This weekend Scott and I took most of our staff to Chicago. It's our third year of doing this and each year is a great experience. This year I went to a business forum with a co-worker while the other girls attended classes on long hair design and new trends. The business forum that I attended was refreshing. I am the type of person that needs to soak it all in and process it a few times over. It was a five hour class that left me with quite a bit to digest. One of the speakers said that you can only have five major roles in your life. It made total sense but as I wrote down what I consider the most important roles I realized that these will soon be rearranged. I looked at my list, counted on my fingers, thought about it some more and yep, those were my roles. Wife, Salon Owner, Stylist, Fitness/health lover, and Educator. I feel God has blessed me with a deep love of taking responsibility for these roles. My roles are something I am proud to have. The learning process and growth over the years has deepened my faith and my relationships.
Since Scott and I took a leap of faith and opened our salon in 2008 we have been blessed beyond belief. We started out with two stylists and now we are a beautiful family of 16. Our staff is gifted and full of personality. It's not a coincidence that they were hired here though. It's purely because they were meant to be here. Even the employee that stole from us was suppose to be there at that moment. It was a learning experience for us and made us more aware of how to take care of the security in our business. Our staff has brought our dreams into reality and we have been able to make their dreams a reality as well. What a tremendous blessing!
Now, I am reflecting on my roles that I have taken so seriously since I was 20. I never would've predicted that a role would be "mother." I know that it's going to be amazing but I think it would be unnatural if I didn't say that a part of me will mourn a role that needs to be minimized. Some of you might say that this is not necessary but I have not taken my roles lightly. I am serious and dedicated to being a wife, salon owner, stylist, health/fitness lover and educator. These have been a strong source of blessing, strength, and growth.
I know that I need to make some adjustments but I have great peace about it all. My role as wife will remain. The role of "mother" will soon be next up on the list. I am praying about these other roles and what they will look like in the future. I don't think I want to try to predict it in detail but I know that it will all work out. Studio7 is thriving and our staff is hard working and responsible. My clients are understanding and supportive of my life changing. Personal fitness and health is what makes my body function and my mind refresh but it may look different in the future. Educating will hopefully still be a part of my life somewhere but we will just see where.
Life is suppose to change. It is suppose to move forward and once it's moved on you don't look back with regrets. You live and learn and keep on the journey. People always tell Scott and I that it was a daring move to open our own business but I don't know any other way of living. I am told that once our baby is born that I will not remember any other way of living. God opens doors and calls us to come inside. It's another door to walk through and great things await.
"A door opened and I went through it." Temple Grandin
Monday, March 14, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Scott Wrage...husband, berry farmer, salon owner, and soon to be dad
People tell Scott and I that we will be great parents and that is so great. It's very encouraging. I obviously watch my husband's behavior in a different way now that I'm pregnant and I have no doubt or fear in his ability to be a father. He's a fantastic caretaker of humans and animals. Even the fish that I have neglected to acknowledge for two years get entertained by Scott. He pets them! I can thank his "animal whispering" mom for that. It's genetics that they can speak any animal language. Scott can clean up any animal feces and urine without a second thought. Vomit doesn't phase him and he can bare-hand a dried dog turd. NO KIDDING...I've seen it. That may be too much information for some of you but I'm proving a point here. He's no wuss.
He was the youngest kid so he didn't spend much time with babies but he has a great babysitting story. He and his sister were babysitting some kids ages 8 months on up. They were playing tag with the older kids but it was suddenly put to a halt when Scott tripped over the baby on the floor and cut open it's forehead with a toenail. Can you imagine growing up with a scar on your forehead and having to tell everyone it was because you got sliced open by your baby sitter's toenail? GROSS!
He told me a few weeks ago that his biggest fear so far was swaddling. HAHAHA!! Feel free to die laughing. I'm thinking about pushing a human through my crotch and he is worried about wrapping it up in a blanket. I'm not going to burst his bubble though. He works better under pressure.
On a more serious note about Scott...kids love him. They run to him, remember his name, climb on him, smile at him, and reach for him. He's a natural. I look at him with curiosity wondering how that happens. I have never felt that natural with kids. I remember how awesome he was teaching English to first graders in Taiwan. I had a mental breakdown and he connected with them so easily.
I love watching his face when we go to our doctors appointments. At our second appointment the doctor forgot to listen for the heartbeat but Scott reminded her promptly. At the third appointment he was just as eager to hear the thump thump thump. In a week and a half we have another ultrasound to find out the sex of the baby. We are pumped! I will be watching his reaction because that's half the fun of it.
He's a man that's not afraid to laugh, love, get his hands in poop, work hard, baby talk animals, wash the dishes, worship, volunteer his time even if he doesn't have any, admit his faults, share his heart, watch HGTV, get eight hours of tattoo work at once, sing to our dogs, be a nerd on the computer, embarrass himself to entertain others, and he never misses a chance to tell me he loves me. I can't wait to see him in action as a dad!
...And yes we will share the big news of boy or girl! Put your vote in!
