In My Feelings…if Drake can sing about it, I can write about it.

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WHY. THE. HELL can’t i commit to writing on this blog more than once a year/every pregnancy I have? God. I’m annoyed with myself right now and my own lack of follow through on something i truly enjoy(ed) doing, and was excited to being so many years ago. My last post was July 2017, and it was honest but not honest enough for me. Maybe I wasn’t able to be raw like i needed to be because it hurt too much at the time. Translation: my pregnancy was drenched in stress and heartbreak at the time. My daughter had been diagnosed in utero with neurological issues that, at that time, were daunting/exhausting/constant fear/all consuming/unknown (to some degree)/faith shaking. It is by the grace of God..no…not even grace, just purely God alone that pulled me out from that dark spot that was 2017.

If you’ve ever had a child who’s been diagnosed with a health issue, then you understand where i’m coming from. Also, PLEASE give me all the advice you have on self-care and how you function on your worst days. I’ve gotten better at not being “there” (in that dark cave of the unknown) as much as i used to be, but i’m still so lost some days that I all i can do as a parent is turn on the TV for the day, make frozen pizza for dinner, & pray that i’m not somehow traumatizing my children by my inability to put one foot in front of the other.

Thank GOD (i’ve been doing that so much lately, i’m sure God is even sick of hearing from me some days) that everything is working out as well as could be expected for my daughter. That beautiful, fierce soul is a one year old and her development is coming along beautifully. I read stories of others with her same issues and i sometimes cry myself to sleep praying for those children, but also thanking God from the pit of my soul that she is coming along so well.

Wow. Anyway, the gist of that is to say that i’ve been a fucking mess. I’ve written about my depression & my daughter on IG, but i just haven’t been ready to write it all out again on here. Most days it’s easier to just ignore the whole damn thing than try to express myself. Basically though, life is crazy right now. My family is moving from D.C. back to northern Minnesota where we were raised/where our families still live. I hate moving, but my husband and I feel this is what’s best for our girls, and also for me.

Dude, can i just be real? I’m burnt out SO BADLY. Like, I can’t even fully put that feeling into words. I love my children more than anything, but i feel so alone here in D.C., i feel like I carry the weight of my family’s well being, and I just can’t do it anymore. I need to be closer to family. I’ll be honest, my husband doesn’t want to move. He loves his job, he loves D.C., this is home for him. For me, living here has become heavy. That’s about the best way i can describe it. I have a career, plus i’m with the girls while my husband works, and like…folks…i’m on the verge of tears just typing this because everything is so raw…but there are some days i just can’t do this whole thing without my husband’s help, and he’s awesome, so don’t misunderstand me, but damn.

If there are any post-burnt out-parents out there, TALK TO ME. How did you survive? What helped? What did you do?  When will it get better? 

So yeah, we are moving our family to Minnesota in a month and that whole thing is exciting, because i know God has unique plans for us, but it’s also stressfull. I will keep you posted, or at least just keep writing on here to get all these thoughts out and, hopefully, this rambling blog post is relatable for someone else out there who’s feeling like they’re sinking: keep swimming. I hear it’s good for your knees.

 

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Pregnant In The Wild

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You ever feel like the worst person on earth? Or at least the worst person in your home (who also just ate all the yogurt covered pretzels).

Well lately I’ve been feeling pretty self-loathing. Sure, I’m about to give birth any day now to our second baby, but today I just looked in the mirror and thought, “that’s just no excuse. Get yourself together. Calm the fuck down, and go eat a salad while you’re at it.” I swear I need a large sign  above my side of the bed that’s says “Calm the Fuck Down” with a picture of my unattractive, pissed-off face. That way I can laugh at how ridiculous I look when I’m irritational and hard to live with.

“What happened?” you might ask. That’s the worst part..nothing. I’ve just been a ball of anger these past few weeks. Rolling around like a crazy Hispanic pregnant woman that can’t stop eating yogurt covered pretzels. We have family visiting soon & I’ve been roaring at my husband like a tiger in the wild (he probably feels this is fairly accurate) about cleaning, and things that need to be done before my dad and his wife arrive in a few days. Not to mention he sits around at night playing video games after I’m done roaring orders at him..and attempting to do them without me micromanaging each move he makes. So, after all that, how dare he try relaxing while I’m laying on the couch looking at Amazon Prime deals. The nerve of some people.

