Taking Max to school this morning, it took almost the entire way there for the car to warm up. What the heck? As much as I hate the nickname, we live in “Hotlanta” because we can’t handle the cold! Get it together weather.

But Max and I were all bundled, and in a car with a heater, going to and from places that we’re heated. We may have been uncomfortable, but we’re going to be ok. Not everyone has those luxuries. And if you don’t think warmth is a luxury, take a drive around town and see those people living in the streets. Those kids walking to school without coats or socks. Warmth is something we can easily take for granted.

Today as we are all huddled under blankets, or bundled up to stay warm, I want to encourage you to see how you can share your warmth. If you are in the Atlanta area, I’m collecting coats to give to families at our school. Message me if you want to donate! There are also Amazon wishlists if you aren’t local or want to give something new. If you live somewhere else, find a local school/shelter and give what you have. Maybe it’s just $5 so the social worker can buy socks. That’s huge! Have kids coats that don’t fit? Gently used works too. Have adult sizes? Give that! As a mom, I would totally dress my kids for cold weather before dressing myself. But if a mom or dad gets sick, they can’t care for their babies. Something so simple can make a huge difference in a families health and well being!


Reaching for Hope


I’ve been struggling with some recurring health issues for MONTHS now. Five months to be exact. Almost half of the year. Nothing huge, just seemingly unending, and even my doctor seems to be at a loss. So today, since I actually got some quiet time before getting Max up (aka me refusing to get him up until I was good and ready), I found myself reading Luke 8: 43-48.

And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all of her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone. She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, and immediately her discharge of blood ceased. And Jesus said, “Who was it that touched me?” When all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!” But Jesus said, “Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.” And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”

I’ve read this story, and studied this story who knows how many times. The typical stuff struck me again this time. She had a period for TWELVE YEARS. That makes my 5 months of general discomfort seem…well not that bad I guess. She spent her “all of her living” trying to be healed. While I have spent time and money seeing my doctor, it has really only been an inconvenience. And to top off all this other hopelessness, she was ceremonially unclean, isolating her from society. My life has not been hugely impacted. So my first take away this morning was…well it could be worse.

Then I started wondering about this whole fringe thing. I think in the past my thought process was that because of her faith/desperation she thought that by reaching for the smallest piece of Jesus, SOMETHING…ANYTHING could, maybe even would, happen. While I think this is true, I felt like there was more significance to the fringe. So I pulled out the good old study Bible, and turned to Numbers 15: 37-41 (emphasis and notes are mine).

Then the Lord spoke to Moses, “Speak to the people of Israel, and tell them to make tassels on the corners of their garments throughout their generations, and to put a cord of blue on the tassel of each corner. And it shall be a tassel for you to look at and remember all the commandments of the Lord (we don’t), to do them (we don’t), not to follow after your own heart and your own eyes (we do), which you are inclined to whore after (all the time). So you shall remember and do all my commandments, and be holy to your God (we don’t and we aren’t…but Jesus is). I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God: I am the Lord your God. (He is our Lord, who brings us to Himself)” .

So this scrap of clothing the woman reached for WAS significant. It was part of the law. The same law that deemed this woman as unclean because of her ailment. My synapses starting firing. This may seem a little stream of consciousness, but try to follow me here:

  • This woman was sick and lost EVERYTHING – money, pride, her people, her religion. She was isolated for 12 years. By law she was not allowed to be around other people, and if she HAD to go into public, she had to announce herself as unclean. Heaping more shame onto her shame and isolation. I think the word desperate would adequately describe this woman.
  • In her desperation, she broke this law. She hid within this crowd that was following Jesus, with the small hope that maybe if she just touched him she might get SOMETHING, ANYTHING, out of it.
  • Technically, according to this law, by touching Jesus, she would make him ceremonially unclean as well. Was she thinking of the legal/religious implications here? Or was she just moving towards Hope?
  • She reached for Jesus, touched his tassel or fringe (the reminder of our brokenness/His holiness), and was IMMEDIATELY healed.
  • She snuck back into the crowd. It could have ended there. She was healed, she could reenter society, Jesus could have kept walking.
  • BUT. A big Holy BUT.
  • Jesus stops. He feels power going from him. Not her uncleanliness spreading to Him. But the opposite. His cleanliness spreading to her! Jesus is greater than the Law. His holiness is greater than her (our) brokenness! (Side note: Maybe I’ve been doing too much Kindergarten math homework, but my visual here is the greater than alligator symbol consuming our brokenness. Do with that what you will.)
  • The woman realized that she is NOT HIDDEN. She is seen. And not just by the law, or her people. But by Jesus. The Savior. The Lord her God. This is what she responds to. Not the physical healing, but being seen. And her response? Worship! She says what she’s done, why she’s done it, and that she has been healed. Shame? Its gone. Where is your sting?
  • Her faith has made her well. I believe there was more healing here than just the physical.
  • Go in Peace = Restoration! He is the Lord our God, and He will bring us to Himself.

