Berry Berry Quite Contrary

Today is my husband, Matt and I’s 12 year anniversary. 12 years seems like a life time but also like a fleeting moment at the same time.

Like any marriage, we’ve had ups and downs, highs and lows. We’ve experienced life’s greatest miracles x 4, the birth of our 4 daughters. We’ve also experienced life’s gut-punches, deaths of loved ones, leaving us in a cloud of grief. We’ve matured. Changed. Fought. Gained extra pounds. Lost some. Then gained some more. We’ve moved across state lines. We’ve started businesses. Bought houses that have turned into homes. Sent girls off to their first days of schools. Challenged one another. Brought out the best and worst in one another at times. Competed. We’ve ate lots of pizza and cheeseburgers together. Rocked with one another on our front porch. Rocked our 4 babies to sleep. We’ve played golf. Basketball. Tennis. Gone on trips. Grown in our faith. We’ve become more selfless and have realized this whole parenting gig is not for the faint of hearts. We’ve worried. Cried. Hugged. Rejoiced. Pushed buttons. We’ve grown. We’ve drank coffee together. Prayed together. We’ve coached. We’ve listened. And we’ve loved.

Love is a choice. The first few years of dating, getting engaged and then married was a whirlwind. In those years, love was a feeling. A, “I can’t live without you, encompassing, tremendous feeling.” I still get the feelings of being in love with Matt, as he does me. But when the newness wears off, the years go on and life’s inconveniences and challenges and beauty all mix together… love becomes a choice.

Marriage is hard. It is work. It is compromise and communication. Love is a whole lot of forgiveness and a whole lot of grace and plenty of selflessness. Anyone who tells you different is lying. I’ve cringed countless times when I’ve heard others say, “marriage shouldn’t be this much work.” Oh, but it should. And it is.

Love looks a little different these days than 12 years ago. Love is always making the pot of coffee in the morning. Love is letting me take a 3 1/2 hour nap while he gives baths and feeds 4 little girls supper. Love is listening to me go on about my crazy dreams. And likewise. Love is letting me paint and decorate the house to my heart’s desires. Love is taking me out to dinner. Love is finding a babysitter. Love is holding my hand. Love is allowing the large red KC Chiefs sign that doesn’t go with my decor. Love is putting the toilet seat down. Love is taking care of me when I’m sick. Putting your glass in the sink. Love is going to 5 different gas stations at 11:00 at night to buy me Benadryl for a bad allergic reaction to lash extensions. Love is cleaning up the throw up because the other person cannot stomach it. Love is bringing home pizza on a week full of strep throat. Love is doing the dishes. Love is allowing one another to do things that bring us joy- lifting weights and volleyball. Love is letting the other have a night out with friends. Putting another person’s needs and desires above your own. Something we’re still working on.

Marriage is a covenant, made in front of God, not to be taken lightly. Loving your spouse, who is an imperfect, messy, sinful being; is a beautiful way to serve God. God loves us in our mess and we should do the same. It’s messy and soul searching and frustrating and confusing and wonderful and beautiful all at the same time. It is work. But one of life’s greatest works if you ask me.

Happy 12 years Matt. May we always choose one another. May we always keep that competitive spirit that makes life more fun. And may I always continue to beat you at horse.

Love, Kaybabe

I’ve never been a morning person. I think I was the absolute worst in high school. Literally getting out of bed 10 minutes before I had to be at school. Sorry mom. But recently I heard someone say, “If you aren’t a morning person, I suggest you become one.” I’ve made excuses all these years of not having the time to exercise because I’m too busy throughout the day with my daughters and too tired in the evenings. And mornings were not an option because I just simply wasn’t a morning person until I decided I would now be one.

We have an almost 1 year old black golden-doodle, named Shadow. Shadow has a lot of gusto. A lot of zest. A lot of spirit. For the last few weeks I’ve been rising before the sun comes up and I take Shadow on a 2 mile walk. Well, actually let me re-phrase that. The first few times, Shadow took ME on a walk. A very fast walk. Not a very enjoyable one. Matt quickly bought him a head halter collar and that was a game changer.  Where the head goes, the body follows; just like a horse! Our walks have been much more enjoyable since. I’m the one leading the way, not him, although he still tries at times.

This morning though was a little bit of a different story. We made our way down the sidewalk when across the road came an owner with a beautiful husky. They made their way to us and as the dogs crossed paths, Shadow freaked out. As the beautiful husky trotted away calmly with his owner, I found myself basically lying on the pavement, holding back Shadow who had somehow gotten out of his head halter. He barked and pulled and I pulled back with all my might. Eventually I got the halter back on and realized I gave Shadow a little too much slack. He just wasn’t ready. I twisted the leash around my hand, tightening up my grip, and we went on our way.

And in that moment, God showed me that’s like Him and me. I want to go here or go there. I want to buy this thing or that. I want to chase after this thing that I think will bring me joy. I want freedom. I want to do what I want when I want. I want to pull and tug until I get my way.

But just like I pull back Shadow to keep him from harm’s way, God does the same for me.

I don’t understand sometimes. Why am I not getting what I want? Why is God not allowing this to happen? Why didn’t I get that job? That promotion? That thing? Why did this bad thing happen? Why would a God who loves me allow this to happen? Why is He holding me back when all I want to do is go?

Just like Shadow will never understand that the reason I am holding him back is because of my love for him and for his own good, I will maybe never understand reasons why God doesn’t give me what I want.