He was the youngest kid so he didn't spend much time with babies but he has a great babysitting story. He and his sister were babysitting some kids ages 8 months on up. They were playing tag with the older kids but it was suddenly put to a halt when Scott tripped over the baby on the floor and cut open it's forehead with a toenail. Can you imagine growing up with a scar on your forehead and having to tell everyone it was because you got sliced open by your baby sitter's toenail? GROSS!
He told me a few weeks ago that his biggest fear so far was swaddling. HAHAHA!! Feel free to die laughing. I'm thinking about pushing a human through my crotch and he is worried about wrapping it up in a blanket. I'm not going to burst his bubble though. He works better under pressure.
On a more serious note about Scott...kids love him. They run to him, remember his name, climb on him, smile at him, and reach for him. He's a natural. I look at him with curiosity wondering how that happens. I have never felt that natural with kids. I remember how awesome he was teaching English to first graders in Taiwan. I had a mental breakdown and he connected with them so easily.
I love watching his face when we go to our doctors appointments. At our second appointment the doctor forgot to listen for the heartbeat but Scott reminded her promptly. At the third appointment he was just as eager to hear the thump thump thump. In a week and a half we have another ultrasound to find out the sex of the baby. We are pumped! I will be watching his reaction because that's half the fun of it.
He's a man that's not afraid to laugh, love, get his hands in poop, work hard, baby talk animals, wash the dishes, worship, volunteer his time even if he doesn't have any, admit his faults, share his heart, watch HGTV, get eight hours of tattoo work at once, sing to our dogs, be a nerd on the computer, embarrass himself to entertain others, and he never misses a chance to tell me he loves me. I can't wait to see him in action as a dad!
...And yes we will share the big news of boy or girl! Put your vote in!
Craving, aching, and whining
Today was a tough day. Some days I feel fantastic and think that I can handle being prego for another 4 1/2 months or so. Today, not so much. I really should stop working 10 hours a day. I should really trade in my cute heels for something with cushion and velcro straps. I really should not have had Wendy's chicken nuggets. Seriously, don't tell anyone that I had a craving for honey mustard and chicken nuggets. Those poor hormone injected chickens that are stuck in a cage with 20 others until the day they are slaughtered. I told my mom and she about had an asthma attack right then. She is aware of my long time protest against fast food and tonight it got the best of me. I downed five golden nuggets dipped in honey mustard like it was a hot dog eating contest. I'm laying here now wondering if they are going to ever digest. The more I think about it, the more I feel them working back up my throat as a way of my body protesting all that I have stood against for so many years. I have been so proud to say I haven't had an unusual cravings. What's next? HUH?!? A bloody steak and pork chops? After all the women I talk to about pregnancy and their cravings I really thought it surely CAN'T be uncontrollable. It's all true though! I am sorry that I doubted you who ate a Big Mac everyday or eggs with m&m's (you know who you are).
Every night I come home and crash like a meteorite onto my couch. Scott has taken the role of caretaker because I act like I am about 97 years old. I ache all over and lift my legs up on three pillows. Whine, whine, whine...
During the day I feel our baby move around and I think to myself, "how could you not know you were pregnant?" I don't understand that show "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant." I mean a small part of me believes that some women are fairly symptom free but I would feel like a lunatic telling someone all my symptoms if I truly didn't think I was pregnant. Anyways...back to the movement thing. Some days I look in the mirror and have a mini panic attack because I forget I have this growing belly. Then comes the baby moving and grooving. Initially I think, "that's not a normal gas bubble." I have to remind myself it's the heirloom sized tomato baby trying to get comfortable in my womb. I do love that feeling though. Come to think of it, if I am uncomfortable then what must baby in the womb think? That can't be very comfortable AT ALL! Poor kid. That's why I believe we should have pouches like kangaroos instead of wombs. Just a personal thought though, I'm sure most would not agree.
I know that God created this process for our bodies but I will always be filled with wonder and amazement at it all. It's another beautiful mystery of our God. I'm glad I can partake even if it means strange cravings, achy bones, and uncontrollable emotions. It's going to be worth it.
Every night I come home and crash like a meteorite onto my couch. Scott has taken the role of caretaker because I act like I am about 97 years old. I ache all over and lift my legs up on three pillows. Whine, whine, whine...
During the day I feel our baby move around and I think to myself, "how could you not know you were pregnant?" I don't understand that show "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant." I mean a small part of me believes that some women are fairly symptom free but I would feel like a lunatic telling someone all my symptoms if I truly didn't think I was pregnant. Anyways...back to the movement thing. Some days I look in the mirror and have a mini panic attack because I forget I have this growing belly. Then comes the baby moving and grooving. Initially I think, "that's not a normal gas bubble." I have to remind myself it's the heirloom sized tomato baby trying to get comfortable in my womb. I do love that feeling though. Come to think of it, if I am uncomfortable then what must baby in the womb think? That can't be very comfortable AT ALL! Poor kid. That's why I believe we should have pouches like kangaroos instead of wombs. Just a personal thought though, I'm sure most would not agree.
