Unsafe Relationship

When Matt and I first met, I didn't want to date him.

I mean, I liked him..........but I didn't want to date him.

He was too friendly and nice to everybody.

I worried that if I dated someone as nice as him, then I would always be worried about who he was talking to and the fact that he had this innate ability to make others feel special. I didn't want to be with someone who made others feel special, because well, that might make my insecurities flare up.

He was also too good-looking.

I had this silly theory that girls needed to date guys that were not as attractive because if the guy had a girl who was cuter than him, then he would never have wandering eyes or want to stray. I didn't want to be with someone who was as good-looking as he is, because well, that might make my insecurities flare up.

I harbored these beliefs from a position of hurt and fear.

So what does God do?

He causes me to fall in love with an incredibly kind, out-going, goofy, talented, and handsome man.

I used to say that Matt was more of a man than I ever thought I would end up with.....and that's true.

He was better, kinder, sweeter, and cuter than the men I had known or dated.

He was more....so much more.....than I would have settled for.

Fortunately, God had other things in mind for me. He had more for me than I would have chosen for myself.

Our pastor talked a couple weeks back about not settling for an Ishmael when God has an Isaac for you......

Yeah, this was like that.

The way that I saw things through my distorted hurt-and-fear-glasses, I wanted something - someone - safe.

I wanted someone nice enough, cute enough, sweet enough.

God wanted to give me more than just enough. 

I wanted someone who had a clean romantic past so that I never  had to deal with my insecurities about others who had once held his attention and heart.

God wanted to help me face my insecurities so that I could overcome them.

I wanted someone who could probably not do any better than me so that I would feel less vulnerable in the relationship.

God wanted me to become softened and more trusting through my vulnerability. 

I am a rule following bore sometimes. If I stay within certain borders, then I think that things will be nice and neat. I most often want what is safe. Safe. Safe. Safe.

But God draws me towards that which is not safe so that I can better learn how to lean upon Him. He never designed me to live within safe confines, but for great adventure.

Romans 8:15-16 - "This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike, 'What's next, Papa?' God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who He is and we know who we are: Father and children."

As that trust grows, so does the deep well from which He continues to meet my needs.

Philippians 4:19 - "You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus."

Matt was more than I would have dared ask God for, and as we continue to perfect the dance of our relationship, I continue to be amazed at God's mercy in drawing us together.

God can be trusted and His gifts are far better than anything we would choose for ourselves.

Ugh.....He is just so beautiful.

My cup overflows.

"Love, Mom"

My mom always made Christmas magical.

Not like Santa and flying reindeer magical.......

....but just super, super special.

Back when I was a little girl, I had no idea just how hard she worked to make it all happen.

She saved all year long in order to be able to buy us just the right things at Christmastime. Each gift was wrapped impeccably and had a different personalized tag on it: For "Gretchie-Ketchie-Netchie-Setchie-Betchie-Detchie" or "Grrrr-Nin" or "Gretchen Noelle".

"Love, Mom".

But it really wasn't about the gifts, even then. They were simply the icing on a Christmas-flavored cake (what does Christmas taste like, you say? Mint.....and egg nog......and love).

It was about the traditions that she birthed and fostered and tended every year. It was about all being together. It was about listening to Christmas music and reading Luke 2 as a family and eating caramel rolls in the morning. It was about taking turns opening gifts so we wouldn't miss anything and playing games and putting on plays about the nativity story.

Mom handmade each of our stockings, delighted in getting us matching pajamas, and made 5 different kinds of cookies every year because, well, we each had our own kind that we would sit and make with her of course! If baking cookies meant quality time with mom, we were there. 

Being the youngest child, the older I got, the further away my older siblings moved. However, nearly every year without fail, they each returned home. Christmas was our time to be together. So a house that had been quiet burst with joyful noise. The driveway filled up. The table became crowded. There wasn't a chance of getting to watch what you wanted on TV. It took about 2 days for all of us to start getting on each other's nerves............but wow, those first 2 days were pure bliss!

