At the Crossroads of Faith and Fear

I found myself at the crossroads of faith and fear following a dream. A dream that was so vivid and real that I could almost feel the flickering warmth and fading light of the infant in my arms and shredding pains of a broken heart. The dream left a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t escape. Although I was only a few weeks along in my pregnancy, I knew my unborn child was a boy and that something was dreadfully wrong.

I survived the next few months of uncertainty with prayer. However, the reality of my dream was confirmed during a routine ultrasound as I watched the technician’s face – her smile faded as the conversation ceased. She excused herself and left the room. I turned to my husband, “Something is wrong with our baby. I’ve known it all along.” My husband had known it too. I was surprisingly calm as we learned about our son’s diagnosis of a potentially life threatening defect in his lung – the Lord had prepared me. 

I held my emotions in check for a few days (without shedding a single tear), but then doubt and worry crept in. I felt as though the Lord had given my family more than we could bear: my husband was without work, there were bills to pay, a larger vehicle to purchase, three young children to care for, not to mention the stress and uncertainty with our unborn son. I felt overwhelmed and defeated. Finally, I gave in. The dam broke and the tears burst forth. I sought refuge in my husband’s arms and found solace in his words, “We can only worry about the things that are in our control – turn the rest over to the Lord.”

It was then that I found myself at the crossroads of faith and fear. I had to choose which of these polar forces would govern my future course. I petitioned the Lord in prayer for direction and comfort, searched the scriptures for answers, had a long therapy session with my journal, and received a priesthood blessing. It was in those still, quiet moments that I was able to feel of my Heavenly Father’s love and concern for me. The storm inside me began to subside as the Lord whispered, “Peace, be still.” With renewed strength and fortitude, I chose the path of faith – to trust in the Lord’s plan for me, my family, and our son – regardless of what the outcome may be.

Faith and hope sustained me through an even darker storm when our son showed the early signs of heart failure while in-utero. Family, friends, and church members united in prayer and fasting. The Lord, in His infinite goodness and mercy, revealed His matchless love with a miracle.  Our son’s condition dramatically improved within a week. His heart returned to its normal position and the cysts began shrinking in his lung. I cried, but this time with tears of joy and gratitude. I felt as though the Lord had opened the windows of Heaven and was showering my family with blessings as our burdens were made light.

More trials came our way with our son’s birth and complications with his heart and lungs. Yet, I was continually sustained with faith and a feeling of peace that everything would be okay. We found it fitting to give our son Cole the middle name of Ishmael – which in Hebrew means “God hears.” Cole is a living testament that God hears and answers prayers and that miracles still occur in our day.

Through Cole, I have learned to “Be Still and Trust God” in all things. I know that Heavenly Father loves us. We are His children and He has a plan for our lives. If we allow ourselves to “Be Still,” He will whisper to our hearts those things that we desire to know and will encircle us in His everlasting arms of love. So when you find yourself at your own crossroads of faith and fear, I pray that you will choose faith. Faith allowed me the opportunity to drink from a well of spiritual strength I never knew I possessed and to come to know my Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, more intimately.

Dancing with FEAR

FEAR is an ugly four letter word that we inflict upon ourselves. It is something that has plagued mankind since the Fall of Adam and Eve. For some, fear is a constant companion, while for others, a mere acquaintance. Fear can be the paralyzer of life, an experience-crusher, and the thief of dreams. Fear has a way of creating obstacles that stand in the way of our progression. However, as we learn to dance with our fears and face them head on, we can become stronger, wiser, more confident, and better prepared for life’s challenges. The following experiences illustrate what I learned from dancing with FEAR.

THE PARALYZER OF LIFE:

High in the mountains on cool, crisp autumn day, I unknowingly waltzed with FEAR. My husband, our three older children, and I spent the day under the cotton candy clouds cutting and loading firewood onto the trailer. It was late in the afternoon; we were nearly done, when the chainsaw became sandwiched in a tree. We sent the kids to stand by the truck while Adam walked me (his mechanically-challenged wife) through the plan: I was to hold the chainsaw like so, pull it out when I felt the give in the tree, and then run swiftly to the right and out of the way.