The bunny across the street looks tempting and delicious. And if caught, it would bring temporary satisfaction and joy to Shadow. But Shadow doesn’t see the truck coming down the road at 40 mph. He doesn’t see the semi that can’t stop at a moment’s notice. He doesn’t see the danger.

And I don’t see things that God sees.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

God isn’t out to get me and I’m not out to get Shadow. He’s not trying to make my life miserable or not allowing me to have fun. He is watching over me, protecting me, guiding me. It’s my choice if I will listen and obey, just like Shadow.

As Shadow and I continued our walk, we passed 2 more dogs, and the same thing happened. Except this time I was able to stay up on my two feet. I got frustrated and tightened the collar more and gave as little slack as I could the rest of the way home. I sat on my front porch steps, Shadow panting beside me, and I knew the rest of our walks from now on, I would give him little to no slack until he could show me he would listen and obey. It made me sad because I desire to give him some freedom. I want him to be able to explore a little bit and not be kept so tightly next to me but he must learn.

Just like Shadow, I am tested. Do I always pass the test? No. But God still loves me, just like I still love Shadow. Like Shadow, the more tests I pass, the more freedoms God will give me. I envision years from now, as more wrinkles make their way across my face, that I will be walking Shadow down the same sidewalk. No head halter collar will be needed. I will give him slack and freedom. But instead of making his way this way and that, he will be right next to me. No pulling. No tugging. No struggling.

And I hope for me, it’s the same way with God. I will stay close by his side, listening and obeying. Not struggling, pulling and tugging.

And I hope the same for you.

“The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.” A psalm of David.

I’ve wrote down the words. I’ve meditated on them. I’ve read them in His word. And I’ve believed them. Words of truth and hope.

But every now and then, it sneaks in like a quick moving storm. The clouds start hovering over, the wind picks up, the sun blocked by thick clouds, darkness surrounding me and I find myself questioning. Is this all my purpose is? To rise each morning and do the same things I do every single day? Cleaning up infinite amounts of dishes, throwing toys in baskets, picking little pieces of trash off the ground, laundry, mediating fights, desperately grasping for control but it just always seems to be right out of my reach.

And then comes the lightning and thunder. The big booms. The sharp bolts. I compare. I compare to the houses surrounding me that seem to be filled with nothing but laughter and joy. Success and beauty. Not tears and frustrations. Not filled with “not good enoughs” and struggles.

Comparison is the thief of joy. This I know. But on those days when the storm is so fierce, it’s hard to turn away from. And before I know it the tornado comes. My thoughts are like a cyclone swirling around in my head filled with negativity & frustrations.

I have dreams. Just like you. Big ones. Ones that seem unreachable. I know God hears. I know he knows the desires of my heart. But I see nothing happen. A season of silence it seems. Countless prayers. Hoping. Waiting. Frustrated.

I don’t feel successful. I don’t feel important as I scrape leftover peanut butter and jelly off an orange elmo plate. As I place it in the dishwasher I reprimand myself for raising my voice earlier at my girls. I question and wonder if this is what I’m really supposed to be doing and if this is all there is to my life.  

I feel defeated as I climb into bed. I am glad the day is over. I lie my head down, my brown hair strewn across my pillow and close my eyes.

It’s a new day. I open my bible and this is the first thing I read,

“What is success? Most definitions include references to achieving goals and acquiring wealth, prestige, favor and power. “Successful” people enjoy the good life- being financially and emotionally secure, being surrounded by admirers, and enjoying the fruits of their labors. They are leaders, opinion makers, and trendsetters. Their example is emulated; their accomplishments are noticed. They know who they are and where they are going, and they stride confidently to meet their goals. By these standards Jeremiah was a miserable failure. For 40 years he served as God’s spokesman to Judah, but when Jeremiah spoke, nobody listened. And he certainly did not attain material success. In the eyes of the world, Jeremiah was not a success. But in God’s eyes, Jeremiah was one of the most successful people in all of history. Success, as measured by God, involves obedience and faithfulness.”

And there it is. I’m amazed at how God puts exactly what we need to hear in front of us at exactly the right time. On days like yesterday, when I long for and dream for success, to feel important and noticed, to my have my dreams answered….. God shows me truth. What I desire at times is the, “world’s definition of success”, not Jesus’. And if I’m chasing after success as the world sees it, I will never be satisfied, never feel true joy.

I know there are some of you out there who at times, feel the same way I feel. Maybe you’re a stay at home mom and feel unnoticed, unappreciated and undervalued. Or maybe you work at Walmart in the check out line and spew out “totals” all day to strangers and feel like you don’t really make a difference and wonder if this is where you are really supposed to be. Maybe, like me, you have big dreams that you feel like God isn’t blessing and you’re not sure if he ever will. Whoever you are, whatever you do, whatever hopes and dreams you have…. I hope you don’t define your success by the world’s definition. We all will have our days where the enemy will attack our mind and we will all have times where things just don’t seem to be going our way. We will have days where we get out of bed and just feel off or feel down… or both. But my hope is that you don’t stay there too long. That you fight those feelings, you fight those lies. That you dig into God’s word and read His truth.

My hope for you is that the storm will pass. The lightning and thunder fade away. The clouds roll out. That you quiet those negative thoughts. You stop comparing to those around you. And you look out your window at the sun shining. Because the sun always does come back out. I promise.