Some Summer Rituals.

"In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me, there any an invincible summer." 

Albert Camus

I absolutely love each season. With all the fullness of my heart, I love every single one of them in a different way.

With the arrival of summer, I feel like a part of me is set free. Summer is for warm weather. Bathing suits. Sunscreen. Messy hair. Barbecues. Fireworks. Late nights on the porch. Camping.

And now that it is summer, I am happy to revisit my summer traditions:

1. No makeup. Yep, you read that correctly. I try not to wear any makeup in the summer! If it's a special occasion, I'll get crazy and put on some mascara, but for the most part, I go completely makeup-free for about 3-4 months. I can't tell you how amazing this little tradition has been for me AND my skin.

2. Curly Hair. When summer rolls around, I try to just let my hair do what it wants. No blowdrying, no straightening. Just big, messy and crazy curls. Sometimes, it drives me nuts, but it's good to just let it be for a while. And, it's a LOT easier and I get so much more time in the mornings!

3. Wake up earlier. I try to be awake, showered, dressed with coffee in-hand by 7:30am.

4. Go to bed later. Yeah, combined with #3, I get less sleep during the week. But, it stays light here until about 9:00pm, and I'm going to enjoy every second of it. So, I go to bed much later than I usually do. Around 10:30 or 11:00.

5. Get out! I make an effort to leave the house and do something every day. Yep. Every. Single. Day. Whether that's go to the river, lay in the sun in my backyard, or just go to the grocery store, I try to leave the house every day.

6. Write Letters. I think about people I haven't spoken to in a while, people I care about, people who are in other countries, and I actually hand-write letters to them. There's nothing better than getting a beautiful, heart-felt letter in your mailbox from a friend in the summertime... telling you of their adventures in life.

What do YOU do every summer?

Living afresh.

I confess that my blog has gone neglected for a few days lately.

Not out of lack of desire for writing, but rather because of... well, life. With Erik out of town, my spare time is limited. When I do have a few moments to myself while the boy naps, I'm usually making it a priority to shower, or get things done around the house. Finding time to write even while Rowan was awake didn't use to be a problem... but you see, he's now mobile. 

Yes, my almost-six-month-old is crawling, and he crawls FAST. Long gone are the days of setting him down with a couple of toys and walking away to fold laundry. No, no. If he is on the ground, so am I. I'm not going through great lengths to baby-proof my house since we'll be moving out of it in two short weeks... so I'm opting to be on the ground, barricading him from sockets, door stops and dog food.

At first, I was kind of annoyed. I liked the safety. It was easy. But now, I absolutely love it. It's terrifying, to be sure... but it's hilarious and fun and wild and exciting to see my little boy experience the world differently than he did only three weeks ago.

I watch him grab new things with wonder, or spot his dogs from across the room and revel in the fact that he can get to them himself. I don't need to call them over to us, he just stalks them (the dogs are rather annoyed at his newfound mobility. Now that he can move, our pups will know no peace).

While I watch and smile at my own son's delight, I am reminded of the One who delights in us as we experience new things and live life afresh. 

Though the world that we are bound to now is broken and cracked in some of it's most sacred places, I am reminded that there is so much here to enjoy, to learn, to experience, to feel and to love.

There is an eternal prize, yes and Amen. But I refuse to ignore His simple wonders on this journey's path.

There will come a day when all is made new and beauty is restored and His Kingdom will reign forever... but His Kingdom is breaking through already - here, on Earth, in this very spot, right beneath our noses, in the smallest and simplest ways.

What new experience are you living today?

Overwhelmed.

Cardboard boxes.

Signing leases.
Six months.
Choosing what furniture to bring.
Do I take my WHOLE kitchen?
Certainly the coffee pot.
What about the blender?
Do I bring lamps?
Pictures for the walls?
Am I being frivolous?
Do I need to bring so much stuff?
What about Rowan?
His crib.
His changing table.
His clothes for 9 months.
His clothes for one year.
Oh. My. Lord.
He's going to fit into 12 month clothing?
OUCH! He bit me!
Wait, is that a tooth?
Erik, quick! Hold him!
You won't get to see him much once we move.
Packing.
U-Haul.
We need more boxes.
Will we need a trailer, or a full truck?
I need more coffee.

