My First Stitch Fix Review

Have you heard about Stitch Fix?

I first learned about the company two years ago when they were brand-new, but didn’t try their service for the first time until this summer. Basically, Stitch Fix is an online styling service. You fill out an extensive style profile online (sizes, body type, preferred price point, etc.) and a stylist uses that information to put together a personalized box of five clothing and accessory items that ships right to your front door. You pay a $20 flat styling fee each time you have a Fix shipped to you, but that fee is deducted from whatever you decide to keep from the box. When you receive a Fix, you have about three business days to try everything on and decide what you want to keep. If you keep everything in a Fix, you get 25% off the whole box! Whatever you don’t keep you simply slip into a prepaid shipping bag and send back. You can schedule automatic Fixes (as frequently as every two weeks, or as infrequently as a few times a year), or you can just request one whenever you want to. There are no other fees.

The clothing and accessories vary widely in style and price, according to your personal tastes. No two Fixes are identical. They even offer petites and maternity (but no plus sizes yet). You can create a Pinterest board to help your stylist get to know your preferences, and you can leave them notes about what you want, as well as feedback on each Fix you receive. One thing I love about Stitch Fix is the convenience. I like being able to try things on at home and take my time deciding what to keep. Another thing I love is how personal it is. They really take into account your body type, fit preferences, even favorite colors and fabrics. If you are looking for pants for work or a dress for a special event, you can write a note to your stylist and they’ll take it into account. A few of my Stitch Fix friends don’t really like to shop, or don’t have the time, so they love having a stylist choose things for them. I enjoy shopping when I have time and our family as a set monthly clothing budget so I probably won’t get Fixes more than a few times a year, but it’s a fun way to mix things up and a great opportunity to try styles you might not otherwise choose in the store.

Honestly, my first Fix wasn’t great (I didn’t keep anything), but I wasn’t very specific about what I wanted and that seems to be a key to a great Stitch Fix experience. My second Fix, that I’m sharing here, was more on-target. I can tell that Olivia, my stylist this time, really paid attention to my notes and tried to choose items that I’d love. Here’s what she sent:

Everything comes beautifully wrapped and these style cards are included to give you outfit ideas, as well as a personal note from your stylist. I had asked for a pair of shorts, some tops that would be comfortable in the Florida heat, and a summery maxi dress. I didn’t request any accessories this time. Olivia definitely paid attention to my requests and picked up on my obsession with navy, as well as trying to accommodate my love for natural fibers.

Kut from the Kloth Jayme Shorts

These shorts are perfect! They are well-made with just the right amount of stretch, a mid rise, and are a great length for me. I knew right away that I’d be keeping them.

Lavender Brown Silk Tie Neck Blouse

I loved the colors and print in this top, but it was a little short and boxy on me, and it was also 100% silk, which doesn’t exactly suit a work-from-home mom of young kids (not to mention the $98 price tag). I returned this one.

Skies are Blue Cheyne V Neck Top

This top was cotton, which I loved, but it was both too wide and too short on me. Fit is really important to me, so I sent this one back as well.

Loveappella Tarzana Maxi Dress

I wanted to love this dress. The blues, the stripes, the ombré—it’s a beautiful dress. It just didn’t look beautiful on me. So, back it went.

Olive & Oak Pratt Maxi Dress

This dress is similar to a shorter navy and white striped one I have, so I knew right away I probably wouldn’t keep it. The fabric was thick, which I liked, but the top was really big and the straps kept sliding off my shoulders. So I returned this one, too.

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I ended up only keeping the shorts and sending everything else back to Stitch Fix, but I still consider it a successful Fix because I kept something I really needed that fit well and I didn’t blow my budget.

If you want to try Stitch Fix, please use this link to sign up and I will receive credit when your first Fix ships, then share your experience with your friends so you can get credit too! If you do try it, be sure to let me know what you think!