Then there’s my lovely little 2 year old daughter who gets to spend the majority of her time with me (hastag blessed). If I were to guess, I bet there’s nothing she loves more than her crazy over-reactive mom telling her what to do all day.  She’s so sweet, almost always does what I’m asked, and yet my temper with her has been less than ideal. I’d love to blame it on stress, or lack of time, or exhaustion. But I’ll be honest..we’ve spent more time watching movies (while I sleep on the couch) than we’ve spent outside breathing fresh air & all that good nature stuff you’re suppose to do with your kids in the summer time. Any time we do go anywhere I’m rushing her, which is not her style, and it breaks my heart a little knowing she’s trying to rush her little legs off so mom can get to Target and spend $200. Mom of the year award goes to me.

So, as you can see, I’ve drifted a little. Some might say I’ve become my own mother (RIP mom) while others might say I’ve become a pregnant, raging hormonal woman who’s nesting. Apparently I can’t nest like the sweet pregnant woman I saw at Target, saying sweet encouraging things to her husband like “I can’t wait until you’re able to use this diaper bag. You’re going to be such a good dad.”  All while the sweetest thing my husband has heard me say lately has been “you’re strong & I can’t fucking lift this, so help me.”…oh you know me, keeping our fire burning since 2010. How did he ever get so lucky?

I guess all this to say is that today I looked in the mirror, didn’t like what I saw, but realized I needed a little more self-mercy & a lot of Jesus. I love this quote in Anne Lamott’s Book, Hallelujah Anyway: 

 “I’m the one who needs mercy—my mercy. The need for this, for my own motley mercy, underpinned most of my lifelong agitation, my separation from life and self.

Just to hear the words “mercy” or “merciful” can transform the whole day, because as the old saying goes, the soul rejoices in hearing what it already knows.”

Excerpt From: Lamott, Anne. “Hallelujah Anyway.” Penguin Publishing Group, 2017-03-15T14:20:15Z. iBooks.

Looks like there’s hope for me yet. And maybe tonight I’ll let my husband enjoy his night, hand him a beer, and let him play his video game with me trying to roar like an angry Hispanic pregnant woman.

Time to get fucking real

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So i’m about to offend a lot of people. Maybe the majority of my FB “friends” but listen, every pregnant woman is allowed one major public rant so here’s mine: STOP BEING SO FAKE.

I left Facebook last summer due to the political “views” that were ruling the Facebook world, and due to needing to talk to someone I recently got a new FB account. I instantly regretted it, much like I regret the pop tart I just devoured. So who knows, maybe this is all a sugar high and once I come down i’ll instantly regret this post.

Facebook makes me angry, and it’s because I don’t see anyone being real. All the posts of these perfect-looking photos with the ridiculous filter, the selfies with the perfect grin & the zen colored background with your hipster hat, and flannel shirt (btw it’s summer outside…incase you were too hipster to notice) that’s posted along with a quote (stop pretending and just say that you wanted to post a selfie). Or the status about how “wild and crazy” life is, the status about  how thankful you are, how funny your kids are, or the overly saturated photo you posted of what you ate at brunch, or the whimsical post/photo about family and friends like you’re trying to be a millenial Dr. Seuss (and I get it…you like to garden).

Also, why do you feel the need to post 5-20 photos per day,  along with a running commentary every few hours? Yeah, your kid is cute, or you’re pregnant and need to let us know your bump is the size of a naval orange, but I really don’t need 20 photos of that filling up my newsfeed (well…i probably unfollowed you, but still). And what is it with people friend requesting people they haven’t talked to since 2006 or before? If you’re not a family member, if we haven’t talked in the past 10 years…in fact if we haven’t talked in the past YEAR..i’m probably fine with not being your “FB Friend” because, let’s be honest, we will probably never talk aside from “liking” each other’s posts. Not that i didn’t enjoy that one summer in high school we were in the same basketball league and we decided to sneak beer into our hotel room, or the time we never talked to each other in high school because you thought you were way cooler than me (you probably still are) but now you’ve decided to add another person to your FB friend list of 1k+ people. Also, you know that yoga pic you took on top of a mountain or that photo of you drinking green shit? Good for you, really, but  can you please stop showing off. I get it, you’re healthy &  zen enough that you can balance without falling off a cliff.

