Playing Pretend- Realizations of Single Parenthood

Over Spring Break, I had a small glimpse of what it's like to be a single mom. 
Two kids, a dog, two cats; the kids' schedules and my schedule (including william's sonic shifts and my work); friends over and sleepovers; plus all the house stuff- chore reminders, meal planning, chauffeuring, dishes, cleaning - it never ends. It's enough to wear you out. 
My week was temporary. At the end of it, I got to hand over kids and keys and go home. But it's permanent for the single parents, the ones who wake up every day and raise kids alone. And I honestly don't know how they do it- well, there is one way, and that's with God's grace. 
I can't possibly imagine the extent of what it's like to be a single parent, but given a taste gives me empathy. It makes me wonder how you sweet ones keep going, and how you find the strength to do so. And it hit me. It's found when the kids have passed out on the couch, you're pulling covers over them, and love for that little life sweeps through you. It's found when the dog follows you as you turn off lights and check the locks, and you allow His peace to restore your soul as you prepare to shower and crawl into bed. It's found when you finally get a proper thank you or offer of consideration. It's found when you have five minutes to do your Jesus time. It's found in the success of not strangling a kid today (partly kidding, partly being truthful). 
If you're a single parent, know that there is help out there. Know that your kids are gonna be fine. Know that Christ is walking ahead of you, with you, and behind both you and your kiddos. 
And for the kids? Give your parents a break once in a while. Realize the multitude of things they (hopefully) do for you. Offer to help a little more. Tell them how appreciated they are. 
And everybody else? Pray for single families, and figure out how you specifically can bless them. 
xx, bethany

Baby you can drive my car.

My car is disgusting. It shouldn't be. I claim to live out of my car, but I do not. So why the mess? I could blame it on my dad. When my sister and I were growing up, we hated riding in his car. The man is pretty neat, except for his car. It was like a trash can exploded in there. Usually smelled funny too (In my defense, my car doesn't smell funny). So why have I turned out the same way with my car? 

I mean, there's dust on the dash, I typically have a present i-meant-to-give-someone-last-week, at least 4 plastic bottles, scraps of paper and receipts flung about, one of marley's toys, dirt from the boys' shoes, a bag of clothes that needs to go to goodwill, extra sonic straws, mail, the rip in the leather on the passenger seat (thanks brady), a card I need to put in the mailbox which-i-drive-by-every-day-but-its-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-car-and-i-dont-want-to-get-out, a bakery container, a notebook, and on humid days, my steering wheel flakes off in my hands-gross (thanks andrew whit.). My windows are even occasionally smudged with dog noses and kids' finger prints. 

So I was SO proud of myself last week because I CLEANED OUT MY CAR. I got rid of junk, and vacuumed and windexed and voila! It was like a new car. 

I had car-cleaning motives though, I'll admit. Since this week is Spring Break, I'm staying with two kids while their parents are outta town. I knew that not only would I be chauffeuring them around, but I'd more than likely end up hauling kids to and from church related events. And truth be told, I didn't want 14 year old judgment about my car! 

But enough about my dirty car. If I've learned anything of spring break, you take every opportunity for fun and run with it. It will always lead to some sort of adventure, and where there is adventure to be had, there will be laughter and memories made. This week has consisted of car sing alongs, scooting cats off my laptop bag, dance parties, dressing up american girl dolls, learning Call of Duty terminology, playing Broomball, sneezing at dog hair, playing TopGolf, teaching bus singalong songs, AND an Anne of Green Gables MARATHON- OHmyGOODNESSgracious. If you follow me on social media, you'll have seen my excitement over that last one. And I think I blew up Instagram yesterday with my TopGolf pictures; sorry, I am NOT sorry. 

xx, bethany

Actions {>>>} Words

Sundays are my hot mess days, I hate to admit. Like, HAWT mess. Not usually in a good way, either. My bed is more tempting to stay in. I try on more outfits on Sunday morning than I wear in an entire week. I run an extra 5 minutes late (I KNOW). I forget stuff as I scramble to get out the door. 

HOT MESS, I tell ya. 

