Dancing

A few months ago I visited a friends’ farm for the purpose of seeing their new baby goats. I thought that I would see little goats huddled in a cage, but instead it was baby goat exercise time— All four of them had just eaten and as the wind ruffled their fur, they began to leap about in the funniest, most delightful way! Sometimes their legs would swing too high and suddenly they would flip around with their feet awkwardly landing behind them. I was clearly able to picture in my mind all the verses in the Bible which talk about mountains jumping like lambs or rams. Job 21:11 says, “They send forth their little ones like a flock, and their children dance”, and I can see why he would compare dancing children with dancing baby goats; both are a blessing and both are lighthearted.

As a child I attended a classical Christian school which meant that “balls” were a common occurrence and your typical American dancing was unheard of (and forbidden). Instead, we private-schoolers learned the “Virginia Reel” and the “Pattycake Polka” from Kindergarten and up! As a child I remember the feeling of freedom of dancing as fast as I could, sweaty hands clutching my equally sweaty partner, both of us dressed to the nines in our school uniform, involving pleated, plaid skirts (for the girls), vests, and ironed button downs. I’ll never forget my racing heart as I was twirled around and around. The boys always tried to see who could spin the girls the fastest; the hope was that the girls would actually gain air and lift off of the ground or let out an ear-piercing shriek of fear.

As a teen I became extremely embarrassed of dancing, but remembering what it was like as child puts previously dull verses of the Bible to life! Psalm 30:11 says, “Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.” Because my story of salvation feels like it was just yesterday, I can fully relate the act of dancing to my walk with God. True physical dancing requires a sense of fearlessness, being completely unhindered by pain or emotional worries; it is a picture of freedom. This is what Jesus has done for me and replaced sorrow and a heavy-heartedness with spiritual dancing. A mourning heart cannot dance. A heart that has been forgiven much, can turn mourning into happy feet. Sporre says, “It is without doubt that dance is part of human communication at its most fundamental level” (p. 179). Since becoming a Christian, I have spent more time dancing willingly than ever before, although it often ends up being to the tune of “Old MacDonald” with my toddler. Throughout difficult circumstances, my life is a dance. A dance while making dinner with a two-year-old on my hip, a dance while being a receptionist and scheduling a client to see hear all her pregnancy options and see her baby on an ultrasound screen, and last but not least, a dance at midnight when I feel discouraged by homework and exhausted, but the Lord gives me the strength to push forward.

Sporre, D. J. (2013). Reality Through the Arts: Eighth Edition. Hong Kong: Pearson Education, Inc.

Daycare Application, December 2014

Our first daycare application, December 2014.

Question #3: Is there anything I NEED to know about your child?

Long pause with my scratchie blue sharpie.

First of all, thank you for asking this crucial question and giving me a very tiny space to write my answer. What do you need to know about my child! Well, I present to you my heart, walking around outside of my body in size 6 orange shoes with polka dots and an Elsa dress on. I want you to know that she is different than any other child you will ever encounter. Every night I still stand over her bed and can't even believe that something so perfect exists. Her little strawberry blonde fro fluffs above the pillow and her tiny little rosebud mouth is open and she breathes softly with her little hands curled up by her face. I can't believe she's my daughter. She's so much more than her curly hair or her sunshine smile or her ocean blue eyes.

She eases into the morning with me. I have my coffee and she has her milk. A few minutes later, she could be tempted with the mention of buttery waffles or buttery toast or buttery eggs, the main ingredient of butter being the most important. By lunch, you'd better be moving quickly- she'll eat everything you have to offer and ask for more! She loves to read more than anything. She'll sit and read to herself, and anyone else who's around. She's a singer with the sweetest voice you've ever heard. You'll hear her sing the ABC's and "Pippi Yongstocking" or "Baby Jeeezus". Sometimes she'll bellow the words with everything in her little body; sometimes I hear it from across the house and my eyes fill with tears.

She's a shouter, a dancer, an encourager, a comforter. She's like a baby robin hopping in spring. She's so smart. Her brain grows every day, as fast as her hair! I can't tell you the number of times she's comforted another crying child, or how fast she forgives someone who has hit her, or how fast she figures out how to get what she wants. She also has the best sense of humor ever, so you can start taking yourself less seriously now. Please be careful because one day soon you may find yourself with a small finger painfully lodged in your armpit.