So do you all hate me now? Feel free to un-friend me, especially since we probably weren’t really friends to begin with. But here’s what my point is with all this: why can’t anyone just be fucking real? Not that your family isn’t beautiful, pregnancy isn’t a miracle, that meal your about to eat isn’t Instagram worthy, kombucha/green juice/yoga on mountains isn’t inspiring, or those hipster selfies you take aren’t lovely & all. But for ONCE I would just love to see a photo of someone’s kid screaming on the floor with a caption that reads “i’m crying too, i’m majorly messing up this parenting thing today”, or a pregnancy photo that says “pregnancy sucks and i’m really depressed about this whole thing”, or a status that says “i changed my profile pic to another selfie, but honestly, i’m just really needing some support &  affirmation right now”, or instead of that 100th “picture perfect photo” of you & your spouse a status that reads “marriage is shitty sometimes and i’m feeling really alone”. OR how about just putting our phones away all together? There’s a novel idea. Instead of another “whimsical” photo, why not just let your kid be fucking whimsical and magical without your phone all up in their face? Instead of another immaculate dinner photo how about just enjoying the dinner without trying to look like a National Geographic photographer on assignment? And you yoga/juice-loving/kombucha making people: how about just enjoying the soul awakening moments without posting anything on social media?

But i get it..did any of the above really ever happen if you didn’t post about it? Did a hipster really gain understanding in the woods if there’s not a picture of the tree & the clouds? Good question. Unless you’re regularly taking hallucinogenic drugs, i’m assuming it did. I’d love to hear about your life from YOU instead of from your social media pages. You know, so we could connect and talk like real people instead over a ridiculous social media page. But if you must post, I’m begging you, be REAL. Life is too short to be anything or anyone else. And for goodness sake, no more bathroom selfies.

The 7 Stages of Being Knocked Up

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Okay…so you know that awkward moment where you make a New Years Resolution & don’t stick to it? Yup. That awkward moment is happening right now. Seven months has passed since I’ve posted anything. Not that anyone cares, or even reads my blog, but for me It’s just another example of how inconsistent I truly am in my life.

With that being said, I’ll continue on through my awkward moment. If you know me at all you know there should be a sign above my head that says “awkward girl approaching. Move aside.” However, that has nothing to do with this post. What has really taken up the past seven months is becoming pregnant!

My husband & I found out in February that I was pregnant. Which was awkward (gonna keep the theme going) because, well, we weren’t planning on that happening (I swear every time I think that, I hear God laughing out loud at me). I’m not going to lie, when I saw our little baby on the ultra sound screen It was like the scene out of the film Knocked Up, where Katherine Heigl’s character finds out she truly is pregnant. Except it was much more real & much more terrifying.

Since becoming pregnant I have gone through (what seems like) the seven stages of loss and grief. I’m at a point where I’m ready to share, unashamed, how becoming a mom has been the most depressing & amazing thing that has happened to me.

Here is how it all happened.
1. shock & denial. Can I emphasize the denial any louder? I was in such denial that I could have been persuaded that it IS only a river in Egypt. I was in denial because I didn’t want to accept the loss of life as I knew it. Or accept that my future will no longer just belong to me & my husband, and that our dreams may change, or be put off for a while. And I’m sure the shock happened just to protect myself (or my baby) from being so overwhelmed.

2. Pain & Guilt. As the shock wore off it became replaced with pain. Quite literal pain actually– morning sickness. All day though, not just in the mornings. Also I had horrible migraines & was constantly exhausted. Feeling this sick left little space for joy or excitement. I got depressed..very depressed. And then I felt guilty for being so depressed over this new life (my own & baby Bergum’s).

3. Anger & Bargaining. I was angry that I was pregnant. Yes I wanted kids– but not now. Yes I believe every life is precious & every child a wanted child– but couldn’t another women be given the gift of pregnancy at this time instead of me? I mean seriously, talk about unwelcome timing (again, I hear God laughing at me out loud). As for bargaining, I’m sure it went something like this, “dear God, if you allow me to eat this slice of pizza without throwing up, I promise I won’t be so ungrateful.” ..but God knew better & so the sickness continues.