My heart began to race as the adrenaline coursed through my veins. I took a deep breath, and carefully placed my hands on the chainsaw. He began to push the tree back and forth when suddenly I felt that give. I pulled the chainsaw out in one smooth motion, suddenly aware of the unfamiliar feel and weight of the chainsaw in my hands. Then I began to run with the speed of a gazelle in flight. My knees high, bounding over the dry leaves and fallen branches. My celebratory thoughts were interrupted with Adam - yelling at me. I was perplexed. Why was he yelling at me? Couldn’t he see how swift I was running with the chainsaw in perfect position? Confused and frustrated, the profanity spewed from me lips as I yelled, “Why are you yelling at me?” He yelled louder, more earnestly, with a look of helplessness on his face, “Move now!” Huh? I darted to the right and watched the tree crash down.

While driving home, Adam related to me what had occurred (from his perspective). I had followed steps one and two beautifully, but apparently failed miserably at step three: run swiftly out of the way. You see, fear wrapped it’s tentacles around my feet (and probably my mind) leaving me paralyzed, running in place, chainsaw in hand while Adam gazed helplessly at me. Fortunately, his loud voice was able to pierce through the veil of fear that was holding me captive. I narrowly missed being crushed by the tree. In that moment, I realized the paralyzing effects of fear and vowed to give more heed to directions and try to remain calm in stressful situations where I feel inadequate.

THE EXPERIENCE-CRUSHER:

 On a warm, sunny winter day, I attempted to Texas-two-step with FEAR and ended up in tears. To begin, I am not a fan of heights (at all). However, I decided to be brave and try skiing again. I felt confident as I cut back and forth down the bunny hill. However, that confidence vanished as I neared the ski lift. FEAR took the reigns (overriding common sense) - which lead me to NOT notice the lap bar - which INCREASED my anxiety and caused me to play out several scenarios of me plummeting to my death – which caused me to MISS the bright yellow sign explaining how to safely exit the ski lift – which led me to PANIC and ultimately caused me to crash as I JUMPED from the lift (skis and poles flying).

Shrouded in a wet, wool blanket of FEAR, my adventure down the mountain was terrifying! The sheer drop-off of the mountain within a 1/8 mile definitely didn’t help. I crashed several times over, struggled to get my skis back on and ended up slalom skiing a time or two down the mountain, and then there were TREES in the middle of the course! What the? Why would they do that? I was able to recall with perfect clarity the many stories I’ve read of people dying because they skied into a tree - which increased my ANXIETY even more! After several more falls, I had had enough. I took off my skis and WALKED down the rest of the mountain. Once I was safe on flat ground, the dam broke and the tears cascaded down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe how real the FEAR was and the control I had given it.

Following another round of tears, lunch, and comforting words from family, I decided to give it a go one more time. I couldn't leave knowing that I had quit and walked down the mountain. I charged the bunny hill and showed it a thing or two (and may have lost a pole and fallen over on the conveyor belt that pulls you up the little hill), but I gradually worked up the courage to try a green run again. The ride on the ski lift was less scary with a lap belt and I even managed to exit somewhat gracefully. My run down the mountain was marked with many falls (the ski patrol checking on me), some more slalom skiing, and a little walking, but I finished the run upright and on both skis. Nelson Mandela once said, “I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” I wouldn’t say I conquered FEAR, but I didn’t quit (even though I really, really wanted to), so therefore, I am brave. I gained greater personal insight that day and learned the value of laughter.

THE THIEF OF DREAMS:

“There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve:
the fear of failure.” -Paulo Coelho

Following an explosive creative session with my brother on a beautiful spring day, I began to tango with FEAR. Having talked about writing a book together for years, we were finally together brainstorming and doing something about it . . . it was both exciting and frightening. I began to realize that it is far easier to talk about something than to actually do it. Upon returning home, self-doubt and fear of failure swept in. Am I up for such a task? Do I even have the time? Am I a good enough writer? Where do I begin? What am I thinking – writing a book? Who would read it? What if I fail? If I fail, if reflects not only on me but also upon my brother . . . And so, my thoughts gave way to FEAR which gave way to excuses, inaction, and guilt. My notes have been collecting nothing but dust for the past month.

Yann Martel author of Life of Pi, said, “[Fear] goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unnerving ease. It begins in your mind, always ... so you must fight hard to express it. You must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it. Because if you don't, if your fear becomes a wordless darkness that you avoid, perhaps even manage to forget, you open yourself to further attacks of fear because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.”

