He will meet your needs

On Thanksgiving day, when my heart should have been overflowing with gratitude for the many blessings that God has poured out in my life, there was a battle taking place in my mind.

It went something like this –

Thank you, God, for our home.  (What if we can’t afford to stay in our home for much longer?)

Thank you, God, for plenty of food to eat.  (What if we won’t have enough food next month?)

And so it went, all day long, thankfulness and anxiety battling it out in my head.  Until, finally, the anxiety won out and my mind was clouded with thoughts of worry and doubt.

This is a lean season for our family.  We’re making big financial sacrifices so that I can stay at home with Little Man, and sometimes the weight of these sacrifices seems almost too much to bear.

And yet …

Abundance.

This is the plentiful feast we enjoyed on Thanksgiving day.

And yet …

Joy.

These are the boys I get to love and serve each day.  What did I do to deserve such blessing?

The enemy seeks to steal my joy.  He whispers lies, plants seeds of doubt, and sometimes … yes, sometimes I give in.

And yet …

Truth.

“And my God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19)

This is a promise we can stand on, mamas!  If you’re worried, if you’re wondering whether God will meet your needs … Know this.

He has, He is, and He will!

God bless,
Megan

Growing Home

Thanks, Giving

I had a plan for this morning.

God had other plans for me.

The Thanksgiving grocery shopping, trip to the post office, credit union errand … these will all have to wait, because Little Man is sick with a fever.

So I will wrap him up in his blankie and hold him close as we watch this Thomas the Tank Engine video for the fifth time in two days.  And I will breathe in his cinnamon-and-baby soap smell and kiss the top of his sweet downy head, and I will give thanks.

I will give thanks … and trust God for the time to tackle my to-do list.

God bless,
Megan

 

Just Me, Just Right

Back in junior high, I wanted to be perfect like Caroline Massier.

She was a size zero; I was somewhere near a size eight.  And by “somewhere near,” I mean more in the neighborhood of a size ten.

Her tan, toned legs hinted at summers spent playing tennis and laying out by the pool.  My pasty white legs, on the other hand, told of summers spent watching reruns of Saved by the Bell and reading Sweet Valley High.  Not that I’d be caught dead wearing shorts, mind you.

Caroline was sporting Abercrombie and Fitch clothes back when you had to drive all the way into Chicago to get them.  Meanwhile, my wardrobe consisted of whatever my stepmom happened to toss into the cart while she was at K-Mart stocking up on Aqua Net.

I know, I know.  Caroline Massier wasn’t perfect, she just seemed perfect.

My grown-up mind knows this.  My heart, however, isn’t entirely convinced.

Because at 28 years old, I still catch myself doing the she’s-so-perfect thing.  Except now, instead of the most popular girl at school, it’s the coolest mom at playgroup.

I catch myself wanting to be perfect like that mom — the one whose kid has never even heard of Sid the Science Kid because he doesn’t watch television.  The one who somehow managed to do her hair and make-up this morning.

And I am weary.  Burdened by wanting to be someone other than who I was created to be.

God whispered this to my heart today –

Megan, my daughter …
I have searched you and I know you.
I know when you sit and when you rise.
I perceive all your thoughts.
I know when you go out and when you lie down.
I am familiar with all your ways.
For I created your inmost being.
I knit you together in your mother’s womb.
You can praise me, because I made you — fearfully and wonderfully.
And my works are wonderful; you know that full well.
Your frame was not hidden from me when I made you in the secret place.
When I wove you together, my eyes saw your unformed body.
All the days ordained for you, daughter, were written in my book before one of them came to be.”
(paraphrased from Psalm 139)

So today, I will be glad for my pasty white beautiful ivory skin.  I will praise God for creating me and for knowing me through and through.  And I will thank Him that he chose me — just me — to be this man’s wife and this little boy’s mama.  And I will trust Him for the grace to be the woman He created me to be.

Have you ever struggled with comparing yourself to other mamas?  I’d love to hear your heart.

God bless,
Megan

Discipline … it’s hard

I struggle … oh, how I struggle … with discipline.

I’m not talking about disciplining my 19-month old, although that’s not always easy.  I’m talking about being disciplined in my own life.

Whether it’s making time to read my Bible and pray, or committing to (and sticking with!) an exercise regimen, or waking up early so I can get my day off to a good start.

I just. Can’t. Seem. To get my act together.

Maybe this is why God’s word says –

“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.” (Hebrews 12:11)

I want a harvest of righteousness and peace, for myself and for my family!

This post from Inspired to Action totally encouraged me today.

I’m praying for the strength to “just show up.”  How ’bout you?

God bless,
Megan

Update — Day 2 of the Sock Bun

Yesterday I provided a glowing review of the sock bun curling method.

Today I must provide an update that’s … um, not so glowing.