PAUSE.
Travel to Denver and Salt Lake City.
RESUME.

Okay, we're back in Portland.
Keep packing.
Keep planning.
Who will help us unload once we're there?
Wow, I really won't know anybody.
Except the river.
I know the river.
I know the sunshine.
Will those be my only friends?
Is that enough?
Will I be lonely? Sad? Frustrated?
What about the DVDs?
Do we bring them all?
Just our favorites?
Should we bring books?
Which ones?
Tolstoy? CS Lewis? JK Rowling?
What about church?
I'll miss my church.
Rick's sermons.
Luke's sermons.
Love Portland.
High school kids.
Heather's British accent.
The nursery workers know Rowan now.
Where will I go to church?
Will they love Rowan just the same?
Will they love me just the same?

PAUSE.
Breathe.
RESUME.

I'm going to miss our friends.
Will they miss me?
Should we bring our printer?
I'm not sure we'll need it.
What about trash cans?
We'll probably need those.
Rowan needs a nap.
Should we bring all of our towels?
It's just six months.
I can rewash.
The whole bed, or just the mattress?
I say the whole bed.
Erik says just the mattress.
Typical.
Ranger! Shasta! Stop barking!
Will my dogs run away with no fence?
What if a bear comes on the land?
That would suck.
I could use a cupcake right about now.
I need to forward our mail.
I need to find a pediatrician.
Get all the records sent.
Oh shoot, I have to reschedule his next appointment.
The dogs need to see the vet soon.
Ranger! For the love, PLEASE stop barking!
Shoot, Rowan's awake.
Should I pack up all of our dry food?
Or just some of it?
I need to go to the grocery store.
Little brother comes to dinner tonight.
I think he's bringing his buddy.
What am I going to cook?
Does the new place have a dishwasher?
I think she said it does...


... I am overwhelmed.

Lord, grant me peace.

What overwhelms you? How do you calm down?

Thankful on a Thursday - Motherhood.

As you are probably aware by now, I don't really write on matters of motherhood. This is for a lot of different reasons... some of which I can divulge at your request, but regardless... I just don't really do it.

But today... well, today has been a DAY. One for the record books here in this house. And it's only 2:45pm.

All before I sat down for some lunch:

I've been pooped on.
I've been peed on.
I've been puked on.
The boy refused to nap.
The boy refused to eat.
The laundry is still wet in the washer.
I never got a shower.
He wanted to be held, so I held him.
But he also wanted to be on his tummy, so I put him down.
He screamed at everything.

But now... NOW, my friends, I have victory. He is napping.

And I am tired.

As I sit here, exhausted and drained from taking care of a five month old who just didn't want to stop today, I can't really do anything but giggle and be thankful.

I'm a mommy!

My little boy, Rowan, knows me as his mommy. He loves me. No, actually... he ADORES me. He squeals in delight when he catches my eye and he flashes the cutest gummy smile you've ever seen.

It's the greatest job in the world, being a mom. Even though I have to wipe poop off my hands and pee off the side of the changing table... even though I pass by my full washer & throw on a dirty pair of jeans for the 4th day in a row... even though I haven't showered and I can start to smell myself...

I am happy. Joyful. Overwhelmed by God's grace and His blessing.

I am so thankful today.

What are YOU thankful for this Thursday?

Please share your Thankful on a Thursday post with the link sharer below!

81. The ridiculous moments of motherhood.

82. Good reminders that the grass isn't always greener on the other side.

83. The way he prays for us at the beginning of meals & in the darkness before sleep.

84. A long, hot shower after a long, weary morning.

85. Sunshine peeking through the clouds... at this very moment.

86. Good, wholesome movies that provide deep belly laughs. 

87. I have a husband with an adventurous heart.

88. I see my grandfather's face showing in the smiles of my boy... and I'm reminded of his kindness.

89. Eugene Peterson and his work, "The Message."

90. Grace, Grace, Grace is new every morning, with every breath.

It's the weekend.