Pooptastrophe: An Update

Remember that post about potty training I wrote more than a year ago? I wish I could say that after I wrote it my son quickly figured out the potty and life has been blissfully diaper-free ever since. I certainly didn’t plan to write about poop on my blog (or anywhere) again. But here I am. I want to share this because I know I’m not the only mom for whom potty training is a remarkable struggle, and if this can help or encourage someone it’s worth it.

After the pooptastrophe messes ended, Lincoln’s potty training status didn’t change for more than a year. I kept buying diapers, and he kept going in them, with the occasional small victory of him peeing in the potty when we could coax him to try. We offered incentives, bought cool underwear, tried bribing with M&Ms and Matchbox cars, but nothing could make him give up his diapers and go on the potty. He flat-out refused to even try pooping on the toilet. (He did poop in the backyard once, but we decided not to encourage that…)

As he passed his third birthday, and then passed 3-1/2 as well, his inner conflict and my frustration grew in tandem. He was old enough to completely understand the situation. He knew he should go on the potty, he knew he should wear big boy underwear like his friends, and a part of him wanted to, but he just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want my frustration to show, so when I ran out of new methods to try, I stopped even asking him about the potty for awhile and just quietly changed his pull-ups. He frequently struggled with constipation from holding it, he would hide from us to poop even though he didn’t need to, and he just seemed miserable.

Finally, two weeks ago, we got truly desperate. His fourth birthday was coming. School was starting in a month and he had to be potty trained to attend Pre-K. The diapers had to go. So my husband and I resolved to get rid of pull-ups, except at night, and just wash a lot of underwear and gently encourage him to use the toilet until something finally changed. We knew it could take a long time, and we even knew he might not be ready in time to go to preschool, and we were okay with that.

The first day of our new plan was so hard. Actually, the entire first week was hard. He peed on the potty without a problem, but he also pooped in his underwear in tiny increments constantly throughout the day. One day I helped him change his underwear 12 times. We had a special bucket in the utility sink for soaking dirty underwear. It was gross. And nothing seemed to change, except that I now had to stop what we were doing every 15 minutes to do an “undie check.” But after a week, things did start to change, almost indiscernibly. Lincoln would sit longer on the toilet (while we read to him) and I could tell he was really trying not to poop in his underwear. But I didn’t want him to get constipated again or make himself sick from holding it. My friend Heather suggested letting him watch or play something on the iPad while sitting on the toilet, and I resisted the idea. We only allow our kids very limited iPad time, and it also just felt kind-of gross to hand electronics to my son on the toilet, but I finally decided to try it. (Something this whole process taught me is humility and willingness to try a lot of things because you never know what will finally work!)

The day I tried it was the day before his fourth birthday. We had just gotten home from a frustrating morning at the dentist and all I was really thinking about was getting lunch in our bellies. It had been days since Lincoln’s last bowel movement and I could tell that he had been holding it all morning. I told him if he sat on the potty, he could play his favorite iPad game while he was sitting and trying to go. When I checked on him five minutes later, he had gone pee and poop in the toilet and was still nonchalantly sitting there, playing his game. He hasn’t had an accident since. After nearly two years of struggling, a silly iPad game was what it took to relax him enough to go, and when he finally went his fear was gone.

A few of the major things I learned through this entire process:

1. Everyone says it, but it’s true: wait until they’re ready. And by ready, I mean practically begging you to let them use the toilet. If you feel desperate and you just want to be done with diapers so you think about trying out a potty training bootcamp with your child who has shown no interest in it, don’t do it. Just don’t.
2. Gauge and know your child. This also probably goes without saying, but every kid handles this differently. They all approach it with different hang-ups. Be sensitive to those things. Will they respond better to a slow, gradual process, or a two-day all-or-nothing approach? Are they willful, or genuinely scared of something? Do they learn by example, by reading a book with you and talking a lot about it, or just trying it themselves? Don’t assume that your strong-willed child will be difficult to potty train, or that the laid-back baby of the family will be a breeze because they’ve watched their older siblings.
3. Never shame them. Shame and the bathroom should never go together. Despite the frustration we sometimes felt with Lincoln during this process, we tried never to show it. Instead of sighing and complaining or berating him every time he went in his diaper, we tried to say things like, “Next time maybe you can go on the potty like a big boy.” I said that daily for almost two years; eventually, it happened.
4. It’s not about you. Whenever I make one of my kid’s milestones or accomplishments more about me than about them, things go terribly wrong. When it’s more about my convenience and not wanting to change diapers anymore than it is about my child’s comfort and readiness, I need to realign my priorities.
5. Gather allies. I was given a wealth of encouragement (and advice, when asked) from fellow moms. I confided in Lincoln’s teachers at church so they knew the situation. I never realized how common and varied potty training struggles are until I confided in other moms and heard their stories. So often we try to gloss over our parenting struggles because we’re embarrassed, but then we end up struggling alone and we miss out on the great encouragement that can be found in simply saying, “Me too. I’m going through that too. You’re not alone.”

Cyprus

I have been home for nearly two weeks from a short-term mission trip to Cyprus with a team from my church via International Messengers. I’ve struggled to share my experiences with the few who have asked about them so far, because trying to explain this trip is like trying to summarize a beautifully written novel. The summary does not do it justice—not even close—and I really just want to say, “Read the book.”

Also, my re-entry to real life has been bumpy. Jet lag was a lingering fog, my children punished me unwittingly with a week of whining and squabbling as they readjusted to my presence, and we opened our front yard to our church’s Summer Blast VBS each evening the first week I was home (which was the best part by far of that rough week). I was so overwhelmed that I had no time to process everything that had just happened. I hit brick walls in every direction and am just now getting my bearings back.

But what God did in Cyprus through the broken vessel of our team was rich. Humbling. Miraculous. And I will attempt to overshare glimpses of it here.

Cyprus houses thousands of refugees. Its location and neutrality attract African and Middle Eastern people fleeing from turmoil in their home countries. Many of the refugees who reach Cyprus have dreams of making a home in Europe, Canada, or the U.S., but they get stuck in the quicksand of bureaucracy and often end up staying in Cyprus much longer than they anticipated, or even indefinitely. The job market in Cyprus is oversaturated, so few of them find work, and they struggle with a life in limbo. They cannot go back home (they would be imprisoned or killed), they cannot work and make a permanent life in Cyprus, and so they wait—for years, usually—for a call from the Cyprus government to even begin the process necessary to move somewhere else. And as they wait, many EU nations are closing their doors to refugees and immigrants, and the Cyprus government and economy become increasingly bogged down by the weight of it all. Hope is scarce in this community of precious people. But hope is exactly what we wanted to hold out to them. To say I felt inadequate for this is the understatement of a lifetime. I trembled under the weight of insufficiency, coming from my cushy life that is rich in comfort and starved of suffering, to lift their burdens and offer encouragement, practical help, lasting hope. “… Who is sufficient for these things?” (2 Cor. 2:16).

About 40 Arabic-speaking refugees were selected to spend a week with us at a hotel complex outside Larnaca for an English Language Camp. They ranged in age from toddler to middle age and many came as a family. The English camp was our vehicle because it offers help with a practical skill—learning conversational English is helpful now because it’s widely spoken in Cyprus, and helpful later if and when they settle in a Western nation. But a camp like this also invites meaningful conversation and relationship-building. We all stayed at the same facility, sweat together in the heat, tried to sing in each other’s languages. We ate together and learned to converse in broken phrases, shrugs, smiles, and lots of wild gestures. It’s amazing the friendships that can be forged like that in a week.