I know that God created this process for our bodies but I will always be filled with wonder and amazement at it all. It's another beautiful mystery of our God. I'm glad I can partake even if it means strange cravings, achy bones, and uncontrollable emotions. It's going to be worth it.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
The weed of fear
I recently went to a women's conference in St. Louis. It was a fantastic experience. I left with so much joy and excitement. I also left realizing women live with a lot of fear. The fear speaks to us in subtle tones, quietly at first. It usually starts with something that happened that caused us pain. The pain went deep and started to root itself without permission. Pain and fear act like weeds in a pure organic garden. It was not suppose to be there but it is. So, the weeds get rooted and spread through our nourishment and life source. Someone might say spray Round Up on it and call it good. Just annihilate it, it's a quick fix. You spray something toxic on top of something toxic. It's like using alcohol or drugs to "forget" your troubles. It's like trying to throw up a pound of junk food to make up for your binging. It's like eating because you feel fat. It's like shopping to avoid your horrific home life, eventually you have to take those bags back to your house. It's a vicious cycle and after so many years you don't even know where it began. You spray the weeds with Round up and kill all the good in the garden over time. It's all contaminated now. It's no longer organic, pure, fresh, and it's probably close to dead.
The pain that started so long ago is topped with a few more pains. Then, just for kicks, let's add a few more pains. The next step we take to get rid of weeds is to build a wall. It's small wall at first. That should stop the weeds from creeping right? The wall is built, it feels good, it feels safe. *Big sigh of relief...ahhh... The weeds are now creeping vines that scale the wall. You resolve to make the wall bigger. You cross your arms and take a look at that towering wall. It's super safe now right? Wrong. Now you can't get around to the garden to water it, take care of it and watch it grow. You are missing out!
Why is this not working out? Why are my attempts to kill these weeds not working? God, why?!?!!!! The weeds come in the form of thorns now and it hurts the garden everywhere. At this point our weeds have taken over the fresh, young garden that we had so many hopes for. Our Round Up bottle is empty and has made our garden lose it's vibrancy. Our walls have closed us off from seeing the beauty of our garden and there's certainly no way for others to see in.
After all the attempts to make it better we are now full of questions. It's time to let someone take a look inside. You can't let just anyone in to fix this problem. This requires an expert. We have to break down the walls to let someone see this mess of a garden. Possible fear driven thoughts: "What if the expert thinks it's unrepairable? What if the expert judges my poor attempts to fix the garden? What if the expert doesn't think I can handle all the responsibility? What if the expert laughs at me? I feel so stupid! I'm so afraid of being a failure. I've tried so many times and nothing seems to work. Someone told me that it will always be like this. This is my problem, I will fix it. It's too late for my garden to grow. There's no turning back. I can't forgive myself. I can't forgive the person who planted the weeds in my garden."
The fears are feeding the thorny weeds. The fear is harmful and injurious just like the weeds to our garden. The weeds have taken over and the roots are deep. You must let the expert gardener come in. He comes in and promises to take care of your garden. He doesn't promise the weeds won't come back but he promises that He will tend to the garden regularly. There were some bad seeds that rooted a long time ago. The expert makes you understand what your responsibility is in all this. He tells you to not fear because he is with you on this journey. He says, "even if you don't see me I am still watching over the garden." He tells you that when the weeds start coming in you need to pull them up by the root immediately. He tells you to start planting good seeds and water them daily. He tells you to call him if you need anything at all. He promises the work will be worth it. He gives you a plan and hope.
After all his instruction you can either choose to trust him or trust your own path. By trusting in someone like him you are taking the road less traveled. You have to know that there will be weeds that come in from time to time. (There will be pain) You won't always remember to water and you may even forget a few weeds but he will come in and take care of those. He also says that this is a life long process and journey. The expert promises that you can always ask him questions without fear. After following his instruction you will begin to see the vibrancy come back to the garden. It will begin to radiate and thrive even when there are a few thorns still left to pull.
There's nothing that says we are entitled to a pain free life but there is something that says there is hope. Everyone is going through something and it's worth sharing. After only writing four blogs I have had a plethora of messages from women telling me that I'm not alone in my pregnancy journey. How empowering to know that we are not alone here? We need to stop asking "why me" and start asking "who else?" Even if we are in the midst of a struggle we should to ask how can I be apart of a solution and who's with me? *With fists up in the air-"WHO'S WITH ME!?!?" Come on ladies! I'm going to quote a good friend of mine and say, "we don't have time to be fake."
Who's going to talk about the weeds in their garden with me? Who's going to share their story with another person who just needs to hear "I'm not okay either." Who's going to kick down their walls with me? Who's going help me pull up these painful roots? You don't have to be healed to help, you don't have to be whole to share, your book doesn't have to be complete for others to read.
WE ARE NOT ALONE! WE ARE ALL LIVING THIS LIFE AND THERE IS FREEDOM TO BE HAD!
Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Isaiah 43:18-19 Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.
Matthew 18:20 For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them
The pain that started so long ago is topped with a few more pains. Then, just for kicks, let's add a few more pains. The next step we take to get rid of weeds is to build a wall. It's small wall at first. That should stop the weeds from creeping right? The wall is built, it feels good, it feels safe. *Big sigh of relief...ahhh... The weeds are now creeping vines that scale the wall. You resolve to make the wall bigger. You cross your arms and take a look at that towering wall. It's super safe now right? Wrong. Now you can't get around to the garden to water it, take care of it and watch it grow. You are missing out!