I did the sock bun again last night, and I woke up this morning looking like Hermione in her first year at Hogwarts.  (Not a Harry Potter fan?  I’m talking about big, frizzy, poofy hair.)

I managed to wrangle the poof into a pony tail, so the hair day wasn’t a total loss.  I now resemble a bushy-tailed squirrel instead.  :)

So I’m trying to figure out why my first sock bun attempt resulted in pretty flowing curls, and my second sock bun attempt resulted in a frizzy, poofy mess.

The first time, I had blow-dried my hair straight earlier that morning, so I was rolling smooth hair into the sock bun.

The second time, I had let my hair dry naturally, so I was rolling wavy hair into the sock bun.

I’m thinking the sock bun only works well on hair that’s straight to begin with.  Have you tried it yet?  How’d it work out for you?

God bless,
Megan

 

 

How to get gorgeous curls while you sleep (it’s sooo easy!)

I was wasting spending time on Pinterest the other day, and I discovered a positively magnificent hair styling method for exhausted stay-at-home moms.

(Yeah, that’s right, I just used “magnificent” in a sentence that had nothing to do with magicians.  I was an English major; I can’t help myself.)

This method:

  • creates beautiful flowing curls
  • only takes 1 minute
  • uses no heat
  • uses no styling products
  • is so easy anyone (yep, even a mama who’s running on 2 hours of sleep) can do it

I’m sure the suspense is killing you, so here it is.

Sock bun.  (Click here to find out how to do it.)

Sounds weird, I know.  Here’s the gist.  You use a rolled-up sock to put your hair into a bun (hence the term “sock bun”), sleep on it, wake up, remove the sock bun, and voila!  Gorgeous curls.

I know, it sounds too good to be true.  And as we all know, things that sound too good to be true usually are.

But I decided there’s no harm in giving it a try.  And I was totally surprised by the results.

It actually works. 

Here’s what my hair looked like after a night of sleeping in my sock bun.

No product in my hair, no curling iron, nada.   And the best part?  The curls held all day long.

I don’t know about you, but I’m too busy trying to make sure Little Man doesn’t choke on a grape to spend 45 minutes blowing out my hair and curling it to perfection.  And yet … somehow, the wet-hair-in-a-ponytail look just isn’t cutting it anymore.

Now, I realize that what works for my hair won’t necessarily work for yours.   My hair is fine, naturally wavy, tends to frizz, and is highly damaged by years of coloring and heat styling.  I’m not sure how the sock bun would work for a straight-haired gal.

Are you brave enough to give the sock bun a try?  I’d love to hear if it works for you.

God bless,
Megan

– UPDATE: The second time I did the sock bun, I woke up and my hair was a hot (frizzy) mess!  Find out why. –

I’m linked up over at Domestically Divine Tuesday and Teach Me Tuesdays!


Growing Home

No Love for the Llamas

I love llamas.

Not in a casual, llamas-are-neat-animals kind of way.

But in a 12-year-old-girl-at-a-Justin-Bieber-concert kind of way.

Some girls have Bieber Fever; I have Llama Love.

Senior year of high school, when my friends’ bedroom walls were adorned with the likes of *N SYNC and Backstreet Boys, I had this hanging over my bed.

Photo credit: weheartit.com

I’m completely aware that this weird.  And no, I don’t know why llamas make me so happy.  They just do.

God, of course, knows this about me.  And because He loves me so much, He’s been known to randomly drop a llama into my day, just to put a smile on my face.  :)

Once, back in college, my sister and I were in Illinois visiting our dad for the summer.  We got lost out in the boonies and were trying to make our way out of the corn fields and back to civilization when we came across a farm with a big “Animal Talent Show” sign prominently displayed and — I’m not making this up — a gorgeous white llama out front.

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.  We pulled over, naturally, and the animal talent show people graciously let us hang out with the llama.  I remember that her name was Aphrodite, although her talent now escapes me.  As far as I’m concerned, her talent was being awesome.

So yeah … I love llamas.

But Little Man?  Not so much.

We recently had one of those sparkling golden days that make fall in New England so legendary, and I decided it was a perfect day for apple cider donuts, hay mazes and the like.  I spent some time poking around online and found a farm in our area that featured not only all of the classic fall activities, but also — get this — a petting zoo with llamas.

Oh yeah, we are so there.

So imagine my astonishment when we arrived at the farm and I discovered that Little Man had not one iota of interest in the llamas.  Not even a smidgeon of an interest in any of the animals, for that matter.

He zoomed right past the cute and cuddly farm animals without so much as a backward glance, and all my attempts to interest him — Ooh, look at this baby llama, isn’t he fluffy?  These are mama’s favorite! — were met with a scowl and a firm “no.”

Hay throwing, mud romping and tractor watching.  This is how we spent our time at the farm that day.