It's also important you know that if a hair touches her hand, she will be completely debilitated (this will be handy if you need her to stay in one spot for awhile). I've found that if the hair is swiftly removed by an adult, life can go on. Note: the hair cannot and will not be removed by her in any situation. Also note: she will eat oranges if you peel them in her presence and remove all strings or any other unusual orange debree, and put them directly into her open mouth. She does not allow her hands to touch oranges.

Be careful with her, because she has quite the future. She's going to be amazing. All thirty-three inches of her has already shaken my world and just about everyone else she's encountered, in only two years. You honestly have no idea what her very existence has done to my life!

This is probably your one hundredth child in the last two months, and you've probably just about had it with all the concerned parents. I want you to know I completely trust you with this girl, and I put her happily in your hands, knowing her Heavenly Dad loves her much more than I.

You're going to help her grow and learn and ultimately, you WILL be the only reason she is potty trained before 3 because honestly I've tried really hard, and it's not working. You're also going to lie to her about the Easter Bunny, but I forgive you for that.

Her favorite food is boogers, and she loves talking about dinosaurs and babies.

Other than that... No, there's nothing you need to know!

The above two were taken by Christy Kohl

(Courtesy of Creative Image)

Loved

It’s been five months since I’ve returned to my old friend The Blog, a place where I try to inspire single moms and other readers, update my family and friends on my life, and record things as they happen. It is difficult not to go back and delete some entries, but I want to keep everything here. Life is a story, and we do not get to delete the parts that we are embarrassed of or wish we had written differently.

Blogs are scary for me because I have no idea who is reading this or how it will be taken. I hope that if you do have a question or even a differing opinion, you will speak up about it. I hope that if you misunderstood me, you will allow me to try to explain it. I want to learn from you (!!!), and maybe even have a real-life discussion instead of just liking each other's Facebook posts! :)

Today I want to talk about the hardest things of all. I know I always talk about the significance of the missing member-of-the-opposite-sex (See The H Word, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera- said in the grumpy voice of my high school Latin teacher), and thankfully that lack in my life has brought me here today, even more aware of my weaknesses.

 Actually, the hardest thing in my life of all is not the lack of a significant other. The hardest thing is the one thousand things that I still try to replace God with. Sometimes it’s obvious, like recently, when a love song made me feel so lonely and unloved, and I wondered why I do not have that kind of love myself… Or how I burst into tears while trying to get A ready for bed, or while taking a quiz, or in the car before work, because I have been trying so very hard to do everything on my own without God’s help and without spending time with Him.

(Run-on sentences are necessary sometimes, guys.)

Sometimes it’s not so obvious, like the pounds that have slowly and steadily crept up on me, or the yucky, sneaky feelings of codependency, resulting in manipulative or hurtful words spoken to someone else. When I care more about what others think than anything else, or when I’m willing to die on the hill that is the least significant thing, or when I find myself in a very frightening place mentally, or even after one too many drinks.

And that's when I wonder, how on earth did I get HERE?

I want to say here, loud and clear, that nothing is ever going to work for us... We can try to fill our lives with a relationship with a guy, food, shopping sprees, physical exercise, working, organizing, friendships, family (all have the potential of being good things until we abuse them), and we can fill them with the “less acceptable” Christian sins such as promiscuity, lust, drinking, drugs etc... I have tried all of these things and more. We can fill our lives with good and bad things, until all we care about is getting more and more and more of them (that good old dopamine release!).

When I saw A running across a field today (well, it was more like speed-trotting over lumpy grass in her red cowgirl boots; it was kind of terrifying to watch), I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter what she does in her life, I will always love her. I do not love her for her actions, I love her for just existing. I think she is adorable, smart, and gifted in ways I cannot even begin to know, but beyond that I think I have a tiny understanding of her worth in each one of these moments of normalcy, as all loving parents must have. Whether she draws me a picture or she disobeys me and runs into the middle of the road, I love her. Whether she has an accident in her Frozen underpants or rubs my back with her tiny hands until I fall asleep, her life is priceless to me (and even more so because I feel like she is what saved me from my darkness). The most difficult thing in my walk with God is trying to wrap my head around the fact that He has ALWAYS loved me as much as I love A, and much more. I do try, and try, and try, and try to paint Him a picture of my actions… “See God, see what I did for you today? Do you love me? Do you think I am beautiful? Do you think I am worth knowing?”

His answer is, “Are you kidding me? I DELIGHT in you! You’re so amazing!  Honey, I loved you when you were still pooping your pants and eating your boogers!”