So today, I take away more than just the perspective of “it could be worse”. I walk away with a few questions and convictions. Where do I go in my desperation? Myself, my personal resources, my people? Or to Jesus, even the smallest piece of Him I can find? And when He brings the healing I so long for, what do I do? Do I slink back into the crowd, or do I fall on my knees, shake off the shame and worship the Lord my God who has restored me to Himself?

As we head into Christmas, this is my prayer. That we reach for Hope, even when things seem hopeless. That we see that Christ has done what we could not and that our response will be to stand up, confess that we are broken but that He is Holy and leave that shame on the ground.

Unbreakable Christmas

Today is the first Sunday of Advent and this is what I’m typically like this time of year:


But this year, I’m already so tired of Christmas. Wait. Let me clarify. I’m so tired of “Christmas”. I’m over the fake. The look-at-me-ness of it all. It just feels so empty. 

Maybe it’s because I started listening to Christmas music too early. Maybe it’s because I walked into Target and it was NUTS. I mean, they have WAY TOO MANY DISPLAYS IN THE AISLES. I feel like they are shoving “gifts”, also known as garbage, down my throat. No. I do not want 12 bath bombs. SHUT IT DOWN TARGET.


Notice all the open space in this aisle. At least 4 people walking comfortably. Now replace 2-3 of those people with a GIANT GIFT DISPLAY. #shutitdown

Maybe it’s because it doesn’t feel like winter yet. But I don’t think that’s really it. Those all seem more like symptoms of some bigger issue. But I wasn’t able to put my finger on it, so I kept moving myself towards the holiday, feeling more like this:


In the midst of all these feels, my Christmas decorating came with some new rules this year.

  1. No mess – I have outlawed all glitter and evergreen shrubbery
  2. Unbreakable – I’ve stocked up on paper, felt, and plastic ornaments.

Basically I don’t want to have to vacuum everyday. I want to decorate it, and not have to worry about it. As I was telling a friend about my decorating goals, it hit me. The feeling of a hollow holiday and wanting something unbreakable go hand in hand.

Things in our world have been so heartbreaking lately. I feel like I’ve seen a lot of people using the ideas/words/imagery of my faith, of my Jesus, for their own personal gain. And it honestly makes me sick. Nothing seems real, or genuine. Even “Christmas” seems like junky garbage. It seems shallow. Fragile. Breakable.


But the truth of Christmas is not shallow or fragile. Our God is unshakable. 

Hebrews 12:25-29 The Message (MSG)

25-27 So don’t turn a deaf ear to these gracious words. If those who ignored earthly warnings didn’t get away with it, what will happen to us if we turn our backs on heavenly warnings? His voice that time shook the earth to its foundations; this time—he’s told us this quite plainly—he’ll also rock the heavens: “One last shaking, from top to bottom, stem to stern.” The phrase “one last shaking” means a thorough housecleaning, getting rid of all the historical and religious junk so that the unshakable essentials stand clear and uncluttered.

28-29 Do you see what we’ve got? An unshakable kingdom! And do you see how thankful we must be? Not only thankful, but brimming with worship, deeply reverent before God. For God is not an indifferent bystander. He’s actively cleaning house, torching all that needs to burn, and he won’t quit until it’s all cleansed. God himself is Fire!

This is my prayer for the Advent season. To hold tight to what is unshakable. To let God shake the junk out of my heart, leaving only room for Him. To worship Him as the “historical and religious junk” comes burning to the ground. The beauty of Christmas is that God Himself came to us, to do the work we are not able to do. He has shaken our way of life, so that we can move into His unshakable eternity!



Max is 2. He has been hospitalized twice for respiratory issues. Both times in November. The week of Thanksgiving. All of these pictures have been coming up on my Timehop over the past week.

This year we were ready. Earlier this year we saw a pulmonary specialist and got an asthma diagnosis. We’ve been working out inhaler meds basically all year. When the weather started changing here (the random cold snap we always get in September before the temperature returns to 90 degrees until Christmas) we had a practice run. We figured out the inhalers. Got some steroids. No hospital!

Then November comes. Along with all the memories of crying in the hospital. Of feeding tubes in his sweet little 3 week old nose. Of having to leave one baby to care for the other. November is a season of heartbreak and my anxiety FLARED.UP. Like “cry at a friend’s 2 year old birthday party because I was scared to let Max play outside” flared up.