This year as my own little family was decorating for Christmas, it hit me that this is the first year that Finn kind of "gets it". He loves anything to do with Christmas. He loves any movie with a Santa in it, wants our tree lit at all times, he lets out gasps of delight at seeing lights on others' houses, and He even calls snow "Christmas". 

He also is beginning to know who Jesus is because we talk about how Jesus is with him at all times. Christmas isn't Christmas without Jesus. 

With his new awareness, I feel a certain kind of pressure, a good pressure, to not only make Christmas special and memorable for my boys, but to also keep the discussion central on Jesus. 

Because Jesus is cooler than Santa. 

As much FUN as Christmas is, THIS is the time to begin teaching them:

"In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God, 

did not consider equality with God as something to be used to his own advantage;

rather he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, 

being made in human likeness. 

And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death

 - even death on a cross!

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and 

gave him the name that is above every name, 

that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,

 in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 

and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, 

to the glory of God the Father."

- Philippians 2:5-11

My sweet, squishy boys: this is the most important thing that I could ever teach you. 

Love, Mom. 

Christianese

I was born into a Christian family who literally lived at the church for the first few formative years of my life. If there was a service, we were there. If a member of our family was sick, we went anyway. We were often one of the first to arrive and most often the last to leave.

I have known God my whole life.

And except for a few rogue years in middle school, I have tried my best to be my best for Him.

I first asked Jesus into my heart when I was really little (like, so little that I don't remember).
I was baptized at the age of 7.
And I recommitted my life to God at the age of 14, sitting in the driveway with my mom.

My high school life consisted of hanging out with my youth group and a close circle of Christian friends at school.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was wrestling hard with a judgmental spirit and a haughty attitude. I criticized others and puffed myself up for being a Christian.

My identity was not in Christ but in being a Christian.

All the while, what I thought was living righteously for God was actually breaking His heart.

I was raised in a Christian culture and I thrived. It was my niche and my Michael W. Smith serenaded "place in this world".

Recently I have watched a few videos about "Stuff Christians Say". There are several variations to these and I have to laugh when I watch them because, well, they're true.

There is a certain language, a "Christianese", that people speak when they grow up in church.

We talk about accountability and boundaries and blessing and kissing dating goodbye. These things roll off our tongues without much thought sometimes.

I know I am guilty of it.

For example, I used to be obsessed with the word secular.

In high school I sold a bunch of my cd's and movies because they were too "secular" and I felt convicted about them after a youth convention.

And I don't think it was wrong. I was trying my best to honor God, but I was doing it almost as much because it was the "good Christian" and "cool" thing to do. I was super Christian, after all.

But because my motives weren't entirely authentic, I eventually started listening to secular music again and watching those movies again.

Sidenote: I am not saying this to condemn secular music or to say that there isn't merit to listening to and acting on the sermons we hear; I am simply talking about my own experience.

Now, I don't listen to secular music because I honestly don't want to. There are songs (yes, heaven help me, even Miley Cyrus songs) that I like when I catch them on the radio. But I really just love worship music. It's what I want to listen to, it's what I want playing in my home and my car.

For me, the lasting change came about not because I heard a sermon once and felt convicted into obeying. It didn't come from an external source.

The lasting change came from the inside. It developed in my spirit, from an intimacy with God and therefore was absolutely natural and right for me.

Romans 14:22-23: "Cultivate your relationship with God, but don't impose it on others. You're fortunate if your behavior and your belief are coherent. But if you're not sure, if you notice that you are acting in ways that are inconsistent with what you believe - some days trying to impose your opinions on others, other days just trying to please them, then you know that you're out of line. If the way you live isn't consistent with what you believe, then it's wrong."

I guess what I am trying to say and why I am even writing about all of this...........is out of gratitude.

It is easy to simply exist in a culture, but I am just so stinking thankful that God didn't leave me in my judgmental, ignorantly striving, well-meaning state.