4. Reflection, depression, loneliness. I did reflect a lot. How could I not? The weirdest thing about being pregnant was, during this time, feeling so utterly alone. I had my husband, who is more than supportive & loving– dare I say even excited about becoming a father. I have family who loved me & supported me. I have friends who encouraged me. I have a baby miraculously growing inside me. Yet, I felt alone. So I reflected on pregnancy & motherhood. I reflected on having lost my own mother. I reflected on the childhood I had, and the things I saw in my mom, things that I didn’t want to repeat myself as a mother.

5. The Upward Turn. And it was here that I realized it: I am not my mother. It was here where my fear lived. My mom was an amazing & loving mother, but she had deep scars that rolled onto me. Things that, until I became pregnant, I didn’t realize affected me so deeply. Things from her own childhood that she had never dealt with & therefore became a part of me. She was human, we all have scars & life circumstances that have hurt us– I don’t blame her. But I didn’t necessarily want to be her as a mother. And so it was with this realization that I knew that I would be okay. That motherhood would be shaped by my own personality & by my unique relationship with my child.

6. Reconstruction & working through. Becoming a parent means reconstructing your whole world. It means you no longer just live for yourself (duh..I know). But the reality of it is sometimes overwhelming. Becoming a mother for MY child means fighting some of the ways I was raised, even though they may come so naturally. It means being aware of who I am, or what outcome I want, at all times, something I’ll admit that I’ve been bad at putting into practice. It also means constructing baby furniture & sometimes wanting to just take a baseball bat to it– Office Space style.

7. Acceptance & Hope. This is where the slow clap can begin. Yes I’m happy to say I’ve reached this stage. I’m 8 months pregnant & I’m truly excited about the future. People say becoming a parent is the hardest & most rewarding thing in life. I believe them. However, I know that with God’s help, my husband & I will be amazing parents…until my kid is a teen, then we’ll be losers.

I say all this to make this one point: it’s okay to not be happy about the most beautiful & unexpected things in life. It’s okay to admit that I was not happy to be pregnant & that I was fearful. It makes the happiness I feel now that much more real. And being real & honest is so good– I hope I don’t ever shy away from looking at myself in the mirror & being honest.

Thank God for this crazy little thing called life. And God help us as we face the reality of parenthood ahead.

Keep Calm & Carry On

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One of my favorite bible verses is Exodus 14:14 (NIV): The Lord himself will fight for you, just stay calm. 

I heard this verse when I was about 10 years old. My pastor, whom I loved, was dying cancer. He was one of those people who were extremely healthy & in good shape, an avid gym member & active in marathons throughout our community. It came as a huge shock to our congregation when he announced his illness. Even at my young age I thought there must be some mistake. The day he told our congregation I remember how calm he was, how his eyes still shimmered & his faith was still there. He didn’t make a big deal about the matter, he only asked for prayer for his family & he quoted Exodus 14:14. He read it out loud and he claimed that verse as though he were claiming a country. I believed him, we all did.

Sometimes life is unfair, and bad things happen to good people. My pastor lost his fight with cancer;  I remember his funeral like it was yesterday. The rows were filled, and they had to put chairs going all the way to the back of the church. The church was so packed that there were people standing throughout the whole service. I remember I sat with my friends from youth group and we cried. We cried because we knew God had let a honorable man die– this is sometimes the hardest thing for me to understand when it comes to death.

I kept this verse in my heart, but It wasn’t until years later that I went back and read the full chapter. Exodus 14 talks about Moses & the Israelites leaving Egypt after the King finally let them go. The king, and his officials, had changed their minds and wondered why they had let the Isrealites leave. The pharaoh and his troops went after them and surrounded the Israelites. After they realized they were surrounded, they got upset at Moses and started asking him why he made them leaves Egypt. They started doubting Moses (and God’s) plan for them. Exodus 14:13 is where Moses’s faith shines though: But Moses told the people, “Don’t be afraid. Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again. The Lord himself will fight for you, just stay calm.”   Immediately after this was the parting of the Red Sea, where God allowed the Israelites to escape from the king’s army.

At times i feel like the Egyptians, following God blindly into the desert towards a better life, then at the first sign of trouble I start to doubt God. I start to think it wasn’t the right path to take because it’s starting to get scary & difficult. I start to ask God why he’s even leading me outside of my comfort zone in the first place because i felt comfortable where i was. There are years in my life where I’ve lost people closets to me. There have been times when people have taken advantage of my vulnerability. There have been times where pain & sorrow have overtaken me & it feels like there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.