Part of me was so bummed that my son doesn’t share my passion for llamas.  I probably should have been thinking, Oh, thank God, he’s normal.

But instead, I was thinking, I carried you for nine months and nursed you for a year and you can’t even spend two seconds petting this stinkin’ llama?

And then I got over it and took a big jump into the haystack.

Because my son is his own person, completely individual, made by God with his own unique likes, dislikes, strengths and weaknesses.  And it’s my job, my sacred responsibility as his mama to know his heart and foster his God-given gifts and talents.

And I’m learning, with His help, to lay down my own selfish ambitions and “train him up in the way he should go” (Proverbs 22:6).

Have you ever realized that your little one is his own person who doesn’t necessarily share your interests?  I’d love to hear how you handled it.

God bless,
Megan

I’m linked up over at The Time-Warp Wife!

What Your Man Wants Most of All (It’s Not What You Think)

Do you love your husband?

If you’re like me, you’re thinking, uh, yeah, Megan.  Of course I love my husband.

So you sent him off to work this morning with a sweet kiss and a lovingly prepared homemade lunch.  So you sent him an e-mail letting him know you’re thinking of him.  So you did his laundry and rolled his clean underwear burrito-style, instead of folding them neatly like a sane person would do … because that’s the way he likes it.

Okay, so far, so good.  But how about this…

Do you respect your husband?

In the book For Women Only, Shaunti Feldhahn surveyed men to find out the inner workings of the male mind.  And here’s what she found.  If forced to choose between feeling unloved and feeling disrespected, three out of four men would rather feel unloved than disrespected.

Did you get that, dear one?  Your man would rather know that you respect him than know that you love him.

I cringe as I write this.  Because although I do a pretty good job of showing my husband I love him, I know that I sometimes fall short in the respect department.

See, I respect my husband immensely.  He’s the strongest, smartest, most capable (not to mention dreamiest) man I know.  But sometimes I make comments that unintentionally convey otherwise.

Here’s a recent example.  At some point during the annoyingly long power outage that we recently endured, I made an off-handed comment.

“I’d feel so much better about this whole power outage thing if we had family close by.”

I had no idea at the time, but my words hurt my dear husband.

My female brain was totally confused by this.  I didn’t mean anything by it!  I just meant that it would be nice to be able to stay with relatives who might have power or a back-up generator! 

He later explained to me that my words implied a lack of trust.  It seemed like I was doubting his ability to take care of our family in a crisis.  He felt disrespected, and it stung.

“The wife must respect her husband.” (Ephesians 5:33b)

Yep, the Bible couldn’t be more clear about this one.

Here are three simple ways that we, as wives, can actively respect our husbands:

  • Submit to him (Ephesians 5:22).  In the big things, in the little things, submit to his leadership and honor his decisions.  Is this easy?  No.  But it is God’s way, and you may have figured out by now that God’s ways usually require His help.  Ask Him for help in submitting to your husband.  It’s a prayer that He’s sure to answer.
  • Encourage, don’t criticize (Proverbs 25:24).  Look for opportunities to praise your husband.  Does he take out the trash every day?  Tell him how much you appreciate it.  And if there’s something you’d like for him to change, do not give in to the temptation to criticize him.  Instead, take it to the Lord and ask the Holy Spirit to motivate your man in this area.  (Courtney over at Women Living Well has some great thoughts on how to communicate your needs to your husband in a respectful way.)
  • Trust him.  Your husband wants to know you think he’s The Man.  He wants to be your knight in shining armor, the strong one who can fix every problem and conquer every obstacle.

Today, when you would normally tell your husband you love him, say “I respect you,” instead.  Watch his eyes light up.

God bless,
Megan

How to Beat the Stay-At-Home Mom Blues

Of course you’ve heard of the “baby blues” — the wild mood swings and weepy hysteria that new mamas get to enjoy after giving birth, courtesy of our rapidly changing hormones.

But there’s another, lesser known  type of “blues” that we usually don’t talk about — the stay-at-home mom blues.

A brand new at-home mama experiences a complete lifestyle change that can make her feel like her whole world just turned upside down.

I’ve been there, believe me.  In my first months at home with Little Man, I often felt completely alone and overwhelmed.

Here’s my advice to help you ease the transition.

1.  Get out.

For the first six months of Little Man’s life, I stuck to his nap schedule with unyielding commitment.  He was just emerging from the colic phase and was very sensitive to becoming overtired.  His maximum wake-time was 1 hour and 5 minutes, and nothing — neither play date nor grocery store run — was worth putting him down for his nap ten minutes too late and risking him becoming overtired.

In hindsight, it was definitely important to keep Little Man’s wake-times short and to get him down for his naps on time, but I should have loosened the reins occasionally to allow myself a much-needed mental break.  Sometimes a little Target trip does a mama good.