He allowed me the grace and room to learn what it really means to be a Christian: not pointing the finger but opening the arms; not hoarding 'experiences' but sharing the wealth; not only socializing with other Christians but reaching out to where the need is; not blindly obeying an authority figure but following the leading of the Holy Spirit within me.

Romans 12:9: "Love from the center of who you are, don't fake it."

Rescue

Confession:

Sometimes I let Jonas cry because I think he has THE cutest baby crying face. Ever.

Now I never let him wail or scream when something is really wrong. I'm not a monster :) .

But sometimes, when he is just starting to want something, I let it linger. So he puffs out his lower lip. Then he timidly starts to whimper a bit. Then his face starts changing and his cries get louder.

Sometimes I just like to watch him. Sometimes I let him cry a bit.

Sometimes, I even take photos so that I can document his exceptional sad face for posterity:

Just getting started

I said "NOW!"

Not so happy

Oh squisher

I could really eat him up

Finn mastering the sad face

The calm after the storm

It's not because I don't love him. On the contrary, I love him SO much that even his sad faces are nothing but adorable to me.

And it's not because I can't rescue him. I can.....but I know that he will be okay in his sadness for a bit before I pick him up and comfort him.

It's also not because I don't want to help him. At these times that I am delaying his rescue just a bit, I still long to pick him up and give him what he is seeking: food or rest or a clean diaper.

I do not always save him from his baby hardships when he wants to be saved. I see a bigger picture than he does and I know that he will be okay.

So it is with God and us.

Now, God's reasons for not rescuing us on our timetables are much more mighty and intimate than any reason of mine for not picking up my son the moment he begins to fuss.

But it is the same idea. Because God sees a bigger picture, He knows that we will be okay in our fuss while we await his rescue from any current situation.

He doesn't not rescue us because He doesn't love us, or because He can't rescue us, or because He doesn't want to.

On the contrary, He DOES love us and He CAN rescue us and He does WANT to.

He simply sees a bigger picture and knows that we can wait until the right time, when He can receive the most glory for His good pleasure.

"Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him." - Isaiah 30:18

I think though, that there is another reason that I love my son's sad face - besides its utter adorability.

My son's sad face serves as a reminder that he desperately needs me.

Likewise, our grievances, fusses, and pains are a reminder that we desperately need God.

He alone can pick us up and provide the comfort and rescue that fulfills. Though we may have to wait for it and it might not come at the exact moment we want it to...........it will come.

On His time, not ours. In His way, not ours.

So in those moments when we feel all alone in our sadnesses, we can still trust in His rescue. In every cry of loss or pain, we can take heart and know that those are only a reminder that we still need Him and His rescue is imminent.

He is with us, He hears us, He loves us, He will rescue us.

Mostly Stay-at-Home Mommy

Welp, tomorrow I officially become a working mommy!

I begin my first post-masters job, my first job where I hold the title of "Counselor".

Excitement ensues!

I am so very thankful that God blessed me with a job where I can work 5-10 hours a week as a counselor, yet still be mostly a stay-at-home mommy to our two amazing boys.

Which is crazy, because I never ever saw myself as the stay-at-home mommy type.

When I was in my lower twenties and would think about having kids, I would find myself thinking that  having kids would be much more suitable for me if I could bypass the baby, toddler, and preschool stages. School age kids were my forte, my niche. I wanted the freedom to send them to school and out to play with their friends. I did not want the responsibility of a little person shadow.

I wanted to work. I wanted to send my kids to daycare and school. I wanted my independence.

Even when I was a little girl, I only kind of sort of enjoyed playing with dolls. I much preferred playing with Barbies because I could pick out super cute outfits, style their hair, and take them to lavish parties. Or if no Barbie threw a party that weekend, the mall.

My Cabbage Patch dolls, meanwhile, hung around - mostly neglected - in the corner of my room.

