Dear New Mom (Who Loves her Husband but Doesn't Want to Go out this Weekend),
  
I get it.

   It's that Valentine-y time of the year again, and you're feeling the pressure.  Whoever thought that only guys felt the pressure of Valentines Day obviously never took a survey of any new moms.

  You know you should be wanting to go on that date.  Wanting an excuse to dig those heels out of the closet and head out for a night on the town.  But all you really, truly want to do is throw on a pair of sweats and shoo all of the kids into bed so you can sit down on the couch with some chocolate and watch an overly-emotional Parenthood finale re-run.

I get it because I was there.  Not all that long ago.

   I was in the thick of nursing and newborns and getting-up-every-few-hours and diapers and laundry and messes that seemed to reproduce at night, and going on a fancy date seemed as appealing as scratching my eyeballs out with steel wool.

It just felt like I was never going to want to date again.

  But before the kids and the strollers and the nighttime feedings.....things were different.  Before we ever walked down that aisle on that beautiful April day, said our vows and began procreating, I loved dating.

   My husband was definitely "one of those guys".  Always coming up with the most creative, romantic, unique, fun, amazing dates.  We went on scavenger hunts, hikes, bike rides and walks along the beach.  We enjoyed plays and comedians and picnics by waterfalls.  We drank coffee and browsed bookstores and ate at lovely restaurants that made me feel much classier than I actually am.  He surprised me endlessly with flowers and chocolates and special little gifts and everything felt a little bit like a fairytale.

   And getting ready was one of the best parts.  The evening never seemed to arrive fast enough as I deliberated over outfits spread all over my room.  I fussed with my hair and makeup, spraying perfume and trying on shoes and hoping to get everything just right.  And then....that giddy little feeling when you see his car pull into the drive!  He was here! And you were going out! And all was right with the world.

   Don't get me wrong, it's not that after marrying him and bearing him children that I loved him any less.  In fact, I'm more and more certain with each passing year that I love him MORE.

   But there is still no way around the fact that when you have been wiping spit up off of your shoulder and vacuuming up Cheerios and stumbling around in your sleep-deprived, zombie-like state all day.....dating loses some of its appeal.

    Suddenly a "night-in" doesn't sound anything remotely like "giving up" like I used to think it meant.  It just sounds like a divine appointment with your over-sized sweat shirt and yoga pants and a sexy back massage.  Which to a postpartum woman is pretty much as fancy as you would ever want to get anyway.

And so I guess I say all this to say.......take it easy on yourself.

   If you choose to stay home?  You're not a failure.  Your marriage isn't doomed.  You're not becoming "one of those moms" you never said you would become.  It's OK.  It's a fleeting stage, and it will pass. I know because it changed for me.  And dates sound wonderful and delightful and enticing again, and I even like wearing heels!  So those days will come sooner than you think.  This time of newborns?  Of feeling like a milk machine and auto-pilot robot?  It won't last forever.  And so cut yourself some slack, and stay home if you have to.  You will look forward to dating again, I promise.

   And if you choose to go out?  Good for you! Bravo.  You've done yourself a favor, even if it doesn't feel like it.  It really is so important to carve out that "you-and-me time" with your man, even when a baby is sucking your every resource dry.  You might be checking your phone every 15 minutes to make sure that baby is OK, or worried about leaking through your brand-new dress, but everything is going to be fine.  No one is judging you if you try your best to relax and enjoy yourself but find yourself wanting to cry half of the time.  HORMONES ARE REAL.  

   So just take a deep breath and realize that fancy date or not, it's going to be OK.  You still love each other, you have a beautiful life, and life is too short to freak out over a different phase.  Each phase is fleeting, and beautiful in its own uniquely different, and sometimes difficult, ways.

We aren't all giddy, dating singles.
We aren't all glowing, blushing newlyweds.

   But we still LOVE.  Deeply, passionately, tenderly.  We balance budgets and pay mortgages and step on Legos and find fruit snacks in our purse, but we are still lovers.  We are best friends and companions and help-meets and spouses and MEANT FOR EACH OTHER.  And nothing changes that.  Even if date nights change.

Sincerely,
Me.