I was talking with a dear friend the other day about my fears with the book. It was the first time I had voiced my concerns. She listened intently, offered insight, reassured me of my abilities, and then simply told me to start writing. Giving voice to my fears was quite liberating and empowering as I was no longer bound to FEAR like a slave, but free to pursue my dreams. Writing this piece has given me the clarity and the courage to pursue my dream. Therefore, I will follow the wise advice of my friend and start writing. I don’t have to have all the answers to my questions to begin. I just need to commence and cast the FEAR aside.

Is FEAR holding you back – paralyzing your life, crushing your experiences, or stealing your dreams? If so, then it is time to choose your definition of F-E-A-R:

Forget Everything And Run or Face Everything And Rise. 

The choice is yours.

It is my hope that we will rise and face our FEARS. In doing so, I know that we will become stronger, wiser, more confident, and better prepared for life’s challenges.   ~Love me~Kristen

MAGICAL MOMENTS . . .

There is a common misconception floating around that daily life is magical – the house is immaculate, the children perfectly behaved, dinners are gourmet, your spouse brings you flowers each day, you accomplish everything on your to-do list, and life is picture perfect . . . only life is rarely this way (at least for me). Most days my house is in disarray, dirty dishes are stacked in the sink, kids are screaming and/or crying, dinner is whatever we can put in a tortilla, my to-do list is crumpled under the stack of papers from school, and I am still in my yoga pants when my husband walks in the door. More often than not, life is ordinary as we simply run through the motions trying to take care of the countless have-to’s each day. If we’re not careful, we can find ourselves going through life on auto-pilot – not fully aware of the beauty around us, the power of human touch, or the joy to be had. I’ve come to the conclusion that while everyday life is not all that magical, there are magical moments in everyday life.

So how do we experience such magical moments in the busyness of life? We switch off auto-pilot, open our eyes, and become cognizant of the world around us.

I experienced a magical moment just the other night. Although, I was tired, dishes were stacked in the sink and I was adorned in my yoga pants, glasses, and pony tail – I took the opportunity to dance with my husband. I turned on my favorite song (the one that spoke the sentiments of my heart), took him by the hand, and said, “Dance with me.” He wrapped his arms around me and we slow-danced in the kitchen. Not a word was spoken as our hearts found rhythm with each other’s and we moved effortlessly across the wood floor. In that “moment,” it was as though time stood still – the stress, the struggles, and the worries of the day all melted away and were replaced with love – pure, sweet love. The tears silently fell as I burrowed my head into his chest. I was overcome with such admiration for my husband – the sacrifices he makes for our family, his honesty in telling me like it is, for the way he cares for our children, how he can frustrate me to tears, the security I feel in his arms, the way we laugh together, and the way he inspires me to be the best version of me. Within those four minutes, our hearts reconnected in the most magical of ways . . . without words. It was truly beautiful.

So when’s the last time you stopped to live in the “moment?” My challenge to you and me is this: stop feeding the misconception that everyday life is magical and start creating magical moments within everyday life. Find ways to connect with another person – take a walk together, play a game with your child, kneel in prayer with your spouse, watch birds together (if that’s your thing), watch the sunset – it doesn’t matter what you do – just be there 100%, no distractions. Upon doing so, record your experience, your thoughts and feelings, and then pay attention to your attitude the next few days. Yes, struggles will still exist, there will still be demands upon your time, and the never-ending to-do list, but there just might be a smile upon your lips, a skip in your step, and hope in your heart. It is such ‘moments” as slow dancing in the kitchen that can carry us through the darkest of storms to getting through the monotony of daily life. Let’s awaken to beauty and wonder around us and create magical moments with the ones we love most!

-Love me- Kristen

R.O.U.S. - AN INITIATION INTO COUNTRY LIVING

To preface this post: Gary Allan sang, "Life ain't always beautiful. Sometimes it's just plain hard. Life can knock you down . . ." The following experience wasn't beautiful. It was hard at the time and now, well, it's funny. This occurred some years ago following the birth of our third child. We had just moved to the farm and were living in 100+ years-old home. I was still adjusting to life in the country, when we encountered an R.O.U.S. (rodent of unusual size from The Princess Bride) It was the only time in my life, I wanted to pack my bags and run away . . .