The weekend drove up quickly, drenched in a bright blue sky. 

I'll spend the next few days outside, so I have to tell my computer "goodbye."

So off I go to play, I must bid you all adieu. 

But not without a picture of an adorable boy in blue.

Happy Weekend!

Confessions

My friend Haley and I went out last night and shared some excellent conversation over a couple of excellent Portland beers at the Lucky Lab. It's so refreshing to be able to lay all of your crap out on the table for someone to see and speak into. It was good for my heart, to be sure. We talked about everything... my fear of having another kid, the mama drama of breastfeeding vs. formula feeding, our love and weird fascination with Lady Gaga, discipleship, and even our pride. During the conversation, I felt the motivation to post some of my crap here, for all the world to see... a confession of sorts. I'm going to list out some of the things that I feel like I need to work on in my life, and I hope that you'll ask me about them regularly and help keep me accountable.

Wanna join me? It's risky. It's vulnerable. But I have a sneaking suspicion that it's worth it.

Things You Don't Know About Me... But You Should

1. I swear a LOT.
2. I'm a blame-shifter.
3. I have a really bad sense of entitlement.
4. I get road rage.
5. I watch crass & inappropriate comedy movies... and I laugh at them.
6. I don't particularly care about my neighbors.
7. I listen to rap music... and I listen to Lady Gaga... and I like it.
8. I'm afraid of commitment. 
9. I'm pretty materialistic. 
10. I hold grudges.

What do YOU need to work on?

wherein i disclose my past hatred of women.

Up until my sophomore year of college, I can say that I unapologetically hated women.

I was an estrogen-loathing tomboy who saw absolutely no value in having my particular female anatomy. Being a woman was something that I despised deeply, and it caused parts of my heart to grow dark and cage itself in steel. Women were way too complicated. They were dramatic, over-emotional, and calculating. Those qualities really came into view during that once-a-month sideshow we all know and despise. Most women that I knew were more worried about what color eye shadow to buy rather than the genocide happening in Sudan. Most women I knew used daggers and knives for words. The scars on my heart and mind have grown thick since then, but still have a tendency to burn upon remembrance of the unfriendly.

I eventually came to the realization that I did not know many women. Then, I met "The Group."

When I met Nancy, she was leading a small group, comprised mostly of high school youth group volunteers. I knew all of the women, since I was an intern at the local church for the high school ministry. Or should I say, I thought I knew these women. I had written them off as "just like the rest of them," simply because they wore nice jeans, cute shoes and actually cared enough to curl their hair. Little did I know, their depth and sincerity went much deeper than their designer denim.

I was very resistant at first. Nancy could probably tell you this story better than I can, but the first night I went to the group, I was asked, "Why did you decide to come to the group?" I responded, "I'm not sure. I don't particularly like women, especially in groups. I don't really know why God has me here."

But I quickly came to the realization that God, a man of few words and a refreshing sense of humor, had great plans for my time with those women. And over the next few years, He changed and molded my heart, like play dough in the hands of a two year old. Before I knew it, these women were able to see through my heart like a freshly-cleaned window. They saw the cage, the darkness, the scars. These women unlocked the cage, showed me light, and healed some deep wounds caused by many insincere and hurtful relationships. They reminded me of my value, they encouraged me to share, they spoke with clarity, vision and a deep sense of wisdom.

I realize that many of you have scars that resemble my own. I know the bitterness that lingers on your skin after another woman has scathed you with hurtful words and actions. I know what it's like to stand on the outside of a circle. It's lonely, scary and sometimes it hurts. But I'm here to tell you that there are millions of us, and there are millions of women like the women that I have grown to love... and they are aching for your presence! You bring something unique to the table. Don't be afraid to show it to the world because a group of women in your past couldn't be anything but hurtful.

