A season of preparation, and finally, Easter

The past few seasons have been like a whirlwind. I got married and had a baby in the same week. My in-laws stayed with us for an extended visit to help after James was born. Lent started, we worked on getting the house cleaned and organized. My country focused on who would be the next president. My toddler adjusted (or is adjusting?) to life with her new brother. I am adjusting to being a new wife. I had my first hours, days, and weeks as a stay at home mother of two.

And through it all, I’ve had these feelings, these unshakeable intuitions. I didn’t want to talk about them at first, because… well, I felt like they were whisperings of the Holy Spirit and that those precious, mystical intuitions were something to keep hush about. And not just because people would look at me like I’m crazy if I went around talking about how God was nudging me.

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So starting this winter I had this intuition, this whisper inside me saying: prepare. I didn’t know what I was preparing for. I tried to prepare mentally, spiritually, and outwardly. I tried to live simply and minimize my life, get organized, donate old clothes. Change can be big and scary, but since I had this gentle and comforting warning, I felt at peace with whatever Big Change might come next. I wondered what it might be. I didn’t take myself too seriously, because you never know how reliable these kinds of intuitions are. But it felt reliable. So I watched, I waited. It was Lent, so I prayed and I spent less time on social media and more time with my children.

On the eve of the terrorist attack in Belgium, I had a nightmare. I don’t remember the details but I knew it was big and bad and that everything would change and my nightmare gave me the day: Easter Sunday. I woke up sort of skeptically terrified. I knew that it was just a dream. But I feared there would be a huge terrorist attack, or that a loved one would die, or that something would happen to me or Bodie or my children. Have you ever had a dream like that? Where you know that it’s just a dream and yet you can’t shake the feeling of, “What if it isn’t”?

So, I tried not to obsess. I stared at my babies beautiful faces more and spent even less time on the internet. I cried and I prayed. (Postpartum hormones anyone?) I told myself, it is just a dream. After a day or two I moved on and worried about it less often. Then I read this article and realized: these feelings and intuitions are about this liturgical season. My children weren’t going to die, Jesus was.

No giant worldly change was coming. It hit me like a ton of bricks, Lent is supposed to be a season of spiritual preparation. Good Friday is supposed to be big and horrible and tragic and devastating. My heart broke for Mary, who must have known what was coming for her son. Who had to watch her baby be strung up and crucified and ridiculed and tortured and killed. But then I was filled with the peace and joy of the resurrection, of Easter Sunday coming, and because of this, we are safe. Saved.

Realizing this all made me think wow, is this some kind of liturgical seasonal affective disorder? Some bad postpartum anxiety? But I think not. It isn’t a disorder, it’s a blessing. It is something that I’ve prayed for — to be closer to Jesus and experience his experiences, even those that are painful.

God is good, and when we pray to be close to Him, he draws us near in unexpected ways.

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Family homeschooling, thrush, and successful homemade pizza

This post contains Amazon Affiliate links, which basically means if you buy something from Amazon after clicking my link, I get a small commission. All thoughts, opinions, etc. are honest and my own.

1. homeschooling successes

Miriam can find Waldo. All credit to her, and to Grandma who introduced Miri to the Where’s Waldo book. Last night she also had much success with the Highlights version of this game, and seems to finally be old enough for some of the stories and activities in the magazine. Bodie’s teaching addition and subtraction, and we’re also learning about color patterns using these big blocky lego things.

2. thrush

We’ve got it, or at least James does. I hear it’s really hard to get rid of? How bad is this going to get folks? So far, we’re all fine, James is taking medicine and I’ll eat some extra yogurt or something.

3. family time outside

flag outdoor spring playhouse toddler
and some good ol’ fashioned patriotism
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Bedrest, burgers, and baby’s first ornament

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Saturday

Healthy foods! My OB wanted me to start eating healthier, so I sauteed some chicken breast and put it in one of those southwest salad packs. It was actually delicious, and we will likely be having this again. Unfortunately my healthy eating kick sort of dwindled this week as other health problems popped up *spoiler alert: I’m very, probably, totally fine* and I am glad to have a chicken over salad dinner “recipe” that we all like in my arsenal.

Sunday

Got very dizzy and short of breath in church, and had to stay seated most of the time since I was afraid I’d get worse and pass out. Made it up for communion and then dodged out of there before I got too bad to drive home. Made it home, and Bodie came down and got Miriam and I out of the car. Laid around trying to recover, but had several more dizzy / short of breath spells and so Bodie ordered some take out for dinner.

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Building your personal parenting style + a giveaway!

Disclaimer: Family Christian sent me a copy of Mothering From Scratch to review. They are also providing the winners of the giveaway with copies of the book. All thoughts, opinions, etc. are honest and my own.


 

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When I first had a baby, I knew that I knew nothing. Yet everything seemed to come fairly easily. Some nurse told me to follow my instincts, and I did. I’m not saying there weren’t challenges, but Miriam was a very easy baby. Like Melinda, one of the authors of “Mothering From Scratch”, I ended up thinking that I just naturally was awesome at parenting. I had all the answers — until suddenly I didn’t.

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Annunciations about enunciation, 7 quick takes

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Moving. Moving, moving, moving. Everything is quiet around the blog because I’m in a pregnant flurry of many loads of laundry and packing. We’re moving Nov. 1, to a house that is so many kinds of perfect.

I am a little sad to leave our apartment; it’s been our home for a few wonderful years, and though it only has one bathroom and requires that I walk down an outdoor flight of stairs with toddler everytime I want to go somewhere, it has been a great home.

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