By the time I get to the student floor on Sunday mornings, I have myself a little more put together (or so I like to think). Several of us teachers sit together in the back after mingle time, while the students are getting the group lesson. These are the times I receive some of the best revelations and convictions. 

A recent Sunday convicted me of how important it is that our actions back up our words. I am convinced that we are better witnesses through our actions than my words alone. I can talk to someone all day long, but at the end of the day, what are they going to remember most? They're going to remember what I did. For if I am not consistently living what I preach, then I am a hypocrite. 

As Jesus followers, we have to make a conscious efforts to line up our words and deeds with the Word. It isn't easy. Our flesh would prefer we not live by the Word, which is why we must pray for His way to become our only way. 

I don't want it to be questionable that Jesus Christ is my Number 1. I want my heart, my aura, my everything to radiate Him. So that means making decisions more consciously. conversing with people more purposefully, meet with people more intentionally, and forgive more quickly. 

I pray that He would mold me into someone who's first nature is to reach for Him. 

blessings, beth

Hashtag- Stuff My 6th Grade Girls Say

Names left out to protect the guilty. 

_____________

Girl #1- "What do you call a scalp doctor?"

Girl #2- "Is this a joke? Hmm, a native american?"

Girl #3- "Whoa now."

Girl #1- "NO! I'm serious! I was thinking, if a doctor ever needed to do scalp research, they should come to our church and wait til the choir bows their heads. there's all kinds a scalps up there!"

_____________ 

"It's okay; you'll survive without him." 

_____________ 

6th grade girl- "You forgot to warn her that we chase squirrels!"

Me- "Nuh uh, I warned her of that in our facebook message!"

DNow Leader- "...I gotta reread that facebook message"

_____________ 

Me- "I said go mingle; I didn't say go flirt!!"

6th grade girl- "Ehh it means the same thing."

_____________  

"Look we got GREAT white girl moves!" 

_____________ 

And If one more 12 year old sing-screams anything related to Frozen at me, I'm going to scream. That is all. 

xx, bethany

just sharing a lil' more o' me library, volume 13

Happy Wednesday loves!! 

First, thanks for the love in regards to my last post (found here). You guys are my people. 

ain't that the truth, ruth. 

Now, onto our weekly Sharing My Library. Reedemed Girls Podcast- Girlfriend's Guidebook Numero Dos helped me see the light regarding a strained relationship. Thankful for resources like podcasts to point us to Jesus.

I had the urge to watch the 1995 The Parent Trap the other day.  Such a good movie. 

Mexican food. All week this week, I've been crazy craving Mexican food. It's BAD, yall. Chips and salsa. Queso. Tacos. Enchiladas. Beans. Rice.... Drool. Please, just Mexican food, 24/7, that'd be great. 

I think I've mentioned my love for Downton Abbey a time or two. Well, may I just say that the DA season finale had me SWOONing. Mr Carson and Ms Hughes walking hand in hand into the water... le sigh. And Rose's ball gown? To die for.  And the Doawger's zingers leave me in stitches. I want to be her when I grow up. 

Keeping with my vintage love, I've been daydreaming at shopruche.com lately. 

I love this dress. buy here 

oh, and lent. Wah. No, I ain't catholic. Last year the best friend (Rachel) decided we each ought to give up something we idolized, in order to spend more time focusing on Jesus. I gave up caffeine, in all shapes and forms. She gave up sugar. 

It was a ROUGH season in our lives. Looking back, Rachel had more of an excuse to break because she was in the midst of a breakup. Personally, I just can't function without coffee in the morning and coke in the afternoon. 

This year, Rachel's giving up sleep. Like sleeping in and staying up late. She wants to be more diligent in her quiet time. With diligence comes intention. So, she's intentionally setting aside time every morning to get her crossfitting bum out of bed to spend time with Jesus. 

Me? Well, I'm giving up biting/picking at my nails and attempting to pray over subconscious worries instead. My nail biting/picking at cuticles is a problem. Seriously, SOME people smack me for it. But I'd rather have nice nails and a light spirit because I'm handing worries to Jesus, sooooo here we go. 

Are you giving anything up to focus more on Jesus? 

xx, bethany

one of those mornings

It's one of those mornings. 