There were three small group classes each day, as well as large group gatherings, evening crafts, free time for the kids to enjoy the pool, and plenty of time for casual conversation when the sun finally disappeared and it was cool enough to be outdoors. The culture both of Cyprus and of the Arabic-speakers at our camp comes alive at night. I was struck by how the homes in Cyprus don’t have grassy yards, but rather a tiled courtyard with outdoor seating and flowers and lights in front of each home. In the cool of the evening everyone sits outside, talking and smoking and eating. Some of the coffee shops in the area didn’t open until 4:00 in the afternoon, because that’s when social living begins. It was that way at the camp, too. Craft time started at 9:30, with ladies (sometimes men) and kids lingering over beaded bracelets or fingernail polish until midnight. Some of the week’s richest conversations took place in the late night around tables in the courtyard when the breezes were cool and defenses were lowered. I often thought of home, with our neat front laws, expansive and private backyards, and closed doors. What would it look like for us to fling wide those doors? Knock down those fences, both figurative and literal? To value community over privacy and neatness?

My favorite part of the week by far, as I’ve shared with some, was the English Reading class each day. God saw fit to place me in a group with five truly remarkable women from Egypt and Syria. My translator was a gifted young woman I am now privileged to call my friend. She and I worked beautifully in tandem all week and I came out looking like a much better teacher than I actually am because of her.

Our text for English Reading was the New Testament. Our campers came from a variety of religious backgrounds but they all knew the Bible would be a part of our curriculum for the week. Each class had a different dynamic, different flow, and unique discussion. The time I had with my ladies was that of rich discipleship. These women had backgrounds in nominal Islam or Coptic Christianity but had put their trust in Jesus as their Savior at some point, and were hungry to know more. We wept together as we read the powerful words of Christ in the gospels, and prayed for the concerns that weighed on our hearts. They asked me in-depth questions about sin, justification, the role of the Holy Spirit, and the power of grace, once even finding me after class to ask more questions. We went through the Gospel step by step on the final day of camp and just soaked in its potent truth: the weight of our sin vs. a holy God, the perfect sacrifice of Christ, his righteousness covering our shame, immeasurable grace to us—the utterly undeserving, the eternal hope we have in him. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a more precious time of Christian fellowship.

I also got a taste of the joy of teaching the building blocks of ESL in my English class each afternoon. Verb tenses, body part names, articles of clothing, and a field trip to the supermarket to learn directions—turn right, turn left, cross the street, go straight—and name grocery items (including the ice cream cones we licked on the way home). Helping someone understand a new language is truly a beautiful process.

I wish I could share the names and detailed stories of each camper I met and befriended, but their safety depends on their anonymity and the discretion of our team. This means I can’t share names or photos of them here, but I would ask you to pray for them anyway. They have all suffered, all lost family and homes and possessions, have all been displaced, are all dependent on a wobbly government system, are all waiting waiting waiting. But now, they have all heard about the love of God, of his mercy, forgiveness, grace, and the hope we can have in him that can never be taken from us. Some believe and have found unsurpassed peace, some are questioning and unsure, but all have heard. We were able to send an English/Arabic Bible home with each family that wanted one, and our host missionaries will further the work that was begun. There is already talk of two English camps in Cyprus next year.

Thank you so much to everyone who supported me, who prayed, who loved on my husband and kids while I was away. It’s remarkable that I was even able to go to Cyprus at all. But support came at just the right time, in just the right amount, my team and I felt lifted in prayer throughout the trip, and my husband survived two weeks at home with our kids and pets with a great attitude. God was gracious to us all. To him be all glory.

Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookies

I’m picky about cookies. They can’t be hard and crunchy; they can’t be too soft and gooey. Not too flat and spread out, but not too dense.

Baking perfect cookies, for me, has become a combination of careful measuring and method, and of finding the perfect recipe. This has been my favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe for years (I’m not sure of its origin or I’d give credit where credit is certainly due), because it has a secret ingredient that yields that perfect combination of caramelization on the outside and softness on the inside, which to me is perfection in cookie form.