But this year we made it! I realize as I am typing this that it is still November. But I’m taking the win and you can’t stop me! But I am also sitting still, basking in the Lord’s goodness this year. I know it wasn’t the hand sanitizer baths I gave my kids (no I didn’t…calm down). It wasn’t the deep cleaning I did after any sort of illness came in our door. I was reminded literally all week, along with those sad hospital pictures, of Psalm 71:20. First of all, if you don’t follow Sara Hagerty on Instagram, stop reading my silliness and hit that follow button. She fills up my timeline with scripture and adoration and it constantly speaks to my soul right when I need it.  She has posted this scripture on November 29, 2015 and November 27, 2017.


In 2015 I was clinging to this truth for dear life. Today. Today I see it. I see the revival. Not just Max’s physical healing and growth. In this season of heartbreak, my heart has been revived to see, and cling to, His goodness and not just power through to the next season.

I write this sitting in a messy living room, in front of a tacky but unbreakable Christmas tree (more on that later), after giving Max his 2 inhalers for the second time today. And I am overcome with a sense of peace. Jesus has got this y’all.

Clean Out!

I don’t know about you, but I had this plan to get back to eating healthy foods as soon as Thanksgiving was over and our house guests headed home. BUT ALL THE FOOD IS STILL THERE. And then I got sick. I’m not on my death bed or anything, but all I want to eat is junk. And my house is full of it. I have no energy, which makes me not want to cook the meals I planned so I’ve been eating cheese and crackers. And I might have sent the hubs to the store for chocolate. I woke up with a sugar hangover this morning. Then had the rest of the Two-Bite-Brownies for lunch. I’m on a roll over here guys. SOMETHING MUST BE DONE.


Quality photobomb from the leftover lettuce #vegetables

Step 1: Clean out the fridge

I can’t eat the delicious leftover stuffing if its not in the fridge. Luckily the brownies are gone, so I don’t have to feel guilty throwing those away! I really try to limit our food waste but none of use has any business eating the amount of stuffing/green bean casserole that we have left!

Step 2: Get rid of junkie snacks

I could live off of chips and salsa. Breakfast, chips and salsa. Lunch, chips and salsa. Dinner, chips and salsa. Snacks/Dessert…you get the picture. As much as it will break my heart, I think I need to throw the chips away 😦 Unless I can pass them off on someone else. Anyone want some chips??

Step 3: Organize and plan

I need to go through and see what I have left and plan some healthy meals. I need to prep some healthy snacks to grab instead of cheese and crackers.

Step 4: Move.

I always have more motivation to eat well when I exercise. Luckily both kids will be in school tomorrow so I will have the time and space to get something in!

So tomorrow is a new day. I may still feel like crap, but I there are no more brownies so I’ll have to eat a salad or something. Hopefully choosing vegetables over chocolate will give me more energy! And help me not break out! And be nicer to my children!


Me after surviving on chips and Two Bite Brownies for 2 days.

Smoked Salmon Frittata

My first food post! I made this for dinner last night and it was super easy and SO good! I also had it again for breakfast and it heated up nicely and was delicious again. So I think it has passed 2/3 of my food tests (delicious the first time, delicious as left overs, kids loved it). I made this after the kids went to bed so they were out of luck on this one. But considering Max eats more salmon than a full grown man I’m confident that at least one of my children would have enjoyed it!

Ready in under 30 minutes! 
Makes 4 servings.
362 Calories per serving.


  • ½ red onion
  • 1 tbsp Olive oil
  • Frozen artichoke hearts, thawed (I used about half of a 12oz bag)
  • Spinach, about 2 handfuls
  • 1, 4oz package Smoked salmon, sliced ( I used the Pastrami from Trader Joe’s, but any will do!)
  • 8 eggs
  • 3 tbsp milk
  • 1 roma tomato, sliced
  • 4 oz. Reduced fat cream cheese
  • 1 tbsp butter
  • Salt and pepper to taste


  1. Preheat oven to 350°.
  2. Cook the veggies. Using an oven safe pan, saute onions and artichokes until cooked/slightly browned over medium heat. Wilt the spinach with the other veggies. Melt the butter in the pan to help the eggs not stick.
  3. Scramble the eggs. Whisk the eggs, milk, salt and pepper. Pour the mixture into the pan. Top with salmon, tomatoes and dollops of cream cheese.
  4. Cook. Cook over medium heat for a few minutes until the edges of the eggs start to pull away from the pan. Transfer the pan to the oven and bake for about 20 minutes or until the middle of the frittata isn’t jiggly any more. Let rest for about 5 minutes, then use a spatula to ease the eggs away from the side of the pan. Place a plate on top of the pan and flip!
  5. Cut and enjoy 🙂 I topped mine with some hot sauce…but that’s just me!