Exodus 14:14 gives me hope. It comforts my heart & gives peace to my soul. There are SO many times in my life where I don’t trust God. Yet, Even in the dessert he see’s me. He reminds me that he’s still there, even if it’s just a small act of beauty or it’s delivered by someone fighting a harder battle than me, God reminds me. And, even in my most doubtful & painful moments, he will fight for me. I just need to stay calm and carry on.

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I’m currently participating in an online devotional called Made To Crave by Proverbs 31 Ministires . Please check it out! http://proverbs31.org/online-bible-studies/current-study/
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Silent Night

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When I get angry I get quiet. I shut down. I do the whole “silent treatment” thing where nothing gets accomplished & I don’t talk to my husband for most of the night, except for one-word responses here & there. Then, without fail, I get upset over something small, I blow up, & I say everything I shouldn’t say.

I always feel that being silent is better than saying what’s on my mind while I’m angry. If you know me at all you know that I tend to be, at times, overly honest. I always think that I’m doing the right thing by just sitting back, not talking, and stewing about whatever it is I’m frustrated about. But I know I’m not. I know It’s all very immature. It’s happening right now, actually. I’ve decided to blog about it so that I can look back on this post & remember what God is teaching me.

I’m learning that whenever I’m angry at my husband, or anyone for that matter, it’s a warning sign that I’m putting my faith (or unhealthy expectations) in people who are only human. My faith should be in God.

I’m learning that whatever problem I have with others is usually a mirror to my own heart. It’s God’s way of showing me to examine my own actions & emotions.

I’m learning that in times of anger being silent isn’t always wise. In my “silence” I’m sure I scream in nonverbal’s and negative energy. God made us to communicate with one another in love & respect. Something that, I’ll admit, is a challenge for me in my marriage. But it’s a challenge that I’m willing to overcome.

One key to marital bliss i often hear is “don’t go to bed angry”. I’ve always hated that because, frankly, some nights we do go to bed angry– it happens. We’re all human. However, the longer I’m married, I realize the underlying wisdom in that saying.

I’m thankful God is patient with me even in my anger. It helps me remember I’m human. It helps me remember that my husband is a gift I need show respect towards.

I’ve always been a slow learner, but I’m learning that a “silent night” should exist only as the title of a Christmas carol.

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Drivers License Lie

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The last time I had to renew my license was when I turned 21. I had just returned home from California, so I was golden brown & in the best shape of my life! My weight on that license, along with my pearly white grin, was far from a lie. I remember thinking how lucky I was to be that size & promising myself I would never become one of “those” people who lied about their weight on their license.

As time went on, and as my fun loving-crazy-21-something-self grew up, the weight packed on. The low number on that small plastic square slowly became a memory of better health & a happier me. Even having to look at my license became painful, but I kept it because I loved the photo. Sure, there were points where I may have been close to that weight, but 5 years later I was now 30lbs above that beautiful number.

I always had a fear that someone would look at my license, look at me & then back at my license, and not believe it was the same person. It wasn’t until someone stole my wallet that I was forced to get a new license. I put it off for months hoping that my license would magically be returned to me. No such luck. The time had come and I had to face what i had so easily ignored.

I sat at the DMV filling out my form and I skipped over the weight section to answer the rest of the questions. Finally I circled back & wrote in a number. Then I scratched it out and wrote another number. The last number was the one went with.

I’m not going to tell you the number I wrote, or if it was close to the reality of what I weigh now. But I will tell you that I lied. I lied & I felt horrible & guilty. I felt horrible because I realized how fat I had actually become. I felt guilty because
I had became one of “those” people who lied about their weight on their license.

It was, among other slap-in-the-face situations such as this, a wake up call. There is always more to something than what appears on the surface. I believe there’s a whole story & particular emotions behind every pound on my body. With the help of God I’m determined to figure it out, face it head on, then let it go.

I may never be the weight I was at 21 year old. But I’m I’m determined to have peace in my soul & love for my body again. I want to be healthy, and proud in my own skin. And I don’t want to shamefully lie about my weight on my license ever again.

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Won’t you be my neighbor?

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My husband & I came home to this note stuck under our door. It was regarding a package that was sitting in front of our apartment– they picked it up so it wouldn’t get stolen. The best part about it? We have never met our neighbors in A748. They did this just because it was a thoughtful thing to do.