 It was nearly midnight and my husband was doing work on the computer. I checked on my sleeping boys, kissed them goodnight, and proceeded into the living room when I heard the most unusual noise. I quickly took into account where everyone was - the boys were sleeping in their room, Adam was on the computer and my baby asleep in her bassinet. It clearly couldn't be any of them making such noises. I thought perhaps it was a mouse. I crept into the doorway of the kitchen and listened . . . there was that noise again - like a grunt and a thump. In an act of bravery, I turned on the light to find a . . .  rat - yes, a R-A-T!! That filthy varmint scurried across my kitchen floor and hid in the shadows behind the stove. I stifled a scream and bounded through the house, my feet barely touching the floor. Upon seeing Adam, I blurted out, "rat . . . kitchen . . . stove . . . kill it!"

Adam raced from his chair and into the kitchen. He grabbed the fire poker and began his noble quest to slay the rat. He got it cornered and then it disappeared. He raced to his parent's house and grabbed a few rat traps to place throughout the house. And then we waited . . . no movement for over half an hour. Sleep beckoned to us. I checked on the children again and said a special prayer that we would be watched over that night as the images from Lady and the Tramp of the rat and the baby haunted my dreams.

I was rudely and abruptly awaken to the sound of jars crashing to the ground in the pantry and Adam shouting, "You rat bastard, you son of a b-----, I'm gonna kill you!" It took me a few moments to figure out just where I was and what was going on. Adam called to me to come help him. Me? Help kill a rat? He told me to stand on a bucket and shine the flashlight on the rat while he ran to get his BB gun. In my sleepy trance, I hit my head on the doorway and choice words slipped from my lips, but I bravely held the flashlight until Adam returned. He returned gun in hand and took aim at the rat that was hiding behind a bucket. He hit him, but it didn't kill the stupid thing. Instead, the rat bolted and slipped through Adam's traps and back into the kitchen. How frustrating! Especially for Adam. He searched and searched for that rat for the next hour, but couldn't find him. We fell back into the most restless sleep.

We had hoped to find a dead rat in a trap, but no such luck. That morning over breakfast, I prayed that we could find "that" rat and kill it so that our house could be a clean house, a house of order. When I finished I looked up to see Adam with the biggest grin on his face. In response to my question as to why he was smiling, he replied, "I've never heard anyone pray to kill something, especially a rat." Well, I decided that we needed the Lord's help in ridding our house of this most unwelcome guest. Adam set more traps before he left that morning. I decided that I didn't want to be in our house that day. So I spent most of the day outside with the kiddos and ran errands in town. I prayed many times that day that we could find that rat and kill it, as did our three-year-old son. But to no avail, our prayers weren't answered that day. . .

The next morning, Adam woke me with a kiss and a smile as he left for work and asked, "Do you want to hear some great news?" He then told me about how he found "that" rat dead in one of our traps in the kitchen. I've never experienced such a joyful feeling as I did in that particular moment! I felt like breaking out into song, like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music, running down the road in my pj's singing, "We're still alive and 'that' rat is dead . . . " I know that God answered our prayers, helping us rid our house of that filthy varmint. We offered many prayers of gratitude as we scrubbed and sanitized the house again.

Unfortunately, our experience with the R.O.U.S was just the beginning. In the next week, I would discover that mice had invaded our storage shed - marked their territory, pooped on clothes, and chewed through blankets. At this point, I wanted to abandon life in the country all together - (irrational Kristen was at the wheel with her foot on the accelerator ready to put it in drive). Fortunately, my wise husband was able to talk me through our dilemma to help me see the good in these experiences. I thought of the experiences of Corrie ten Boom in The Hiding Place. She taught that we ought to give thanks in all things. She thanked the Lord for fleas while as a prisoner of war, not knowing until later that the fleas proved to be a blessing for her and others. (If you haven't read this book, you ought to. It is life-changing). I didn't give thanks for the rodents, but I did take time to ponder on the blessings our country life affords us. In doing so, I realized that, for us, this was the best place to raise our family (rodents and all).

 We also learned invaluable lessons: 1.) How to properly store things - Rubbermaid totes with the lids duct-taped shut. 2.) Install screen door to aid in keeping door closed because kids forget . . . everyday! 3.) How blessed we are that we have ways to rid our homes of varmint. 4.) We get to choose how we will respond to life's circumstances. 5.) God is aware of our concerns from the serious to the trivial. If it's important to us, it's important to Him. 6.) Outdoor cats are a great asset in controlling the population of rodents.