Why is this not working out? Why are my attempts to kill these weeds not working? God, why?!?!!!! The weeds come in the form of thorns now and it hurts the garden everywhere. At this point our weeds have taken over the fresh, young garden that we had so many hopes for. Our Round Up bottle is empty and has made our garden lose it's vibrancy. Our walls have closed us off from seeing the beauty of our garden and there's certainly no way for others to see in.
After all the attempts to make it better we are now full of questions. It's time to let someone take a look inside. You can't let just anyone in to fix this problem. This requires an expert. We have to break down the walls to let someone see this mess of a garden. Possible fear driven thoughts: "What if the expert thinks it's unrepairable? What if the expert judges my poor attempts to fix the garden? What if the expert doesn't think I can handle all the responsibility? What if the expert laughs at me? I feel so stupid! I'm so afraid of being a failure. I've tried so many times and nothing seems to work. Someone told me that it will always be like this. This is my problem, I will fix it. It's too late for my garden to grow. There's no turning back. I can't forgive myself. I can't forgive the person who planted the weeds in my garden."
The fears are feeding the thorny weeds. The fear is harmful and injurious just like the weeds to our garden. The weeds have taken over and the roots are deep. You must let the expert gardener come in. He comes in and promises to take care of your garden. He doesn't promise the weeds won't come back but he promises that He will tend to the garden regularly. There were some bad seeds that rooted a long time ago. The expert makes you understand what your responsibility is in all this. He tells you to not fear because he is with you on this journey. He says, "even if you don't see me I am still watching over the garden." He tells you that when the weeds start coming in you need to pull them up by the root immediately. He tells you to start planting good seeds and water them daily. He tells you to call him if you need anything at all. He promises the work will be worth it. He gives you a plan and hope.
After all his instruction you can either choose to trust him or trust your own path. By trusting in someone like him you are taking the road less traveled. You have to know that there will be weeds that come in from time to time. (There will be pain) You won't always remember to water and you may even forget a few weeds but he will come in and take care of those. He also says that this is a life long process and journey. The expert promises that you can always ask him questions without fear. After following his instruction you will begin to see the vibrancy come back to the garden. It will begin to radiate and thrive even when there are a few thorns still left to pull.
There's nothing that says we are entitled to a pain free life but there is something that says there is hope. Everyone is going through something and it's worth sharing. After only writing four blogs I have had a plethora of messages from women telling me that I'm not alone in my pregnancy journey. How empowering to know that we are not alone here? We need to stop asking "why me" and start asking "who else?" Even if we are in the midst of a struggle we should to ask how can I be apart of a solution and who's with me? *With fists up in the air-"WHO'S WITH ME!?!?" Come on ladies! I'm going to quote a good friend of mine and say, "we don't have time to be fake."
Who's going to talk about the weeds in their garden with me? Who's going to share their story with another person who just needs to hear "I'm not okay either." Who's going to kick down their walls with me? Who's going help me pull up these painful roots? You don't have to be healed to help, you don't have to be whole to share, your book doesn't have to be complete for others to read.
WE ARE NOT ALONE! WE ARE ALL LIVING THIS LIFE AND THERE IS FREEDOM TO BE HAD!
Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Isaiah 43:18-19 Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.
Matthew 18:20 For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Pull yourself together!
There are some of you who will relate to this when I identify myself as an undercover perfectionist. I hide most of those tendencies and learned how years ago. I am not a people pleaser perfectionist, I am a Krista pleaser perfectionist. It's not that I am super hard on others or have grand expectations of my surroundings, it's just me. When elementary school began I was inside at recess perfecting my times tables and division. I wasn't naturally gifted at these things but I worked hard to do well. When the report card came home I hesitated to hand my A's and B's to mom and dad. They always praised my grades but inside I thought I could do better. Why didn't I try harder? My parents basically told me I was good at everything but it never gave me a big head because I didn't necessarily believe it. Later in life I learned to tell myself I didn't care about things that I didn't naturally excel at. Every few months would come a big breakdown. I didn't know how to truly hand these expectations and burdens over to the Lord. When the breakdown would come it was really just a huge build up of all these disappointments in myself that had snowballed and I couldn't carry it anymore. Through my twenties God has been able to unravel my tightly knitted protective layers I put on. Little by little He has shown me things in GOOD and PERFECT timing. All this has helped me identify certain behavior a sooner so I can ask him to take my burdens instead of insisting that I can control my life. I cling to this verse:
Matthew 11:28-30 “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.”
Being pregnant has yet shown me another tightly knitted layer I wear around me. This layer of perfectionism is called my body image. I have learned how to enjoy running, I have learned the art of healthy eating, I have learned how to get myself into swimsuit season but I have not learned how except change in my body. Every winter I give myself "grace" to gain a few seasonal pounds to enjoy some comfort food. Now that spring and summer are approaching I examine every inch of myself. I'm ready for the rebound! I'm ready to step into my shorts and let the light hit my legs! The reality is I will not fit into my shorts this summer, I will not look the same as I have since 9th grade. My husband says I must have blinders on because I look great. When someone is comfortable with something for so long it is hard, I mean HARD to let go. I never realized how my body image has controlled me for so long. I always thought because I had a good handle on my self-esteem that it wasn't an issue. Boy, was I wrong and I am wide awake to these issues. Dealing with them is a daily battle at this point. People tell me it's okay, I am suppose to be gaining weight because I am pregnant. Tell me all you want but it's not soaking in.