I finally decided to share the recipe because my childhood best friend is a very talented food photographer and I finally got smart enough to ask her to bake and photograph these beauties so you all can drool a little on your phone or keyboard and then make a batch for yourself.

A few tips that help these (and other cookie recipes) to turn out well:

• Use softened butter (not melted) and I personally like to use half salted and half unsalted.
• Measure carefully. When I cook, I measure by pinches and palmfuls and dabs, but when I bake I use measuring cups and spoons and level off the tops with a knife.
• Let the dough chill. This isn’t necessary, especially for these cookies, but if you’re patient enough to do it the cookies become even more caramelized on the outside when you bake them. Plus, if the dough is in the fridge you can just bake a few cookies at a time (if you have the self-control that I lack).

• Servings: approximately 3 dozen cookies
• Print

Ingredients:

• 2–1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1 cup (2 sticks) softened butter
• 3/4 cup brown sugar
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 1 package (3.4 oz) instant french vanilla pudding mix (or chocolate pudding, if you want them extra chocolatey like the cookies pictured!)
• 2 eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 package chocolate chips (Tollhouse dark chocolate chips are my favorite)

Directions:

In a small bowl, combine the flour and baking soda with a wire whisk and then set aside. Using an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugars together until fluffy. Add the pudding mix until combined, then the eggs and vanilla, scraping the sides of the bowl when necessary. Gradually add the flour mixture just until combined, then stir in the chocolate chips by hand. Cover the bowl and let the dough chill in the fridge for one hour, or up to four days. When you’re ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 degrees and let the bowl sit out on the cover while the oven preheats. Drop the dough by rounded tablespoonfuls onto an ungreased cookie sheet and bake for 10-12 minutes, or until lightly browned on the outside. Cool for two minutes before removing  from the pan to cool completely on a rack. These are best if eaten the same day. If they’re stored in a covered container they lose their crispiness on the outside.

Photo credit: Cyona Harrison

My 2015 Reading List

I know, it’s February and I’m just now posting my reading list for this year. But February can be a month when some of those New Year’s resolutions begin to shake and crumble a bit, so if that’s you, maybe this will inspire you to steady on. Or if reading had no part in your 2015 resolutions, maybe I can inspire you to pick up just one of these books this year with me?

I love to read. I always have. But my reading tastes remained pretty fluffy until college. I did slog through The Grapes of Wrath and a few other classics in high school, but I missed a lot of them somehow. And the most sophisticated author I had read for pleasure by the time I started college was John Grisham. So I’ve had a lot of catching up to do. Since college I’ve had a goal to read at least a few classics every year, and it’s also a continuous goal of mine to read more nonfiction. Because I love fiction. Or, I should say, I love good fiction. I let myself be a snob about it.

I’ve never compiled a reading list for the upcoming year, so I thought it would be fun to try for 2015. I didn’t read nearly enough books last year (because it can be tough when you have little ones) so I’m setting a realistic goal: 12 books. One per month on average. I know I’ll exceed it, but I want to make sure I knock some specific books off my list this year, so here goes:

Prayer, by Timothy Keller

Our church small group just started this book, so I’m already not reading it alone. I’ve never read a book by Keller, a pastor in Manhattan, but quotes and tidbits by him keep seeming to pop up everywhere, so I’m excited to delve into this book on a topic that I crave to know more about.

Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis

I think this one counts as a classic, too, right? I’d eventually like to read all of Lewis’s works. I hadn’t even read the Narnia series when Ben and I got married. Can you believe that? My sweet husband quickly remedied that by buying me a beautiful illustrated all-in-one volume and I devoured it. I can’t wait to read them with my kids. I just started reading Mere Christianity and I am captivated already.

Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand

I’m really excited about this classic novel. It’s been on my reading list (and my physical bookshelf) for a long time. This is the year I’m going to tackle it. I haven’t read anything this long since Anna Karenina in 2010. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this one even more.