I consider that summer of the R.O.U.S.'s as my initiation into country living. Sure, it was a rather trying time for us - but I can laugh, and even smile, as I recount those long summer days. As Gary Allan sings, ". . . the struggles make you stronger. And the changes make you wise . . ." Those experiences (and countless others) have shaped me into the woman I am today and hopefully made me stronger and wiser. I thank God for such experiences. I still loathe rodents, but I LOVE our country life on the farm and know that it is the best place for our family.
 ~Love me~Kristen

You Might Be a Momma....

So it's late and I should be sleeping. Wish someone would inform my brain of that fact, because it won't go to sleep. Lucky for you, or not depending on how this post turns out.

I am a fan of Jeff Foxworthy. Maybe I shouldn't admit it, but his You Might Be lists crack me up. In honor of mothers everywhere on this our very favorite day, I give you this list. Now, these may or may not be actual events from my life, but only I will know for sure.

YOU MIGHT BE A GOOD MOMMA IF:

• You skipped your daughter's band concert to attend book club, then felt guilty as the discussion centered on the really wonderful mother figure who did everything for her surrogate children.
• You reached out to comfort your distressed son in your warm embrace, only to have him vomit all over you. 
• Your husband put you in "time out" during a LOVELY (Do you hear the sarcasm there??) Family Home Evening because of your raging pregnancy hormones. (In my defense, no woman is safe from crazy prego hormones.) Thankfully, said husband lived to see another day.
• You have a secret stash of chocolate that you never, ever share with your children.
• Your daughter informed her brand-new, never met before teacher that she helps mom with the new baby by bringing mom the BREAST PADS.
• You sometimes hide in the bathroom and pretend you don't hear those kiddos fighting while you read a book.
• You let the dishes, laundry, homework, bills and dinner go undone as you read a book, sew a quilt, or okay, I admit it, scroll Facebook.
• You were OH SO THANKFUL for your newborn babe, especially in that moment when that shirt that was maybe still a little too small after pregnancy popped all its buttons during Sunday School.  
• You have fed your kiddos Little Caesar's pizza straight from the box in your giant blue van as you watched one of them practice softball in the rain.
• You were belting out the lyrics to your favorite Bruno Mars and your daughter informed you that "your sex takes me to paradise"  was not a good song, Mom. 
• You have pulled clothes out of the dirty laundry hamper, sniffed to make sure they didn't smell too bad, and then sent your daughter on her merry way to school.
• You have found out on the last day of the quarter that your child was FAILING three classes and your response to them was: WHAT THE HE$#!!!
• You have stopped on the side of the road  in the rain more times than you can count to help a toddler go pee. Also you have probably ended up with said pee on your shoe (more than once).
• You celebrated the drowning of a beetle in urine on your FRONT PORCH because it was the first time your boy had actually wanted to pee all by himself. 
• You have cried for, prayed for, and wrung your hands in despair over your kids.
• You have looked at yourself and felt inadequate, or like a failure, and wondered what in the world God was thinking giving you this sacred responsibility.
• You have taken a nap in the blanket fort while the kids watched cartoon after cartoon after cartoon.
• You have held your newborn babe, and realized that you were part of a miracle...

On this day, mommas, I hope that you will read this and smile. I pray that you will see what a blessing you are. I pray that you will have joy in your home, and in your children. That you will be grateful for the journey that is motherhood. ~Kim

What Makes a Mother?

It is here, it comes every year, without fail.That dreaded day that mothers all over the world cringe at. Yes, you guessed it: Mother's Day. And why do we dread it you ask? Simply because we allow ourselves to look at every other mother in the world and compare their flowers to our weeds. We see their beautiful new dress, their lovely curls, their sweet, reverent children sitting there in the pew at church. Then we look at our little flock, and we see a wrinkled blouse with spit-up stains, hair that hasn't been out of a ponytail in two months, whiny, fighting children who probably won't last through the opening hymn, let alone through all those talks about all those wonderful mothers. And we allow ourselves to feel inadequate, worse, like the worst mother in the world. We wonder why in the world God would entrust us with His precious children, because, clearly, we are not up to the task He has given us. Please tell me I am not the only one who has felt this way.