Mom Shaming

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about why I am a stay at home mom (see previous post). There are all these reasons floating around like daycare is horrible/for mom’s who don’t want to take care of their kids, it’s what I (as a woman) am supposed to do, yada yada yada. There are just as many reasons to NOT be a stay at home mom – less money, low self-esteem, divorce. It’s tiring hearing people explain their decisions.

The truth, for me at least, is that this is where I am supposed to be. Not because we can afford it. Not because my husband travels for work. Not because I am a woman. I am a stay at home mom because it is what is best for MY family.

That being said, as women, we cannot win this argument between being a working mom and a stay at home mom. If we decide to work, we are neglecting our kids. If we stay home, we aren’t living up to our potential or contributing to society. No matter what we decide, we will suffer the never-ending “mom-shaming”.

For some reason we are told that we need to do it all. We need to take of the children, our husbands, our homes. We need to work and bring home the proverbial bacon. We need to craft. We need to do volunteer work. We need to teach our kids. And we need to look good doing it. If we fail at one of these, we feel like we are failing at life. It is so easy to get wrapped up in any one of these things and look to them to find our identities. If we lose it, we lose our identities and we feel lost. Even if others aren’t “mom-shaming” us, we begin to shame ourselves.

Bad Mother

The only way I’m able to get around this, is to remember that my identity is not in being a mom. It is not in being a teacher, or a wife, or even as a woman. My identity is in Christ. I have to remind myself of this daily because it is oh so easy to be blinded by everyday life. This truth takes away so many of these burdens! I want to challenge all the mommies out there reading this (and MYSELF) not to let those thoughts of self-doubt and shame creep in. And almost just as importantly, don’t let those feelings of doubt be directed at other mommies. Whatever type of moms we are, we are doing GREAT work!




What Not to Say to a SAHM

Before Lucy was born I was a teacher. I think that much of my identity was wrapped up in what and who I was teaching. Since having Lucy and deciding to stay home I’ve gone through a bit of an identity crisis (which I’ve heard is completely normal…at least I tell myself it is). I no longer had the typical 9-5 (or 7-6) job. I no longer dictated my own schedule. I couldn’t hang out with my friends the way I used to. I was lonely, tired, angry, bored, hormonal, borderline crazy. There were many times I wondered if I made the right decision to stay home…or even have a baby.

Over the last year, I have discovered a few questions/phrases/etc. that I HATE to hear.

1. What are you up to now? Oh you know…not much. Just raising a human.

2. You have plenty of time to ____________________. Yes. I have plenty of time to feed, change, feed, clothe, and entertain a 1 year old with an attention span of 20 seconds. Not to mention changing, feeding, clothing and entertaining a 29 year old husband with an attention span of just over 20 seconds 😉 On top of all of the “homemaking” crap I am expected to do (sweeping, mopping, meal planning, exercising, taking care of the dog, cooking, dishes, vacuuming, crafting, making baby food…I’m sure I’m missing something because I’m not so good at this part).

3. So what did you do all day? No comment.


4. Oh, you’re not wearing yoga pants today. Oh…you’re being an ass-hat today.*

5. When do you think you will go back to work? When I friggin’ feel like it…ass-hat.*

I’m sure there are more…but my “mommy brain” can’t think of them. You know, since I haven’t been stimulating my brain for the last year. *

*Apologies for the snarkiness #sorrynotsorry

How to Talk to Little Girls

I have the best husband. He has a pretty good blog. Not as good as mine, but still pretty good 🙂 This one made me tear up a bit.

I am always finding these letters that parents “write” to their kids to teach them how to live their lives, and how to see themselves. One of my favorites is Tina Fey’s letter in her book Bossy Pants. I would love to see what my husband’s letter would say to Lucy.

Eric in ATL

My daughter is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen. I understand that I have a certain fatherly bias, but it’s true. Wherever we go, strangers approach and comment on how cute Lucy is, what pretty eyes she has, and how big her cheeks are. Women pinch her cheeks in public and tell us how lucky we are to have such a beautiful baby. This terrifies me, not because they are strangers, but because of how it will share the way Lucy thinks about herself.
Every woman I know struggles with self-image. Every one. 
Self-image dictates so many aspects of the lives of the women closest to me. Health, exercise, intimacy, self-esteem, self-confidence, clothing, work, entertainment. How women spend money, allocate time, build relationships, and value themselves ties directly to their perception beauty. (Not to mention its impact on men. A topic for another day.) Lucy is only about a…

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