Some women go into pregnancy with arms wide open and ready for this amazing change to happen in their body. They realize they are the vessel God has chosen to carry their baby in. I am resisting this change for some odd reason. I have a sensible head about me, I really do. I understand that this is a blessing and in moments I feel blessed and proud to carry our baby inside of me. Most of the time though, all I see is that my pride and joy (my body image) is slowly expanding and morphing right before my eyes. It is a slap in the face to come to grips that all these years I have thought what a healthy person I am and then come to realize I carried some self-righteous pride with that. This is quite honestly one of the most humbling times in my life.
Women are the worst at picking out their flaws. I talk to women everyday about taking care of themselves and seeing themselves for who they really are. I see beautiful women sit in my chair and I think "why don't you really see how wonderful and beautiful you are?" Now, here I am, haunted by my negative thoughts. This is truly the work of the devil. It's just like him to sit here and tell beautiful women lies lies lies! This is a bunch of crap and I am not going to stand for it! I believe God made us in his image.
In the words Jesus, "Get behind Me, Satan! You are an offense to Me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men." Matthew 16:23
Our world is polluted with sexuality and looking a certain way but God has created us to be different. Individuals sharing their gifts and talents and love. Love, Love, Love.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Loving others and loving yourself is what will shine a light in this dim world. Writing this today has given me freedom I didn't expect, tears I didn't know I needed to shed, and layers of prideful disappointment scraped away.
I pray that the women who read this believe that God is bigger than the battle.
This is a song that touches my soul
You Fail Us Not:
Failure doesn’t phase You, worry doesn’t win,
Loss doesn’t leave You afraid to start again,
Our sin doesn’t shock You,
Our shame doesn’t shame You at all
Mistakes do not move You, terror doesn’t tame,
Death doesn’t doom You to life in the grave,
Our suffering doesn’t scare You,
Our secrets won’t surprise You at all
There is nothing above You,
There is nothing beyond You,
There is nothing that You can’t do…
There is no one beside You,
There is no one that’s like You,
There is nothing that You can’t do…
Whatever will come, we’ll rise above,
You fail us not, You fail us not,
No matter the war, our hope is secure,
You fail us not, You fail us not,
You fail us not…
Hatred doesn’t hide You, evil doesn’t ail,
Despair can’t disguise You and tell You that You’ve failed,
Our doubt doesn’t daunt You,
Our darkness won’t defeat You at all
You’re bigger than the battle,
You are bigger than the battle
You are bigger than the battle has ever been
Matthew 11:28-30 “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.”
Being pregnant has yet shown me another tightly knitted layer I wear around me. This layer of perfectionism is called my body image. I have learned how to enjoy running, I have learned the art of healthy eating, I have learned how to get myself into swimsuit season but I have not learned how except change in my body. Every winter I give myself "grace" to gain a few seasonal pounds to enjoy some comfort food. Now that spring and summer are approaching I examine every inch of myself. I'm ready for the rebound! I'm ready to step into my shorts and let the light hit my legs! The reality is I will not fit into my shorts this summer, I will not look the same as I have since 9th grade. My husband says I must have blinders on because I look great. When someone is comfortable with something for so long it is hard, I mean HARD to let go. I never realized how my body image has controlled me for so long. I always thought because I had a good handle on my self-esteem that it wasn't an issue. Boy, was I wrong and I am wide awake to these issues. Dealing with them is a daily battle at this point. People tell me it's okay, I am suppose to be gaining weight because I am pregnant. Tell me all you want but it's not soaking in.
Some women go into pregnancy with arms wide open and ready for this amazing change to happen in their body. They realize they are the vessel God has chosen to carry their baby in. I am resisting this change for some odd reason. I have a sensible head about me, I really do. I understand that this is a blessing and in moments I feel blessed and proud to carry our baby inside of me. Most of the time though, all I see is that my pride and joy (my body image) is slowly expanding and morphing right before my eyes. It is a slap in the face to come to grips that all these years I have thought what a healthy person I am and then come to realize I carried some self-righteous pride with that. This is quite honestly one of the most humbling times in my life.
Women are the worst at picking out their flaws. I talk to women everyday about taking care of themselves and seeing themselves for who they really are. I see beautiful women sit in my chair and I think "why don't you really see how wonderful and beautiful you are?" Now, here I am, haunted by my negative thoughts. This is truly the work of the devil. It's just like him to sit here and tell beautiful women lies lies lies! This is a bunch of crap and I am not going to stand for it! I believe God made us in his image.
In the words Jesus, "Get behind Me, Satan! You are an offense to Me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men." Matthew 16:23
Our world is polluted with sexuality and looking a certain way but God has created us to be different. Individuals sharing their gifts and talents and love. Love, Love, Love.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Loving others and loving yourself is what will shine a light in this dim world. Writing this today has given me freedom I didn't expect, tears I didn't know I needed to shed, and layers of prideful disappointment scraped away.
I pray that the women who read this believe that God is bigger than the battle.
