Love or fear?

This last week has been interesting, to say the least.

Today, I'm sitting at home, burning off sick time because I honestly don't know how much longer I will have a job, or if I will even get paid for this sick time. You see, I work for a company that just got its hand slapped by the government, in a big way. In a they-no-longer-have-hands way. Or arms. Or legs. Or really any part.

It is unsettling, but I am at peace about it. Mostly because I was working towards leaving anyway. Since March, I've been working part time in addition to my full time job. In May, I decided I wanted to pursue that full time. But it seemed scary. And daunting.

Start my own business? I know nothing about that.

I started talking with people, asking questions, trying to make informed decision. I made a goal that by the end of August, I would have everything in place. All my ducks in a row. A perfect plan and timeline.

And then last week happened.

I worked crazy hours. I drank copious amounts of coffee. At one point, I had a small breakdown where I was laughing and crying at the same time because I had no idea which way to react. All for a company that I didn't really like.

And I realized, I can't wait until the end of August. Not because we need the money, but that is a motivating factor. But because too long I lived in fear. In practicality. My job was secure. Safe. I could "play" at starting my own business, because deep down inside I knew that I had a safety net. In short, I lacked faith that God would see us through.

I no longer have that safety net. And yet I know without a doubt in my body that this is what God has called me to. Just since yesterday, doors have opened that I didn't even know existed. He is blessing this and in His time. Not in my perfectly crafted timeline. Funny how that happens.

It's at this point that I have to give a shout out to my dear friend Karen. She has been praying for me, and specifically my job situation since last fall. That has meant so much to me and I know God listened to her petitions on my behalf.

So where does this leave me? Currently at my kitchen table in sweats. But good things are coming.

I leave you with a video I'm sure you've seen by now. Its applications are greater than just a job situation. And while it is very apropos for me at this moment, I think it applies to everyone. Are you living in love or fear?

Mi casa es su casa

It has been a year since we bought our first house. What?? 

I love our house. Of course there are always things I want to change, but we've come a long way baby!

This is how each of the three bathrooms looked. Boxed lighting = hideous. They were also the only rooms not painted white in the entire house. 

This is the guest bathroom. I let Eric pick out the shower curtain.

I've decided to embrace the facial hair theme for the bathroom. I have not embraced the facial hair theme on Eric.

So much white! And the light was a hazard. Apparently very short, color-challenged people lived in this house before we did.

Still too much white for my liking, but I can deal. Shout out to Pinterest for the photo display idea.

The dining room. Again, so much white!

Much better!

The Not-So-Mid-Life Crisis

As I draw closer to my 29^th birthday (gasp!), I have been spending a lot of time reflecting on what I've done so far with my life, where and what I thought I would be. I've also been thinking about where I want to go from here.

Let me describe here. I am married. We have a dog. We have a house. We make good money. We travel. We have minimal debt. We are blessed. Pretty much, the American dream.

Except for the 2.5 children. And the 3 car garage. But the garage isn't the main point of this manifesto.

This August, we will have been married for 6 years. Most of the time, it feels like just a few months ago that we were these bright eyed youngsters, embarking on this great adventure called marriage. In my mind I am still that 23 year old who just graduated from college and couldn't wait to set up our first apartment together.

I love my husband. I love that he still makes me laugh. I love that he still catches me off guard with his witty asides. I love that he chooses to love me every day.

I love our life. And for the most part, I wouldn't change one thing about it.

But to the outside world, what we have isn't enough.

Because we don’t have children.

We have reached the age and apparently the tipping point in the length of our marriage where we should have procreated by now. I guess we missed the memo.

The question used to be “Are you guys going to have kids?” Our answer: “Yeah, probably, someday.”

The question is now “When are you guys going to have kids?” as if it is a foregone conclusion that we will be having children. Our answer: “Yeah, probably, someday.”

Or, my absolute personal favorite, “Are you guys trying?” As a new friend pointed out, this question is basically asking if we have sex on a regular basis. On the inside I respond, “Thanks for asking about my sex life, but I don’t really care to share the deets.” On the outside, I politely change the subject as it really is no one’s business but mine and my husbands.

These questions are coming up more frequently as more and more of our friends are having children. In fact, this year in our small group that we lead, we were the only couple without children. Talk about ironic. But this lends itself to the next progression of questions, “Do you feel pressured to have children?”

If I’m honest with myself, yes, I do. Or did, I should say. Several months ago, I felt like I was less than other woman because I didn't have children. I felt like my marriage was less than someone else’s because we didn't have children. It seemed like every conversation I was a part of turned to parenting woes, tips and tricks, commiserating about being in the trenches of sleep deprivation. When you have nothing to offer, no similar experience to share, you begin to feel like an outsider. An anomaly. And then the tiniest whisper begins in your heart, that you could belong too, if only you had children. And so begins the great lie that you are less because you don’t have children and you don’t belong because you don’t have children and children will be the answer.

But I am enough. My marriage is enough. I am a beautiful creation of the Heavenly Father and He has a plan for me, for my husband, for our marriage. It may or may not include children, but I know without a doubt in my mind that the plans He has are not some standard template that apply to the 25-35 year old married demographic. It is not wash, rinse, and repeat.

The people asking these questions are those whom I will chose to believe have good intentions and mean no offense; they are just trying to get to know us. But the thing about these questions is that they aren't really innocuous.

If we were struggling with infertility, these questions would be daggers to the heart, a continual reminder of what we don’t have and what others do and what the world expects of us because on the outside we appear to have healthy reproductive parts. It would be another lie that Satan plants in my heart of how I have failed, of how I am lesser.

If we were struggling with miscarriages, these questions would be wounds to a bruised and broken soul, grieving for what should have been.

I guess my point in writing this is to exorcise my own demons, to get rid of the frustration I feel when asked these questions. I do want children and I do think they are a part of the plan God has for me, whether they come from my womb or another. But I also think that it is something between me, my husband and God to figure out and that it will happen in His time, not someone else’s time.

So back to the beginning. Where do I go from here? I want to live a life unencumbered by the judgments of others. I want to live the life God has called me to, not the life other people think I should be living. I want to live a life that has meaning beyond achieving the American dream, including the 2.5 children. Too long I have lived in fear. No more. Today I live the life I was called to.