God created you as a relational being with a real need for fellowship.  Give yourself permission to meet a girlfriend for coffee.  Or convince the hubby to take you out to that little Greek restaurant you two used to frequent when you were hip young newlyweds.  Remember The Giving Tree?  It is not selfish — I repeat, it is not selfish — to take care of yourself.

2.  Stay in.

Most of my girlfriends aren’t parents, and once Little Man was born, I began to long for relationships with other new mamas who could relate to what I was going through.

I joined my local MOMS Club, a support group for stay-at-home moms.  My chapter is very active, with a play group,  museum outing or playground meet-up scheduled for just about every day.  It’s been great to connect with other new moms, and I love all the opportunities to get Little Man out of the house.

But … I’m a homebody by nature.  I need a lot of home time to feel balanced, and if I have too many activities outside the home, I get stressed.

If you’re like me, and the thought of too many outside activities makes your blood pressure rise, give yourself permission to recharge your batteries in the cozy comfort of home.

3.  Go easy on yourself. 

You’re different now.  You’re not the same woman you were before you were a stay-at-home mom, and it can take some time to adjust.

So maybe your baby is eating pureed carrots from a jar instead of homemade organic kale.  And maybe you can’t remember the last time you actually blow-dried your hair.  And maybe the leftovers in your fridge no longer resemble food.

Give yourself a break, mama.  You’re going through a major life transition, and all things considered, you’re handling it pretty darn well.

4.  Get on your knees.  

After Little Man was born, I was so caught up in the frenzy of feedings, diaper changes and soothing him to sleep every other hour that I neglected to spend time with God.

God understands, I thought.  This is just a season in my life, and when things settle down, I’ll get back on track with Him.

I was partially right.  It was just a season.  But it was a season in which I needed Jesus more than ever.

I love what author Beth Moore has to say about prayer –

“The path to peace is paved with knee prints.”

She is so right.  I lacked peace as a new mother, not only because I was getting all of three hours of sleep a night, but because my spirit was longing for the Prince of Peace.

I want to encourage you to spend time with Jesus.  Even if it’s for two minutes.  Get alone with God, get on your knees, and let His sweet presence surround you and His peace wash over you.

God bless,
Megan

 

We Made It Four Days Without Power … Oh Yeah, We Did

What a whirlwind these past several days have been.

On Saturday, our state was hit by a freak October snowstorm that knocked out power to almost a million people.

Our neighborhood was a disaster zone of fallen trees and downed power lines, and based on the news we were getting over our battery-operated radio, this was the largest power outage Connecticut had ever experienced.  We could expect to be without power for a long time.

Panic set in almost immediately, as Mister and I wondered how we would survive 20-degree nighttime temperatures … with a baby.

Our options were limited.  We have no family nearby, and most of our friends were sitting in the dark just like we were.

Thankfully, we had a fireplace in our living room and enough firewood to last us a few days.

God provides.

Mister worked tirelessly, chopping and hauling firewood and tending the fire every hour, around the clock.

We packed on the layers — at one point, Little Man could barely move, he was bundled up so well — and camped out in our living room with the fireplace blazing.

But by the fourth day, thing were starting to look desperate.  We were almost out of firewood, and the new firewood that Mister had obtained was wet … meaning it would burn poorly, if at all.

And that’s when a good friend of mine called to check on us and offered to take us into her (fully powered) home for the day.

God provides.

We spent the afternoon at our friends’ home, taking hot showers, eating a hot meal, drinking hot beverages, and even doing a load of laundry.

Sitting on their couch, all warm and cozy, I realized I didn’t want to brave another night of freezing temperatures.  Little Man was starting to show the first signs of getting sick, and I had reached my limit of being cooped up in our (now exceedingly smoky) living room.

Our friends offered to let us stay with them, but we didn’t want to burden them with an out-of-sorts and possibly sick baby, so I took advantage of their internet access and booked us a hotel room.

It took some searching to find a place that had power and that wasn’t completely booked, but I finally found us a room at a hotel over an hour away.

God provides.

Mister decided to stay home, so Little Man and I packed our bags and headed out to the hotel.

We were fifteen minutes away from the hotel when Mister called.

“Guess who’s power just came back on?”

God provides.

It was a stressful, trying, challenging four days, and through it all, God was good.  And as I sit now in my warm house, enjoying the many comforts that electricity allows us, I have a renewed sense of gratitude for the “little things” that really aren’t so little after all.

A warm cup of coffee.  A hot shower.  Clean clothes.

God provides.

Are you in the midst of a trial, dear mama?

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:25-26)

If you’re sitting in darkness today wondering how you’ll make it through, call upon the God who provides.  He promises to meet all your needs (Philippians 4:19).

God bless,
Megan