It's one of those mornings where worry and anxiety have consumed me. Not anxiety like worry, but anxiety like I-have-to-take-medicine-for-you anxiety. 

It's one of those mornings that I've had to deal with my demons, including anxiety.

It's one of those mornings where I hear the call to get on my knees, yet my pride wants to hold onto anger instead. 

It's one of those mornings where my shower consisted of tears, in surrendering (yet again, because surrender is a continuation) to the God who holds everything in His hands. 

If you could see me, you'd probably laugh. I've got the sunlight pouring in, but because the snow and ice are still here, looking outside makes me squint, but I need the sun for my anxiety, so the blinds stay open and the sensitive blue eyed girl continues to squint. In addition to sunlight, I've got this blue-box-desk-light on, that flips the neurons in my brain. That's right, anxiety is a chemical imbalance, people. I'm drinking coffee, with caffeine, which is a no-no for anxiety. But I've already chugged gallons of water, and tea didn't help either. Sometimes just cradling the warm mug helps. 

Satan continues his bombardment. The lies ring in my head repeatedly- I should have this figured out by now. You should just move home with your parents. You'll never be more than your mother's caretaker. My strange story will never help anyone. I'll never save enough money for college, so why bother trying. 

My worry comes from my wanting. I crave, I desire, I long for life to go the way I envision it, just once in my life. I want to know what is next. I want to decide what's next. I want to snap my fingers and have life line up perfectly before my eyes. I want to be settled and secure and someone's only one. I want to know I'm making a difference for Jesus, that what I do and say has significance. 

I want control. 

I'm tired of over-sleeping and over-spending and over-analyzing and over-eating. I'm tired of ignoring the Lord's call, His insistent plea, that I write. I'm tired of wishing for change and sitting on my rear, not doing anything about it. 

I'm tired. It's one of those mornings. 

In the midst of all that, the word gratitude comes, floating to me in the softest of whispers. A breath almost, so soft I strain to hear it. Gratitude, longing to be grasped and expanded upon. 

I'm thankful for the occasional anxiety attacks that send me to my knees. 

I'm thankful for the days with no job to be at, so I can get off my butt and write. 

I'm thankful for my little home, cozy and beckoning, that reminds me I have been abundantly provided for.   

I'm thankful for community, that calls me out and lifts me up. 
I'm thankful for my family, as weird and unique as we are. 

I'm thankful for the Lord's constant presence that has yet to give up on me. 

I'm thankful for the overwhelming amount of promises and truths found in His word. 

I'm thankful for the material things- my favorite mug, my journal, fun pens, my Bible, blankets, a heater that warms, a car that runs, speakers that carry music aloud. 

I'm thankful for each breath I can take and each step I can take. 

I'm thankful for a Savior to chase. 

"This life, this love, was always meant to be a wild, crazy adventure discovering the thrill and rush; the more of You I seek, the more it leaves me wanting Your everything." (my song for the year, Bethel Music's Chasing You)

And again, I let go and throw my future into the hands that already hold it. Because I surrender to my need for Jesus. He is here. Hallelujah. 

xx, Bethany

Unless You Live In Texas

Thankfully the season come and go. Around here, they come and go in the same day (yesterday was 80 and today was 19). Seasons are ever changing, leaving the world around us ever evolving. Tis a good thing. Too much time spent in one season would be fruitless. Even humans who dislike change see the necessity and importance of seasons. Life requires the different aspects of all seasons, each perfectly timed and perfectly placed to bring about full growth. 

(pic)

If it were a stagnant land, depression and despondency would most assuredly arise. Humankind would cry, "woe is me" and bemoan the lack of change. Twould be a folly but discontent souls find a place to lay blame wherever they are. 

The young ones are the ones who show us how to enjoy each season 's vast variety to it's full extent. With cheeky excitement they beg to play outside no matter the condition.

When did we so lose our sense of adventure? 

When did we stop looking forward to what was ahead, replacing excitement with dread?

When did we vecome crotchety and stagnent? 

Even trees that have been in the same place for hundreds iof years continue to grow, thrive, and affect those around it. 

Here's to change. To growth. To evolving. To trusting. 

Here's to looking forward to adventure. 

Here's to seasons. May they bring about much needed growth in us. 

xx, bethany