If you're reading this and you're in a place of bitterness and hurt, I'm here to tell you it's time to get back on the horse, sister. You have two options here:

1. You can keep being bitter. You can keep your gifts and talents to yourself, and bury them in the ground along with your hopes for some real girlfriends who love you and value you. 
2. You can get up off your butt and do what God is calling you to do: be in sincere relationships with others (Acts 2:42-47).

What's your story with women? How would you rewrite it?

Fight the Frump.

Yes. This is me wearing a Snuggie.

I'll be honest. Being a stay-at-home mom is pretty sweet. My job is to take care of my kid, take care of my hubs, take care of my dogs and take care of my house. I never, ever, EVER in a million years thought that I'd be doing this full-time, but here I am. It's a pretty sweet gig and for the most part, I really enjoy it.

One of the biggest perks of being a full-time mom is the ability to stay in my pajamas all day. ALL. DAY. I can roll out of bed, brush my teeth, throw on a little deodorant, whip my hair into a ponytail and voila! I'm ready for my day at home. This is especially true on those days where housework is the priority of the day and I have no plans to go anywhere. My biggest plans are probably an hour-long snuggle with a very adorable child.

While this is incredibly convenient and downright pleasurable on the cold and rainy days, I have to say that I kinda feel gross and unproductive when I just stay in sweats all day. Don't get me wrong, there's a time and a place for my SpongeBob Squarepants pajama pants and my endless collection of hoodies. But, this week is not one of those times.

Sarah Mae, over at Like a Warm Cup of Coffee, is hosting the "Get Dressed Challenge." For the entire week, starting today, she's challenging all of us Stay-At-Home Mamas to get our butts out of bed early, hop in the shower, get dressed and even DO OUR HAIR by 8:00am.

What?! No messy ponytail-bun-knot-thing?  Nope. Not this week.

This week, my face will even see a little bit of makeup. For those of you that know me, you can pick your jaws up off of the floor now.

In all truth, you won't see me in a dress this week, nor a pair of slacks or khakis. Not because I don't want to wear them, but rather because the only thing I own that fits after serious weight-loss are a few select pairs of jeans. But, I'm making the effort to look a little cute and at least a little more put-together. I'm even going to take Melissa's (from The Inspired Room) advice and get dressed head to toe... shoes and all. I'll probably pick Vans over heels, but hey... I've still gotta be me on some level.

So, for this week, The Outdoor Wife has been declared a No Frump Zone. All of you Stay-At-Home Mamas... you wanna give it a shot with me?

beauty & aging

A few weeks ago, I was in the process of straightening out my curls and waves with my hair straightener. I was separating out a large section from around my temple and behind my ear when I saw something a little different. Several hairs... about 10 or so... seemed MUCH lighter than the rest of my brown hair. I leaned over the bathroom counter to push my head closer to the mirror. "That's strange, I haven't had highlights in years," I thought to myself. The texture of those hairs was a little different, too. Thicker than the rest. I took one of the hairs and gently wrapped it around my index finger a couple of times. After I confirmed its firm placement, I gave it a good yank, pulling the hair out of my head straight from the root. I unwrapped it, straightened it out between the fingers of my two hands and looked at it intently.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said to myself out loud. 

Yes, indeed, my friends. That hair was as grey as the Portland skies in the wintertime.

I couldn't believe it. I really, honestly, could NOT believe that I had grey hairs already. And not just one, but several grey hairs. My heart started to beat a little faster. My mind went racing and I couldn't stop thinking about it for days. I was obsessed over the fact that I had grey hairs growing on my precious scalp, amongst the rest of my hair that everyone has always complimented. 

"I'm only 27 years old. I'm too young for grey hair," I told myself over and over again.

I immediately made a hair appointment with Jena, my beloved stylist with whom I trust my locks of shiny brown goodness. I was going to see her in a few days' time. Good timing, I needed a hair cut anyway. 

In those few days in between, I thought deeply about my new discovery. I thought about why I wanted to color over the grey... my proof that I'm getting older. I'm not sure why, but something about coloring my hair... I didn't feel right about it. So, I gave in to my gut instinct and changed my appointment from a cut AND color to just a hair cut. 