But seriously, when nothing is working, please join me. I am already on my knees. I have nothing more to give to anyone, not my child, not my coworkers, not clients, not to my school, or friends, without my Heavenly Dad. And I can promise you more often than I have prayed anything else, I have prayed the simple words: “Please God. Please help me just get through today.”

You are not alone. You are not to live in a state of condemnation. You are free. 

These photos were done by Creative Image, Pullman, Washington.

When Dad Is Not There

"Who's dat?"

"The mommy."

"Who's dat?"

"The daddy."

"Who's dat?"

"The kids"

"Where's my daddy?"

So today A asked The Really Hard Question..
I thought she would ask this at age six. That's not very realistic of me, but I was hoping to put it off for awhile until I was better "prepared". I know that some single mamas (as well as those who are children of a single parent) are kind enough to take the time to read this blog, so I just want to take a second and have a real moment: It hurt. Amidst all of  my statements and feelings that God is our father and how we can do hard stuff and I love being A's mom and I'm so supported by my family and community and we'll be okay, of course it's still very hard.
There was about a five-second pause after she asked this that felt like maybe a year. My brain tried to register a few things-- first, that my barely 2-year-old child was capable of understanding that something was missing and is able to vocalize that, and second, was just.. pain in my chest.
I can't describe it better than that. Then I said, "A, who is your daddy?"

"Unca Bian." She said confidently. Honestly, I think she just said this knowing that Brian is Asher's daddy, but I am so glad that she knows how loved she is and that he is a father figure.

This isn't going to be an inspiring, completely well-thought out post but I just want to say...thank you to all the dads out there who are loving the little ones, whether they are related or not, whether they get praise and honor for it, or are simply do it without thanks. Thank you to all the dads who know that they are not enough and ask Christ for help. Thank you to my dad for loving me. Thank you to the famous Unca Bian.
And thank you to all the people who are dealing with the empty space of a missing person in their life, but are walking in faith believing that God is more than enough.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10

That is all.

Monday.

Hello my friends. It's almost been a month.
I'm still learning the meaning of WE CAN DO HARD THINGS, my current favorite saying. It's echoing in my head with each problem that pops up..
This morning I had to laugh (in my head) because I drove to work singing
1) Pippi Longstocking theme song
2) Oats and Beans and Barley Grow (trust me, you don't want this in your head)
3) Baby Beluga
4) Call Me Maybe (COMPLETE with dramatic hand motions.. "Where ya think ya goin' baybay!)

All upon A's request.
I then successfully dropped A off at her babysitter's. I'm ashamed to say that when I saw the beginnings of tears, I pondered aloud on the possibility of her getting a snack and watching Pippi Longstocking at her babysitter's (unheard of) in order to prevent the fountain. (she hasn't seen this babysitter in a few weeks, and she is unfamiliar with their house).
Whilst driving to work, this amazing hip-hoppy Christian song came on complete with rapping, and I was so enthralled of the truth in the song that I started tearing up while simultaneously thinking that some people would probably make fun of it. Too bad. It's amazing.
So then I got to work and gave a informative speech on emergency contraception and the abortion pill to my two victims, faithful coworkers Charlene and Jeannie who are both moms and very supportive and encouraging and listened to me talk for ELEVEN WHOLE MINUTES (the speech was supposed to be 5-7 minutes).
Anyways,

I'm
     Thankful.

Because earlier this week after a really hard day I called Lucy sobbing that I really didn't like A right now, and she told me that it was.... NORMAL. She even gave me examples of normal women who had a normal problem of occasionally normally, not liking their normal child.
Because for the first time I am living from paycheck to paycheck and it's really not that bad because I have everything I need and ten times more support than most people do.
Because it cannot ever be overstated that God still loves you through your (REPETITIVE) mistakes, and He is always, always willing to give you opportunities to learn and grow and have more faith that you did last week.
Because I worked hard for my 85% on my History midterm exam and I am darn proud of it!
Because I gave that speech, and I made it through the hard spots!
Because my boss payed for my awesome haircut! (see below)
Because one hard, tired, yucky day at a time I am proving that single moms CAN do school and work!

In Christ Alone!

The Facing the Music Clique Just Got Real

I'm an extrovert.
There are a hundred things I would like to do. There are a hundred dreams. The last thing on my list is to be real. The last thing on my list is to sit down and have a heart to heart with God.