This is a song that touches my soul
You Fail Us Not:
Failure doesn’t phase You, worry doesn’t win,
Loss doesn’t leave You afraid to start again,
Our sin doesn’t shock You,
Our shame doesn’t shame You at all
Mistakes do not move You, terror doesn’t tame,
Death doesn’t doom You to life in the grave,
Our suffering doesn’t scare You,
Our secrets won’t surprise You at all
There is nothing above You,
There is nothing beyond You,
There is nothing that You can’t do…
There is no one beside You,
There is no one that’s like You,
There is nothing that You can’t do…
Whatever will come, we’ll rise above,
You fail us not, You fail us not,
No matter the war, our hope is secure,
You fail us not, You fail us not,
You fail us not…
Hatred doesn’t hide You, evil doesn’t ail,
Despair can’t disguise You and tell You that You’ve failed,
Our doubt doesn’t daunt You,
Our darkness won’t defeat You at all
You’re bigger than the battle,
You are bigger than the battle
You are bigger than the battle has ever been
Monday, February 28, 2011
Keep the change?
Our romance began in the good ol' North Grand Mall in Ames, Ia. I was managing a hair salon and Scott managed a shoe store. With both of us working 50+ hours per week and only two store away from each other we were bound to meet. Scott would walk by daily and I would look at him with curiosity. It wasn't a love at first site thing, it was more like "why hasn't this guy talked to me?" I didn't think that way because I thought I was amazing. I thought that way because I was a mall "lifer" and I knew everyone from the store managers to the janitors. He didn't know my name so he nicknamed me "Regis", as in the salon that I managed. Couldn't he come up with a better name than that? Seriously.
Finally, Scott strutted into my salon. He asked for a haircut and I purposely put him on my books because I wanted to know what this boy was all about. It may have had something to do with his piercing blue eyes and sharp jaw line. He sat down in my chair and showed me a picture of Mark from the punk band Blink182. How adorable. A man after my own heart. (Smile and sigh) He had no clue that my Blink182 obsession dated back to junior high. I rocked that haircut with ease. After the mall discount the total for the cut came up to something like $23.96. Scott carried $24 and some change in his baggy shorts pocket. Keep the change? As he left the salon I thought, "unbelievable, this guy just gave me a 40 cent tip!" Less than impressive...hmmmph.
A week went by and a few hello's were exchanged. About 8pm Scott walks by Regis, gave me a confident stare and stopped dead in front of me. "Uhh...I should probably get your number so we can hang out sometime." Really? That's how you are asking me out? I loved it. No fake charm, no messing around. This kid got right to the point and really didn't even ask a question, it was more of a demand. So, with a gun pointed at me, I handed over my digits. Neither one of us really knew what happened. Scott tells me he felt incredibly stupid and I felt like I had the Jedi mind trick played on me.
Two weeks went by before Scott had the nerve to dial me up. Even then, it came in the form of a text. "Come down to Journey's." As I walked down the mall I heard cheers coming from within some stores. Obviously, Scott had worked up some nerve to ask me out and told everyone about it. Here we go again...Scott-"Uhh...do you want to hang out sometime?" I reply equally unenthusiastically, "Sure, when?" This was so awkward. "Tonight?" "Sure. What do you want to do?" "Do you want to see a movie?" "Sure. What movie?" "Do you want to see Amityville Horror?" I had already seen this movie but I love scary movies and Ryan Reynolds, it was a win win for me. There it was, the date was set up in the least romantic way possible and there were hearts floating out of my eyes.
The start of this date was ridiculous. First of all, I still held a grudge for the lame tip he gave me 3 weeks prior and now he was taking me to a dollar movie in the mall that we basically lived at. I anxiously waited outside and he waited inside. We both thought we were being stood up. Finally, he let me know via text message that he had been waiting inside for a while. I thought, "good, make him wait for me." He paid a hefty $1 for my movie ticket. My senses were heightened and I took out my checklist of necessary physical features that I desired and wanted to avoid. I could smell cologne...check, I looked at his shoes for style...check, then I scanned for weird deformities on his hands. I observed that is pinky fingers were abnormally small compared to the rest of his fingers. I made a note of that. Other than that, his breath didn't smell and he decently styled the haircut I gave him. As the movie got rolling I suddenly discovered something about Scott that I thought would've been a deal breaker. It was how he breathed. This was not a specific thing on my list that I looked for but I definitely made note of it. At that point I was unaware that he had a deviated septum (a nose issue). He breathed through his nose loudly, like really loud. I wondered if it would ever stop! It continued the whole movie and didn't ease up. I put that on the "comments" part of my checklist. "Breathes loudly"
After the movie I gave him a chance to redeem himself and take me to a fancy restaurant...Perkins. We talked about bands, where we grew up, and shared some stories. Typical date stuff but something was different with him. He had no charm and no big red flags stood out to me as instant deal breakers. At that point in my life I had some major baggage and it took little to no effort to dispose of a man that made me the least bit uneasy. If I didn't see a future after two dates it was "sorry Charley." Scott kept a steady head about him and gave me space but also made a strong point of how much he enjoyed spending time with me. He stayed cool, collected, and came to my rescue in quite a few damsel in distress situations. For instance, he drove all the way to Omaha to pick me up from the airport when a friend forgot me. He got me cold medicine and watched me sport all the side affects from the meds. I was unaware that Scott already told everyone that I was the girl of his dreams and he was ready for the pursuit. He loved me and I knew it. It wasn't long before we talked about spending our lives together.
