folding little boy clothes…what!? 

I would share a million more things with you if I thought you wouldn't slip into a coma. But now, the bags are packed, the carseat is loaded and ready, the prayers are whispered constantly - as I hope they always will be - and we are leaning into the calm and silence before we first hear his cry. Can't wait.