Even though they were much shorter after the implementation of my sassy new haircut, the grey hairs were still there... both on and in my head. Why was I obsessing about this so much? 

A week later, Erik and I went to have dinner with our friends, the Nelson family. Kurt and Donna are an amazing couple. They've raised two grown kids who are close to my age, and Donna recently fought and won a battle against breast cancer... albeit after a double mastectomy. 

We were sitting around their dinner table enjoying an amazing pasta dish and good red wine. Donna was holding Rowan - talking to him and snuggling him. Rowan, of course, reached for a fist-full of Donna's grey, shoulder-length hair. She chuckled at him and opened his fingers to release the hairs from his grasp. 

In the middle of this little moment, Donna looked at Rowan through her cute green-framed glasses with a smile and said, "Hey there, don't take my hair out! I've earned every single one of those grey hairs!"

We all chuckled, but my mind was already turning its wheels.

What if, instead of being so afraid of the grey, we actually took a different posture towards aging and beauty? Things would be radically different, wouldn't they? The beauty industry would never embrace such a thing, nor would Hollywood. If it doesn't make us look younger & more beautiful by the world's standards, it's not a good thing. Even though I had a loving mother who always told me that real beauty was held in my heart, I was not isolated from the Cover Girl ads, or the Victoria's Secret catalogs, or the Pantene Pro-V commercials. The idea that beauty was held strictly in my appearance had dug its heels into my mind over the course of several years.

What if we allowed something else to define our beauty? 

Instead of coloring our hair to cover up the proof of inevitability, why not embrace it? Why not think about earning every one of those grey hairs? 

Donna has raised two amazing kids of her own. She's maintained a phenomenal marriage to a great guy. She's taught & molded hundreds of children in public schools. She battled and won a fight against cancer. She has lived life, and she has lived it fully! Donna has absolutely earned every single grey hair on her beautiful head.

I haven't lived as much life as Donna, nor have I accomplished nearly as much as she has. But I'm only 27 years old. But, I have survived a lot in my short lifetime. I've come a long way in 27 years! 

Instead of hiding it with semi-permanent color, I'm going to embrace the grey. 

I'm proud to say that at the tender age of 27 years, I've earned a few grey hairs of my own.

______________________

I saw this video at a women's event at my church. Take a look, and tell me what you think. 

Thankful on a Thursday - Overwhelmed.

I

've been overwhelmed lately.

I've been overwhelmed by a burdening sense of perfectionism. 

I need to be the perfect woman. The perfect stay at home wife and mother. If my husband is going to bust his butt at his job all day, you better believe that I'll do the same. Therefore, my house must be perfectly clean at all times. So help me God if the laundry basket still has clothes in it. Our son should be happy and smiling every minute that he's awake. Dishes in the sink? Not in my house! 

I need to be the perfect wife to my husband. I can't let him see that our impending six-month move is affecting me in any way. I certainly can't let him see that I'm sad about it or worried that the loneliness will consume me once we settle into our rental house, 240 miles away from our community of friends and support here in Portland. Because, if I'm the perfect wife, those things won't affect me at all, right? I mean "home is where the heart is" and that should be wherever my family happens to be. It would be imperfect of me to worry and have any sense of distrust. 

I need to be the perfect writer. I can't just write to write. If I'm going to say something, it needs to be intentional and it needs to be perfect. If my purpose is to encourage other women, I certainly can't just throw anything out into the blogosphere and expect people to read. Oh, and of course I need to write every day. That's crucial to my perfection. I can't let housework, my kid or my marriage get in the way, so I also need to be perfect with my time management. 

And of course, I also need to be the perfect Christian woman. Humble, soft-spoken, gentle, kind, compassionate... making time to read & study God's word every day. I need to always have a desire to learn and grow. Laziness and apathy are never an option. I need to see God in everything, everywhere through everyone. 

Honestly, who can function under that kind of pressure?

Perfection is like a mountain that's impossible to climb.