This is a brief overview of our courtship but the point is when you know, you know. God placed this man in my path and we both knew that our journey was meant to be fused together. Exactly one year after we met that fated day in Regis Salon we married. I'm not perfect and he is not perfect but we are perfect for each other. I say "Scott is my entertainment for life." Scott still says that I'm the girl of his dreams. It seems only natural that we carry this love onto another generation.
Finally, Scott strutted into my salon. He asked for a haircut and I purposely put him on my books because I wanted to know what this boy was all about. It may have had something to do with his piercing blue eyes and sharp jaw line. He sat down in my chair and showed me a picture of Mark from the punk band Blink182. How adorable. A man after my own heart. (Smile and sigh) He had no clue that my Blink182 obsession dated back to junior high. I rocked that haircut with ease. After the mall discount the total for the cut came up to something like $23.96. Scott carried $24 and some change in his baggy shorts pocket. Keep the change? As he left the salon I thought, "unbelievable, this guy just gave me a 40 cent tip!" Less than impressive...hmmmph.
A week went by and a few hello's were exchanged. About 8pm Scott walks by Regis, gave me a confident stare and stopped dead in front of me. "Uhh...I should probably get your number so we can hang out sometime." Really? That's how you are asking me out? I loved it. No fake charm, no messing around. This kid got right to the point and really didn't even ask a question, it was more of a demand. So, with a gun pointed at me, I handed over my digits. Neither one of us really knew what happened. Scott tells me he felt incredibly stupid and I felt like I had the Jedi mind trick played on me.
Two weeks went by before Scott had the nerve to dial me up. Even then, it came in the form of a text. "Come down to Journey's." As I walked down the mall I heard cheers coming from within some stores. Obviously, Scott had worked up some nerve to ask me out and told everyone about it. Here we go again...Scott-"Uhh...do you want to hang out sometime?" I reply equally unenthusiastically, "Sure, when?" This was so awkward. "Tonight?" "Sure. What do you want to do?" "Do you want to see a movie?" "Sure. What movie?" "Do you want to see Amityville Horror?" I had already seen this movie but I love scary movies and Ryan Reynolds, it was a win win for me. There it was, the date was set up in the least romantic way possible and there were hearts floating out of my eyes.
The start of this date was ridiculous. First of all, I still held a grudge for the lame tip he gave me 3 weeks prior and now he was taking me to a dollar movie in the mall that we basically lived at. I anxiously waited outside and he waited inside. We both thought we were being stood up. Finally, he let me know via text message that he had been waiting inside for a while. I thought, "good, make him wait for me." He paid a hefty $1 for my movie ticket. My senses were heightened and I took out my checklist of necessary physical features that I desired and wanted to avoid. I could smell cologne...check, I looked at his shoes for style...check, then I scanned for weird deformities on his hands. I observed that is pinky fingers were abnormally small compared to the rest of his fingers. I made a note of that. Other than that, his breath didn't smell and he decently styled the haircut I gave him. As the movie got rolling I suddenly discovered something about Scott that I thought would've been a deal breaker. It was how he breathed. This was not a specific thing on my list that I looked for but I definitely made note of it. At that point I was unaware that he had a deviated septum (a nose issue). He breathed through his nose loudly, like really loud. I wondered if it would ever stop! It continued the whole movie and didn't ease up. I put that on the "comments" part of my checklist. "Breathes loudly"
After the movie I gave him a chance to redeem himself and take me to a fancy restaurant...Perkins. We talked about bands, where we grew up, and shared some stories. Typical date stuff but something was different with him. He had no charm and no big red flags stood out to me as instant deal breakers. At that point in my life I had some major baggage and it took little to no effort to dispose of a man that made me the least bit uneasy. If I didn't see a future after two dates it was "sorry Charley." Scott kept a steady head about him and gave me space but also made a strong point of how much he enjoyed spending time with me. He stayed cool, collected, and came to my rescue in quite a few damsel in distress situations. For instance, he drove all the way to Omaha to pick me up from the airport when a friend forgot me. He got me cold medicine and watched me sport all the side affects from the meds. I was unaware that Scott already told everyone that I was the girl of his dreams and he was ready for the pursuit. He loved me and I knew it. It wasn't long before we talked about spending our lives together.
This is a brief overview of our courtship but the point is when you know, you know. God placed this man in my path and we both knew that our journey was meant to be fused together. Exactly one year after we met that fated day in Regis Salon we married. I'm not perfect and he is not perfect but we are perfect for each other. I say "Scott is my entertainment for life." Scott still says that I'm the girl of his dreams. It seems only natural that we carry this love onto another generation.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
First Tri
Don't let the title of this post deceive you. We were not "trying" to get knocked up. Without going into too much detail, if we were "trying" it would've taken two years. That's how long we had been leaving it up to God. I'm thankful for those two years because we had great vacations, a missions trip to Taiwan, and we opened our dream salon and spa. The timing is perfect but neither Scott nor I would ever say we were ready for a baby. We were absolutely content with our lives. Contentment oozed more into routine comfort. Easy, busy, controlled, and our biggest concern was where we were going to vacation next.