Why do we do this? Why do we allow Satan into our heads? Why do we let him beat us up, tell us we aren't good enough, we can't possibly succeed? Why do we feel like if we aren't mothering perfectly every minute of every single day that we are failures? More importantly, how do we stop? How do we become the mothers that God would have us be?

The answer is simple my friends, and it is right in front of you. In fact, it is staring right back at you when you look in the mirror. Please start seeing the beauty and good in the mother that YOU already are, instead of wishing and hoping and trying to be like Sister Jones, or Sister Smith. God knew what He was doing when He placed those precious children in your arms, and He still does. He knew you would make mistakes, that you wouldn't be perfect. He knew you would lose your temper, lose your patience, even sometimes falter in your faith. He knew you might (would) yell, maybe even swear when your patience was worn thin.  He knew you would get frustrated and angry, and sometimes lose your head (maybe even box an ear or two). He also knew you would repent, improve, and try a little harder to be better at this, the hardest, most noble of jobs.

I posed this question on Facebook today: What makes a good mother? I asked my friends to list one or two characteristics that good mommas possess. I was surprised how varied the responses were.  I heard great attributes like patience, a sense of humor, dedication, courage, wisdom, personal sacrifice and faithfulness just to name a few. But one stood out to me from all the rest, LOVE.

My friend Laura said this," We can look and "measure" how "good" we are, but in the end pure love is what makes a good mom. Not how good they cook our how fun of parties they throw, but love...A mother's love is what you feel when you need it most...a mother's love is what makes her a mother."

As I looked over the varied responses I received, I realized that my friends were listing different attributes of that same characteristic, LOVE. They were, in fact, stating the ways that they show or have felt love in their own lives. So what makes a good mother? That thing you already do so well, LOVING your kids, in the unique way that only you can do. Why did God place your children in your home? Because He knew what YOU could do, He knew the influence that you could be. He knew that NOBODY could take your place. That NOBODY could love your children better than you.

Marjorie Pay Hinckley says it better than me, in this my most favorite of all mom quotes:"There is no such thing as the perfect mother..We just do the best we can with the help of the Lord, and who knows, these children who are struggling to be free may someday rise up and call us blessed."

May you have a beautiful, not dreaded, Mother's Day, and may you know that God knows what He is doing, and He did not send you here to fail. May you celebrate the beautiful momma that you already are, and find joy and rejoicing in your children, today, and every day. ~Kim

MORE THAN ENOUGH

For all the mamas out there who carried a baby in their womb - who watched their bellies expand, their hips widen, the number on the scale creep up, the tiger stripes appear, and felt the first flicker of life within; for those mamas who experienced the devastating events of a miscarriage again and again; for those mamas whose arms ache and long to hold a baby, but are not able to conceive; for those mamas who opened their hearts to love a child not of their flesh; for those mamas who are not "technically" mamas but love, teach, nurture, and make the world a little brighter for a child; for those mamas who are in desperate need of sleep and long for a nap; for those mamas who are nursing sweet babies, changing diapers, and drying tears; for those mamas who are battling with a defiant toddler day in and day out; for those mamas who cried as they sent their child off to kindergarten; for those mamas who care for their chronically ill child; for those mamas with broken hearts who have had to bury a child; for those mamas who help with homework and in the classroom; for those mamas who stay-at-home and long for adult interaction; for those mamas who work outside the home and try to balance it all; for those mamas who have teenagers and feel under-appreciated; for those mamas who are empty-nesters; for those mamas who are now grandmas; for those mamas who long for sticky kisses, hand prints on the wall, and a sleeping baby on their chest; for those mamas who lay awake with worry for the future; for those mamas who feel overwhelmed, stressed, and alone; for those mamas whose husbands work late or out-of-town, for those mamas whose husbands serve in the military; for those mamas who are doing it alone - trying to fulfill the role of both father and mother; for those mamas whose favorite time of the day is when all the kids are asleep and the house is finally quiet; for those mamas who sacrifice their interests for the betterment of the family; for those mamas who long to go to the bathroom, shower, or change their clothes without the paparazzi of children in tow; for those mamas who have a wayward child; for those mamas who long to be as "fat" as they thought they were in high school; for those mamas who feel like they are drowning in the sea of life; for those mamas who feel that they don't measure up, that they're not good enough, skinny enough or pretty enough; for those mamas who feel like they don’t deserve to be celebrated on Mother’s Day . . .