Everyone’s a Theologian: An Introduction to Systematic Theology, by R.C. Sproul

I had a hard time deciding between this book and Grudem’s Systematic Theology. But I suspect this one will be a little easier to read outside of a classroom setting, and will give me the introduction I’m looking for while I’m still deciding where to go to grad school (or seminary?).

The Boston Girl, by Anita Diamant

I loved this author’s debut novel—it’s still one of my favorites—and her works since have been pretty good, so I’m looking forward to reading her newest book.

Life Together, by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Another Christian classic I’ve never read and am looking forward to reading. It’s been officially on my list ever since Deeply Rooted Magazine published a review of it last year.

Suffering and the Sovereignty of God, by John Piper, et. al.

This is a compilation by John Piper and a number of other evangelical writers who have written about this topic in the midst of personal suffering. It’s an issue I have been thinking, wrestling, and searching Scripture about a lot lately.

Give them Grace: Dazzling Your Kids with the Love of Jesus, by Elyse M. Fitzpatrick and Jessica Thompson

I always feel a little wary when I pick up a parenting book. Is that bad? I think it’s because I’ve read a lot of poor ones (or poorly written) and few of them have felt applicable to the situations I’ve faced. I’m hopeful about this one, though. My aim is not to raise good, moral kids. It is to raise kids who have been captivated by the love and grace of Jesus, with their actions flowing from that. I’m hoping this book will speak to that.

Boulevard Women, by Lauren Cobb

Cobb was one of my writing professors in college, and my advisor. She is probably the person who has had the single greatest impact on my development as a writer, to date. I cannot wait to read this collection of short stories she wrote. It’s one of those books that you know will be good, really good, before you even begin reading, just because of what you know of the author.

And the Mountains Echoed, by Khaled Hosseini

I loved his first two books. Loved them. I read A Thousand Splendid Suns in one glorious sitting. I’ve heard from many people that this one is disappointing, but I need to see for myself.

Flight Behavior, by Barbara Kingsolver

I think I’ve read all of Kingsolver’s books, except this newest one. Her worldview seems to be different than mine in a number of ways, but she is a talented writer and I look forward to each of her new books. I actually enjoy reading books by authors who approach life differently than I do. It sharpens my mind and even hones my beliefs and opinions, uprooting some and strengthening others.

Women of the Word: How to Study the Bible with both Our Hearts and Our Minds, by Jen Wilkin

This makes the list per the recommendation of my new friend, coworker, and fellow blogger, Théa. Her blog, Little Book, Big Story, is an excellent resource, especially if you’re looking for good reads for your kids. And I am looking forward to this book because I have definitely come to realize lately the importance of reading and studying God’s Word for oneself, not just reading devotional books about it, or hearing bits of it from the pulpit on Sunday, or making judgments about it without really reading it or studying it in context. In the spirit of that realization, I’m following the “Bible in a Year” reading plan by She Reads Truth, and I love it. I’m using the app, and it makes following and tracking my reading much more manageable. They offer a lot of shorter reading plans, too. I just wanted to challenge myself to read through the entire Bible this year. I’m only two days behind right now! Ha.

I’d also like to mention two of the books I did read in 2014, that I especially enjoyed and highly recommend. I hope I’ll have many more recommendations after this year.

Forgiving our Fathers and Mothers: Finding Freedom From Hurt and Hate, by Leslie Leyland Fields

I’ve had the privilege of knowing Leslie for several years because of my family’s time living in Kodiak, Alaska. She is wise and kind, and a wonderful writer. She sent me this copy of her newest book last year and it is excellent. Though I was not wounded by my parents, the message of forgiveness Leslie brings in this book is incredible, and invaluable for every person. We forgive, because we have been unfathomably forgiven by God through Christ. That is a reminder we all need.

The Glass Castle, by Jeanette Walls

This is probably the best memoir I’ve ever read. It reads like a novel, and it’s amazing (and horrifying). Even Ben liked it. I read her other books after reading this one, but this is by far her best.