I was not exactly a nurturer.

But then I got pregnant. And the thought of going back to work full time sort of made me want to vomit.

So Matt and I talked about it. He wanted me to stay home. I wanted to stay home. We cut way back on the way we lived to make it work.

God has provided every single step of the way. Now that we have two boys at home, God provides in even more amazing ways.

He is faithful.

I am so grateful that being a mostly stay-at-home mom is even an option for us. I realize that there are many mommies who do not have the choice but who have the decision made for them by a myriad of circumstances.

I know that while I am working, I will miss my two scrunchy ones at home. I will wonder what they are playing with, what they are laughing at, and why they might be crying.

But I also know that I will be doing good work. I will be giving support to other kids who really need it. I will be spilling forth from the overflow of love in my life.

As a pre-freaky Miley Cyrus once sang, it will be "the best of both worlds"!!

I will get a taste of being that working mommy that I always assumed I would be.

A taste is enough.

As much as I enjoy leaving the house without a diaper bag and car seat in tow, I really really love driving home to my adorable ones. And walking through the door at home?

Whew. Nothing like it.

Wild Rumpus

"And when he came to the place where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars and 

gnashed their terrible teeth and 

rolled their terrible eyes and 

showed their terrible claws till 

Max said "BE STILL!" and 

tamed them with the magic trick of staring into 

all their yellow eyes without blinking once and 

they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all..." 

- Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak

We have been dealing with a most formidable foe at the Fjerkenstad household the last few weeks:

Fear.

For the first time, Finn has been truly fearful of certain things. Most of these fears seem to matriculate when it is time for bed. Even for a two year old, life is scariest when one is alone and things are dark.

I have been admittedly a bit baffled by this fearfulness, if only because it seems to have come on so suddenly. Where did my brave, independent boy go? He who used to revel in being given the freedom to play alone in the basement now frantically chases us up the stairs if we start to leave him. Is it just a developmental phase or is this fearfulness a byproduct of something else in his life?

Since this is all new for us, I have been treading carefully when it comes to handling Finn's fear. Essentially, I want to teach Finn to manage his own fear. I don't want my big boy to face his life afraid and shrinking back from things.

In other words, I don't want him to handle fear the way that I did for many, many years. I've learned it doesn't go away if you ignore it......it just gains more power and grows more frightening.

The way I see it, starting now, however we help him deal with fear builds the foundation for how he will deal with fear for the rest of his life.

No pressure.

I feel as though it is a balancing act between listening to him tell his fears but not allowing him to dwell in them.

I want to seek to understand without fostering the fear and making it worse.
I want to let him know that his fears are heard but also that they have no power over him.
I want to hold him when he is afraid but I also want him to know that he is brave and strong and can conquer them on his own.

I want to throw one arm around him in comfort and use the other arm to equip him with a weapon to fight back the fear.

My best friend was over a few weeks ago while I was putting Finn to bed (Bachelorette finale - woop woop!) In his fear as I laid him down, he wanted me to leave the door open and the hallway light on. I did, but as I wandered out to Chanelle in the living room, I sought her advice on how she handled this phase with her own 3 sweet kids.

She quickly asked me, "Did you pray with him?"

Ummmmmmmmmmm..........no.

How had I not even thought of that?! I have prayed for him but I had honestly never thought to pray with him. Praying with him welcomes him into the process and it teaches him through my example.

If I am going to equip Finn to face and deal with his fears, then prayer is the first and last of weapons that I need to be giving him.

Duh. Thanks Chanelle!

The way that I see it, if our fears are like the yellow-eyed, gnashy monsters from "Where the Wild Things Are", then prayer is yelling "BE STILL!" directly at them.

"...Yell a loud no to the devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and He'll be there in no time..." - James 4:7 (MSG).

Now when Finn feels the very real and intense emotion of fear, I pray with him. I am beginning to teach him that he is not alone because he has a Heavenly Father who is ever with him and for him. It is my hope that as he matures, he will realize this truth in greater and increasing measures.