We live in a massive apartment complex that once was a hotel. It has nearly a thousand units, so it’s filled to the max on every floor. We’ve lived here for 8 months & we haven’t met any of our neighbors. Saying that is a little shameful because my husband & I come from Minnesota which, for the most part, is truly (Minnesota) nice. People are friendly & everyone seems to know their neighbors. Here in DC it seems to be a different story because people tend to keep to themselves, not make eye contact, or randomly converse with people around them. I’m not saying everyone, but so far that’s been our experience. So I kind of just went along with it and kept to myself.

Sometimes all it takes is a small act of kindness to get the ball rolling. He could have walked right past our door, but he didn’t and he taught me a valuable lesson. Bill, in A748, kindly reminded me that people still are neighborly and still help one another out. All virtues that God has really been tugging on my heart to improve.

So thanks, Bill. You’re actions did more than you know for us & our view of DC. And for what it’s worth, I promise, I’ll pay it forward.

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Love lifts us up where we belong

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I’ve been hearing the word “love” a lot lately. I think God knows when there’s something I need to hear, it needs to be repeated several times in order to truly sink in.

Love. Everyone writes about love– how they hate it, how they love it, how they lost it. What could I write that could be any different? Well, probably nothing. I’ve seen love in many different forms throughout my life.

I’ve felt childhood love. Which is the love of life, where everything seems amazing & new. A time of constant wonder & always asking my parents, “why?” sometimes followed with, “because I said so”.

I’ve felt young love, filled with teenage angst and well, all that goes along with being a teenage girl. But what teenage girl doesn’t think they’re going to run away on a romantic/life changing road trip with their first major crush? Ok..well…I did. *cough*

The love toward a parent that i didn’t realize I loved so much until they were gone. A love (and a loss) so deep I still feel like only Jesus himself knows what that loss feels like. And even then, if I can be honest, I’m skeptical.

The love I felt when I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with my husband. A love that was easy to feel in the beginning, but realizing it doesn’t always feel that way. Making a daily choice to love my husband instead of just waiting for the emotions.

A love that I show, or try to show, on a daily basis to those I encounter at work or other places. The places where I’m called to love even though I may be exhausted or I’m not wanting to make the extra effort.

And then there’s a love that I have for myself. And this, ironically, is the love I have the most trouble with. I’ve always had trouble with truly loving myself & I’ve alway been my worst critic. As sad as it sounds, I can count on 1 hand the times in my life where I’ve truly looked into the mirror and just felt love for myself without any harsh thoughts afterwards.

A little bit heartbreaking, right? Because God made me to love my neighbors like i love myself, yet I just..don’t. I know this prevents me from loving those closest to me, especially my husband. That is why I’m determined to work on this funny little thing called love.

I can only do it with God’a grace and love to guide me. That famous verse in 1 Corinthians13:2 rings truer than ever:
If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but have not love, I would be nothing.

I think that goes for self love, too. So I’m praying that God loves me enough to teach me how to love myself. It’s going to take a lot of work to undo all the criticism I’ve fed to myself, but I really do believe that love is splendid. And if it sought after through the heart of God, it will set us free and lift us up where we belong.

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Bucket List. First, I just need to find a bucket.

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There’s something about writing down my goals & resolutions. For me it means I’ve dedicated myself to these tasks and, if they aren’t completed, I feel as if I’ve let myself down & have somehow disappointed the promises themselves. A little extreme, I know.

When I was younger I never believed in New Years resolutions or bucket lists. I thought they were silly and just an easy way to be disappointed. Part of me felt like i would be putting myself in a box, and if i wrote down what i wanted out of my year I’d loose out on other opportunities because I’d be so focused on “the list”. I had the mentality of “whatever happens, happens. Don’t worry about it.”

However the older I’ve gotten I’ve realized that I need these goals to keep myself wild at heart. I love to travel, so most of my desires are to see the world & watch sunsets with my husband by my side. Goals that remind me to live outside of my comfort zone.

My husband & I wrote a bucket list together (please ignore the misspellings). We also wrote New Years resolutions but those are a bit more personal. These are fun things to dream about and accomplish together throughout our life.

I’m proud of this list, as silly as it sounds. It shows growth and my desire to dream. Sometimes those things get lost when I’m so wrapped up in making a living and working towards success.

Bucket lists are good. But sometimes you need to find your bucket first.

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