It's astonishing how quickly I can believe a lie. I need to be perfect. Really? Says who? Certainly not the Lord. If I was perfect, I wouldn't need Grace. If I was perfect, I wouldn't need Christ. If I was perfect, I would BE Christ. I certainly can't claim that crown.

So, as I read through God's Word, I'm reminded of the freedom that I'm provided. Freedom from burdening myself with perfection. I was never asked to be perfect. I was only asked to follow Him. I'm deeply thankful for the freedom to do so.

What are YOU thankful for this Thursday?

31. Tiny hands and big squeals.

32. Journal pages full of questions, thoughts and prayers.

33. His strong hand on my face during a gentle kiss goodbye.

34. Meeting a new and inspiring friend. Loving an old & true friend from a distance.

35. My church. My home. My community.

36. Wearing his comfy, grey sweatpants when he's out of town.

37. A good page-turner. 

38. How this post refocused my love for Scripture.

39. Gussy Ruffles now holding my jewelry.

40. Knowing that I'm not expected to be perfect... just faithful.

Thankful on a Thursday - God's timing is not my own.

This past week, I've been humored and puzzled by God's timing.

You've felt that, right? You feel like you've been praying for something for ages, or have sought out something for months... yet, nothing comes of your efforts. Then, out of the blue, at a seemingly inopportune time, the prayers are answered and you begin to see God's movement. 

That's been me lately. 

When I was living in Colorado, I was a part of a small group of amazing women. And when I say amazing, I mean it in every sense of the word. 

They loved Jesus. 

They chased after Him. 

They were encouraging. 

They challenged me.

It was this beautiful relationship, formed only by God's grace. We were all SO different... yet every Monday night, we came together and learned together. We shared our lives and our hearts. This group changed the way that I felt about women. 

Since Erik and I moved to Portland over three years ago, I've prayed fervently for a group of women that I could lean into, learn from and share my life with, just like that life-changing group in Colorado. My heart and spirit have craved it, and craved it deeply. 

Only recently has God started to move, which is why I'm puzzled. In just a short month and a half, Erik and I are moving away from Portland for six months to run the rafting company in southern Oregon. So, someone tell me, why in the world would the Lord start putting substantial women in my life right before I leave? Why now? I mean, I'm beyond moved and amazed at how God has fulfilled that desire in my heart, but... really? Now? Could it not have waited until we moved down there? 

Those have been my thoughts for the past week. But, after thinking, praying and pondering... 

I've decided to stop wondering why, and just say "thank you" to the Lord for listening. 

What are you thankful for this Thursday?

21. Good & honest conversation with good & honest women.

22. Bluebird mornings.

23. Breakfast for dinner.

24. Handwritten notes with words of deep encouragement.

25. Daffodils in every front yard on out street.

26. Taking a great picture.

27. Big, gummy smiles.

28. Snuggling into a fluffy couch after a busy day.

29. Holding hands while watching a movie.

30. God's timing.

motivation: q&a about this blog

A few days ago, I was chatting with a dear friend. We started talking about my efforts here at The Outdoor Wife, and she asked some really good questions that I think need to be addressed. She's a true friend and always seems to get to the root of my heart and motivations. I'm blessed to know her, but MAN she can give a butt-kicking when I need it!

Anyway, I think I need to answer those questions here, out loud, for everyone to read. It seems that everyone has a voice & opinion on the subject of blogging, so I thought I'd offer up my thoughts on why I decided to start this one. I'll post the questions that my friend asked, along with some others that I've been asked through different venues, and also questions that I've pondered in my own heart.


Why did you start a blog, anyway?
To be honest, I started it initially because I felt like I had a story to tell. Is my story better than anyone else's? Of course not. In fact, I think we all have stories of life, love and transformation, and I would hope that everyone would find a way to share their own. This seemed the best way for me to share my own story of what I've been through, how I'm being changed now, and where I'm headed. I knew that what the Lord has been doing in my life could be encouraging to other women, so I felt compelled to write and share. So, I guess that's the main reason why I started this. To encourage other women to experience deeper intimacy with Christ through my own story and experiences, and to encourage women to live out their own story, live a life of adventure, and try something new.