'And now', cried Max, 'Let the wild rumpus start!'" WTWTA

Not For a Moment

I love being a mommy to two boys.

Two sweet, squishy, lovable boys.

The transition from mommy of one to mommy of two was not everything that I pictured it would be.

I knew it would be hard. I was prepared for it to be hard. One consistent thing that I had heard from others is that the transition from one to two is hard.

I kept trying to prepare Matt for it to be hard, but Matt just wouldn't even go there in his mind.

That is why we are married! My realism meets his optimism in a happy, beautiful balancing act.

Yet even though I was prepared for it to be hard, I was not prepared for the right kind of hard.

The hard that I was expecting was actually quite easy. Perhaps I over-prepared myself by dwelling on worst case scenario possibilities. That's definitely been known to happen before :).

These things went easier than I planned:
 - I worried about how Finn would react. However, Finn loves his baby brother and is fascinated by him. He wants to be near him. He is not jealous but is sweet and obedient and eager to please 90% of the time. When he gets excited or revved up......its a different story. He is Matt's son after all! I love him in all of his moods.
 - Since Finn was a fairly easy baby, I was expecting my second one to be tougher. However, Jonas is the definition of content. He sleeps well, nurses well, and only gets fussy when he has a toot or a poop. He is fairly gassy.....he is Matt's son after all! :)
 - I was worried that with family in town that Jonas' entry in the world may be inconvenient or imposing to others. However, having extra family around was a gigantic blessing and it was wonderful getting to share those first few days of Jonas' life with more people.

I am so blessed and grateful that those worst case scenarios did not pan out. Once again, I wasted time mentally preparing for things that did not come to fruition.

However......there was a different kind of hard to deal with that I was not prepared for. There really would have been no way to prepare for it even if I did have some foreboding feeling about it.

First, the good news:
I was able to have a successful VBAC! Jonas cooperated perfectly and all of my labor went smoothly. It was a fun adventure to time my contractions through the night and feel the anticipation build as they became closer together. I am so thankful that I was able to give birth to Jonas that way.

And I am also very thankful for epidurals. Contractions are no joke.

The hard part started at the moment of Jonas' entry into the world. I don't need to paint a picture on here about everything that happened or went wrong.........those who need to know, do.

But there was a series of things that did not go as they should have. The result of that being that I was in quite a bit of pain for the first couple weeks of Jonas' life. The first week it was difficult to sit or move without pain.

Thus......caring for a newborn and a toddler was hard. The hard that I was not expecting.

I had many moments of frustration. I longed to jump into being a mommy of two....I wanted to run around with Finn so that he would know that Mommy still loved him. I wanted to pick up Jonas by myself to nurse him rather than have to have him handed to me. I wanted to dive in and feel like I could tackle everything that I saw looming before me.

I was not able to. I had to sit and wait and allow others to help. I had to *gasp* ask for help.

As frustrating as it was for me to wade slowly into the "mommy of two" waters, I can look back now and see what a blessing it was. It really just feels like everything worked out the way it needed to, pain and all.

Of course it is easy to say that now that the pain is mostly a distant memory. But that's how it works: pain loses its power in time. 

Now that everything has settled in a bit, I have gotten into a new routine and groove with my two boys.

I love my days with them more than I can say and am so thankful for the opportunity to be home with them. This may seem super nerdy, but sometimes I get butterflies of excitement in my stomach at the prospect of spending time with them.....even during middle of the night nursings. These days are precious gifts!

God's gifts can often come as a result of pain.......His faithfulness is always true, not only in the midst of good circumstances.

This song is my latest obsession and gets stuck in my head nearly every day. It applies to this situation in my life and so many others.........I believe it is a song that people need to hear. Peace through the pain, comfort in the storm, love when we are unlovable.....just more gifts from God!

"Not for a Moment (After All)" - Vertical Church Band