Please write to me and let me know if you have read, or plan to read, any of these books this year, or if you have any recommendations for my next reading list! Happy page-turning.

Dear Lucy:

You turned six this week. Or, as you put it, “Now I need two hands to show how old I am!”

This has been a big year for you, with lots of firsts and milestones: first sleepover, first extracurricular (track club!), first time sounding out words and adding numbers on paper, going to kindergarten, learning to read, riding your bike without training wheels, memorizing your first Bible verse, and most importantly: inviting Jesus into your life.

I’ve half-joked that I have spent more time on my knees in desperate prayer to God since you were born than any other time in my life. It’s true. You were a difficult toddler and preschooler—easily frustrated and overwhelmed, a strong-willed tantrum-thrower. So many times I’ve felt like I’m failing you as a mom. But God has used your precious life, sweet Lucy, to teach me that it’s not so much about me being a great mom as it is about trusting our great God. That your life is in his hands and you are just on loan to me. Even when your daddy and I fail, your Heavenly Father does not.

And now, as you grow in the understanding of what it means to follow Jesus, I see those traits I’ve prayed for start to blossom: compassion, forgiveness, kindness, thoughtfulness, and self-control, among others. You are still quirky, and everyone who knows you loves that about you, but I am amazed as I watch these fruits of the spirit begin to show in your life.

Your two best friends at school come from dysfunctional homes. One has hearing aids and the other barely speaks and is a year behind everyone else in your class academically, but you haven’t noticed any of that. They are girls no one else has bothered with, but here you are loving and befriending them.

The very first thing you did on the morning of your birthday, bright and early at 6 a.m.? Present me with a card you had made, thanking Daddy and me for the balloons we’d sneaked into your room while you were sleeping. It is a special girl indeed who begins her birthday by thanking others. I’ve lost count of the number of cards and pictures you’ve made for people this year. Always your own idea, always created with care and detail, you constantly bless everyone around you with your beautiful artwork.

Daddy and I are so proud of the big girl you are becoming, and Lincoln admires his big sister to no end. I can’t wait to see how you keep growing this year, sweet girl! Happy Birthday Lucy.

Love, Mama

There is no “Fun” in Fungus

Did you know ringworm is not actually a worm, but a fungus?

I didn’t, until last week.

I mentioned in a previous post that we adopted a rescue pup and rescue kitten for a family Christmas gift. They are incredibly sweet animals, with the best personalities. But Beedo, our kitten, brought a little fungal surprise home with him from the kill shelter he was rescued from. Ringworm. And one long, trying month is stretching into two. Erroneous tests at the vet office led us to believe little Beedo was just suffering from unexplainable patches of dry skin. But then this weekend, I found a telltale rash of red circles down Lucy’s hairline and around her neck. Exactly where she most loves to snuggle her beloved new kitty.

Now, five days later, Lucy has been exiled from school, our cat and pup are both enduring putrid lime sulfur baths and more tests at the vet to rid them of the fungus, and just last night we found a spot on the back of Lincoln’s arm. Ben and I are the only ones still free of it. I look around my home and wonder where else it could be lurking.

“Discouraged” does not even begin to describe how I’ve felt this week. Ringworm deals a direct blow to two of my great struggles: pride and control. Pride, because it is humiliating to hide from the world in a self-inflicted quarantine, warning all who come near not to touch our animals, our skin, or anything for that matter. It is humiliating to have the school call and accuse, “Did you know your daughter has ringworm?” and demand she be immediately picked up even though she’s not contagious anymore. And control, because fungal spores spread everywhere and live a ridiculously long life, and no matter how much you scrub and wash and slather cream to skin and bleach to floors, it lives on until everyone is cured and every invisible trace is somehow removed.