TO ALL THE MAMAS OUT THERE - YOU ARE ENOUGH! YOU ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH. YOU ARE A DAUGHTER OF GOD. HE LOVES YOU. HE DESIRES YOUR HAPPINESS. HE CRIES WHEN YOU CRY. OUR HEAVENLY FATHER LONGS TO HEAR FROM YOU, COMFORT YOU, WRAP YOU IN HIS ARMS AND TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, IMPORTANT. AND DOING A WONDERFUL WORK!

Motherhood sure isn't easy. It's by far the hardest thing I have ever done. No one explains how difficult and trying it's going to be and if they did - I don't think we'd listen. It's hard to find adequate words to describe the wonder of motherhood. The highlights, the exquisite joy, the perks of motherhood come in all shapes and sizes in the various seasons of life - from a baby nuzzling against your neck, her soft breath on your skin, her sweet "baby smell," her breathing finding rhythm with your own; to your toddler singing you "Su-shine" and gently caressing your face as he drifts off to sleep; to being slapped with kisses, wrapped in hugs, and told, I Love You Mom; to watching your son “shake it” in an attempt to make you smile when you are sad and hurting; to hugging your son/daughter for the first time after an extended time away. These “moments” and countless others, triumph the heartache, the stress, and sleepless nights that come with motherhood. The days may be long, but the years are short.

I tip my hat to all the mothers out there - you are better than you think you are and you are doing an amazing job! The likelihood of your children ending up on a psychologist’s couch discussing what you believe to be your “many failings as a mother” is highly unlikely. Give yourself a break. God entrusted these precious children to you because He knew YOU were the best fit for them. Take comfort in knowing that we’re not in this alone, Heavenly Father will guide us, if we but ask. After all, He knows our children better than we do.

So dear mamas, be YOU - beautiful, perfectly imperfect you! I give you permission to enjoy Mother’s Day this year. Stop comparing yourself to the fictitious “perfect mother” of your imagination and celebrate the amazing opportunity you have to love and be loved in return. And remember YOU ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH! Happy Mother's Day!

~Love me~ Kristen

Be Consistent at Being You

            In today's world of social media with Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest, we are constantly bombarded with images of perfection, from our homes and decor to our bodies and fashion to family life with matching clothes and well-mannered children to traveling the world. It can be difficult to stand firm and not get swept up in the whirlwind of competition and the notion that the grass is greener on the other side. I personally feel that men and women today have never felt worse about themselves – viewing themselves and their lives as inferior compared to the snippets and snapshots of friends, family, and even complete strangers. Bryan Arzani, boldly stated, “Stop trying to be something you’re not. Instead, be consistent at being you.” So, who are you?

“…you are the most valuable treasure on the face of the earth, for you know who created you and there is only one of you. Never in all the nearly 70 billion humans who have walked this planet since the beginning of time has there been anyone exactly like you.

 Never, until the end of time will there be another such as you. With all the combinations at [God’s] command . . . [He] could have created three hundred     thousand billion humans, each different from the other.

 But who did [He] bring forth?You! One of a kind. Rarest of the rare. A priceless treasure, possessed of qualities in mind and   speech and movement and appearance and actions as no other has ever lived, lives, or shall live.”   -Og Mandino 

            We are sons and daughters of God with endless potential and unique gifts and talents. He has an individualized plan for our lives. With that knowledge, why do we strive to be someone we’re not? Why do we hide behind a mask and a smile that all is well in our world, while we silently suffer and long for a hand to hold? Does it really matter if your house looks like a tornado just ripped through it, while your friend’s house looks like it was torn from the pages of the latest Pottery Barn catalog? No! Let us let go of comparison and focus our efforts on becoming a better version of ourselves by being open and honest.

            This blog is our way of putting the “REAL” back in reality. From my experience I’ve concluded that life can be messy and challenging, but it can also be beautiful and filled with joy. I invite you to laugh, sigh, roll your eyes, and cry with me as I share my life experiences – real, raw, honest, and unfiltered.  Along the way, you might recognize a version of yourself, find the strength to hold on a little longer, and discover your own  talents. It’s time to get real!

Love me-Kristen