About week six is when I fell ill and tired. Nausea had set in morning, noon, and night. As someone who claims to be healthy, I suddenly felt like I had been running a marathon on a full stomach through the night. I woke up tired and immediately nauseous. Eating was a task. Drinking water disgusted me. I worked through the nausea one client at a time. Some of them instinctively questioned me. I'm guessing it was my bloated, green face that gave it away. Dramatically, I told Scott that I was sure I was going to die. I told him that he must take care of me! That involved taking off my shoes, providing me bread to gnaw on, and taking on all household chores until further notice. God bless this man and his generosity!
This undesirable insanity gave me some comfort because it was a sign that baby was still growing. God gave me some grace and it eased up around week 10. It hit me here and there but I no longer felt like vomiting on my clients and that was so relieving. What if that really happened? Oh my gosh, that would be horrible! If you are a client of mine you should be thanking God that I didn't.
Week 10 I jumped back into working out and I felt like a million bucks! I was eating a ton of protein and staying off the junk food. I suggest that to anyone who has the yucks in the first tri. Nausea was replaced with hormonal outbursts of weeping for no dang reason. This was annoying and didn't make being pregnant any more desirable. As I started to tell people I would get this response, "Congratulations!!!! Are you guys excited?" Hmmm...that response haunted me day and night. I couldn't come up with an answer that deemed itself worthy without explaining my whole life story and what led up to this surprise party in my uterus. I'm a horrible liar and answering yes made my eyes dart side to side. I dare not answer no. That would leave me the worst human procreator ever! To some I gave an in depth explaination as to why I hesitated to jump on the happy baby ship. To others I mildly averted the question or answered yes with a contorted face and my perfected "uncomfortable laugh".
The verb excite "is to arouse or stir up emotions or feelings." Excitement, for most, I think translates to "elated." Elated means "very happy or proud, jubilant; high in spirits." Sorry for the english lesson but this is how I process things. Either way, I felt like I couldn't put this life changing event into one single word. Still, I had moments of uncertainity and more often than not I wondered how I could control this situation. That's probably what bothered me most. NO CONTROL!?!? What does that look like? In my current situation, it looks like a fetus. An adorable, naked fetus that is composed of a little Scott, a little me, and a heartbeat created by God. Slowly, I am excepting this beautiful plan that God has for us and it's truly, uncontrollably beautiful. Beauty is "the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations, a meaningful design or pattern, or something else."
Ask me if I'm excited...My answer is "it's a beautiful."
About week six is when I fell ill and tired. Nausea had set in morning, noon, and night. As someone who claims to be healthy, I suddenly felt like I had been running a marathon on a full stomach through the night. I woke up tired and immediately nauseous. Eating was a task. Drinking water disgusted me. I worked through the nausea one client at a time. Some of them instinctively questioned me. I'm guessing it was my bloated, green face that gave it away. Dramatically, I told Scott that I was sure I was going to die. I told him that he must take care of me! That involved taking off my shoes, providing me bread to gnaw on, and taking on all household chores until further notice. God bless this man and his generosity!
This undesirable insanity gave me some comfort because it was a sign that baby was still growing. God gave me some grace and it eased up around week 10. It hit me here and there but I no longer felt like vomiting on my clients and that was so relieving. What if that really happened? Oh my gosh, that would be horrible! If you are a client of mine you should be thanking God that I didn't.
Week 10 I jumped back into working out and I felt like a million bucks! I was eating a ton of protein and staying off the junk food. I suggest that to anyone who has the yucks in the first tri. Nausea was replaced with hormonal outbursts of weeping for no dang reason. This was annoying and didn't make being pregnant any more desirable. As I started to tell people I would get this response, "Congratulations!!!! Are you guys excited?" Hmmm...that response haunted me day and night. I couldn't come up with an answer that deemed itself worthy without explaining my whole life story and what led up to this surprise party in my uterus. I'm a horrible liar and answering yes made my eyes dart side to side. I dare not answer no. That would leave me the worst human procreator ever! To some I gave an in depth explaination as to why I hesitated to jump on the happy baby ship. To others I mildly averted the question or answered yes with a contorted face and my perfected "uncomfortable laugh".
The verb excite "is to arouse or stir up emotions or feelings." Excitement, for most, I think translates to "elated." Elated means "very happy or proud, jubilant; high in spirits." Sorry for the english lesson but this is how I process things. Either way, I felt like I couldn't put this life changing event into one single word. Still, I had moments of uncertainity and more often than not I wondered how I could control this situation. That's probably what bothered me most. NO CONTROL!?!? What does that look like? In my current situation, it looks like a fetus. An adorable, naked fetus that is composed of a little Scott, a little me, and a heartbeat created by God. Slowly, I am excepting this beautiful plan that God has for us and it's truly, uncontrollably beautiful. Beauty is "the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations, a meaningful design or pattern, or something else."
Ask me if I'm excited...My answer is "it's a beautiful."
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