Add this to the roof that still leaks and my husband’s car that won’t start unless he jiggles a few wires, and Lucy’s birthday tomorrow while her face is still covered in fading red rings. Ben and I keep looking at each other and shaking our heads. We take turns losing it (I’ve taken way more turns than he has!) and just keep plunking down money from our IRA to fix the leak, fix the car, fix the fungus.

Yes, I’m discouraged. So so so discouraged. But I’m also thankful. Because if I can’t be thankful, I’ll never crawl out of this hole. I’m grateful for:

1. A God who is surprised by nothing and works everything for good
2. Loved ones who bear our burdens, pray, and speak truth into our lives when we lose perspective
3. Resilient children
4. My husband, who has been a rock through this and who manages our money so well that this hasn’t completely ruined us

For any of you reading this who are also fighting weariness and discouragement, these words of Jesus are my prayer for you: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30 NIV)

When December Ends

From my desk this morning I can hear the sound of the steady rain outside.

I can also hear the steady plop of drops filling the bucket below the leaky spot in our ceiling.

Last month was one long leaky roof for me. I had dreamed of a beautiful December this year—Advent-focused, contemplative, celebratory—enjoying my family and our Christ-centered Christmas. My husband and I even planned the ultimate Christmas surprise for our kids: a puppy and a kitten. It was going to be unforgettable.

But reality looked more like this: two back-to-back colds, frenzied photo editing for clients’ Christmas cards, sugar-charged kids with no interest in gorgeous Advent readings, an attempted ceiling repair that revealed the leak and extensive water damage, a sweet kitten who, after one day with us, developed a wheeze warranting antibiotics and scaly patches of skin warranting extensive expensive tests at the vet (still no results), and a sweet puppy who now runs our lives with his potty needs. Our house is sectioned off with couch cushions to keep the dog in the main living area and several times a day I break up physical fights between my children over who gets to hold the kitty. One of our vehicles is in serious need of repair. I am way behind on work. My house is filthy. This morning I was awakened by loud arguing child-screams and a puppy who needed to pee but didn’t want to go out in the rain.

I have that wild-eyed What Happened? What have we done? feeling about December. It was a blur, completely out of focus. Not because of shopping or holiday parties or baking, but because of a messy life. I’m fighting disappointment and discouragement (and the urge to give the dog back up for adoption). And I know I’m not the only one. Hand Foot and Mouth Virus stuck its nasty tentacles into our church nursery and several of my friends have been quarantined at home with their little ones and their sore-spotted skin. Other friends in chillier parts of the country are already wondering how they are going to keep their kids occupied indoors with everyone’s sanity intact until the weather finally warms in April (or May or June).

But take heart, dear friends. Just wait. December didn’t last. Winter won’t last. And when it feels like it will, lean into your husband or a friend who will remind you that it won’t. That the sores will heal and the roof will be fixed (though mine still isn’t).

And really, isn’t that Advent? Advent isn’t beautiful, perfect, softly-lit, hot-chocolatey kind of waiting. It’s agony. It’s heart-wrenching, groaning kind of waiting. Because if it was perfect in our waiting, what would we be waiting for?

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Romans 8:18–25 ESV)

Over at the DRM Blog…

I wrote a Thanksgiving piece for the Deeply Rooted Magazine blog last week. It was a last-minute request in the midst of a busy week, but turned out to be exactly what I needed amidst the flurry of activity, to reflect on the true source of our thanks. Lincoln and his artwork make a guest appearance in the post, so check it out!

And now, this beautiful season of Advent—glorious longing and expectation. Come, thou long expected Jesus!

Over at the DRM Blog…

I wrote a Thanksgiving piece for the Deeply Rooted Magazine blog last week. It was a last-minute request in the midst of a busy week, but turned out to be exactly what I needed amidst the flurry of activity, to reflect on the true source of our thanks. Lincoln and his artwork make a guest appearance in the post, so check it out!

And now, this beautiful season of Advent—glorious longing and expectation. Come, thou long expected Jesus!