Inspiration for this post was found from a picture about date night by Angi Martin on Instagram. 

FRIENDS.

   This is going to be quick because today is Grandma Day and we all know time is precious but on G-Day, time is P-R-E-C-I-O-U-S.

   But I simply could NOT let this day go by without sharing what happened this morning.  It was one of those total, absolute, soul-filling God moments, and I feel like if I give testimony to it, then somehow, in some small way, that drives the stake deeper in the ground and gives roots to what took place, making it harder for the Enemy to steal away.

   The day started like any other ordinary, blessed, Grandma day.  I dropped the kids off at my mother-in-law's, and grabbed an iced coffee on my way home.  First up on my agenda was exercise and I use this video, in case anyone is interested.  It is a combination of pilates and ballet, which fulfills all of my deep-seated longings to have taken ballet classes as a child.  Or at least it comes close to that.  


  Plus it has like, zero jumping around and hard-core cardio which I have come to loathe.  I used to try my hand at P90x and Insanity, and then I slowly but surely discovered that it's not called "Insanity" for nothing.  So now I do barre, and I LOVE IT.

   During my workout, I had the music cranked and a song came on the Pandora station that I wasn't entirely familiar with.  After I was finished, I went back over to the computer and looked it up and watched the music video, and that is when the gray clouds cleared and the sun broke through.

   Perhaps you've already heard this song and maybe even I have too, but today is the first day I really HEARD it, you know??

The first time that the words were meant for no one else in the world but me.
The first time I let myself hear with my heart, instead of only with my head.
The first time I dared to believe that this could really, truly be TRUTH.
The first time it felt as if it was actually God speaking, and not just Mercy Me.

Please do yourselves a huge favor and take a listen:


   I sat in stunned silence as the music played over the speakers.  The lyrics spoke life to my heart and healing to my wounds and suddenly, I found myself kneeling on the ground and crying out to Jesus and then standing with arms raised, dancing with tears streaming down my face.

   Somehow, in spite of my Mennonite upbringing, a little charismatic thread is woven through my soul.  Who would've guessed?

   It was the most incredibly healing experience.  I will be dwelling on these words for a long time to come.  I just want to emblazon them high and tall and wide in my home in the boldest of prints, so that each morning when I rise, my heart turns to truth and not lies.

Everyday I wrestle with the voices

That keep telling me I'm not right

But that's alright.

'Cause I hear a voice and He calls me redeemed

When others say I'll never be enough.

And greater is the One living inside of me

Than he who is living in the world.

Every time I fall

There'll be those who will call me

A mistake

Well that's ok.

Grace says that doesn't matter

'Cause the cross already won the war.

I am learning to run freely

Understanding just how He sees me

And it makes me love Him more and More.

   I just wanted to thank Jesus over and over and over and over.  It's as if He's always been speaking these things to me but I finally stopped listening to the lies long enough to hear His soft and gentle voice.  I am loved.  I am enough.  I am holy and righteous and redeemed.  And this might not be that monumental to any of you, but it was ground-breaking for me.

   I felt everything slightly shift.  As if this entire time I have been looking through a cloudy glass, and someone finally took the time to clean it, bringing everything into a bright and clear focus.  And I am grateful.

  For my devotions I just wanted to read everything I could about that verse, so I read all of 1 John, and I would highly recommend that you do that when you get the chance.  Then I made myself a real breakfast for once, because the girls weren't pulling at me in all directions....fresh eggs with basil from our garden, tomatoes from the neighbors and homemade sourdough bread with honey.  The bread had gone a little extra sour reminding me that it is time to make some more, and the eggs reminded me that I need to feed the chickens and the basil reminded me that there are other things to pick and weed and water outside.


   Life goes on.  The mundane, every day duties call at us on every side.  But that doesn't mean that God can't meet us in mighty and powerful ways in small, seemingly insignificant moments.

  And I won't pretend to believe that after this God-moment there won't be any more struggle.  That I will not feel the weight of my insecurities pressing in around me or hear the lies slowly whispered in the darkness......we live in a broken world and those times WILL come.

   But what I CAN believe, is that the One that is in me is greater than he who is living in the world.  That, I can know.  That, I can claim.

And I just had to share that with all of you.