So are you what people would call a mommy-blogger?
I'm not sure how to answer that. My initial instinct would be to say "no." But, I am a mommy and I do have a blog, so if that is what makes me a "mommy blogger" than yes, I suppose I am. However, here on this blog, you won't find many pictures of my son, you'd be hard-pressed to find anecdotes about diapering, feeding and parenting, and if I'm going to review products, it most likely won't be for car seats, swings and bottles... but rather for hiking boots, skis and tents. You won't find links to vote for me in "Top Mommy Blogs" or "Top Baby Blogs" either. But, I understand that a lot of women who join me here are moms, so I try to offer up stories and information that's helpful and encouraging to all women, no matter their stage in life. I think I'm more of a woman-blogger. It's a little more all-encompassing.

If your sole purpose for this blog is to be used for encouragement and information, then why do you Tweet about it and try to draw people here? 
That's a great question. I tweet about my posts here because I believe in the power of personal experience and story. If there is even a remote chance that what I'm learning from God can be useful or encouraging to someone else out there, I feel compelled to share it and spread the word. Being vulnerable and honest about my own personal transformation isn't something that comes easily to me, but I'm learning & being encouraged by a lot of people in my life to keep going, to keep writing. So, I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing, and just pray that what I write here would be used for good.

Are your website analytics more important to you than you lead people to believe?
As for this question, I won't lie, I have Google Analytics installed into the code of my blog so I can track visits and learn more about where my visitors are from (I had a couple hits from IRAN! Can you believe it?!) Do I really care about how many hits I get in a day? Not really. What I DO care about is what people gain by visiting. I'm not here to play devil's advocate, to stir the pot, or to talk about the latest controversy hitting the blogosphere. I'm not saying those things are bad, they're just not my purpose here. My goal is to lift up, encourage, and speak truth. If that's what people leave with, then I've done my job.

And you want to know something interesting? The post that usually gets the most visits every week is "Thankful on a Thursday." Maybe people just want to be encouraged, lifted up and reminded of the good in life?

What about giveaways? Those are usually just to promote your brand and create traffic. If you don't care about hits, why do them?
Ah. This is an easy one to answer. You know why I do giveaways? Because chances are, there are other women out there like me who just can't afford little luxuries right now. They've given up a second income to stay home with their kid. They just lost their job due to budget cuts. They're the typical broke college student. I know how that feels and I know it deeply. I would LOVE to be able to buy little things for myself, like a cute ruffly bag from Gussy, or new stationery from My Little Buffalo. But, our bank account just won't allow for those things right now, at least without some kind of discount or a chance to win them for free. So, I offer giveaways as a blessing to those women who just can't afford something pretty & nice for themselves right now. If it brings more visitors here, fine. But, I hope they walk away with something more than just an entry to a giveaway contest.

What about money-making with this blog? Do you make money? Do you want to make money?
No, I don't make a dime of money from writing here. Not one penny! I don't have any affiliate links or sponsor buttons on my sidebar. Any link that you see here is because I enjoy the site and I want to share it, and any products that I review are because I already own them and I wasn't given a freebie. For example, I just posted a gear list yesterday. They are all items that I own, recommend and love. After each item, there's a link where you can purchase that piece... I do NOT get any money or promotion from you clicking that link and purchasing that product. I simply offer it for your shopping convenience.

As for the second question, I don't have any intention of making money with this blog. I'm not seeking out ways to create revenue and I'm not pursuing partnerships with companies or other blogs that I enjoy. However, just because I'm not pursuing those, doesn't mean I'm not open to it. If I was approached and asked for ad space, or if someone wanted to partner with me that would eventually lead to a stream of income, I can't say that I'd decline the offer. I mean, you know how life can get, right? Living on one income is HARD! A little extra cash can go a long way in our house! However, I never want money or income to be the driving force behind why I write what I do. My motivation is simple: the readers who visit. 


Alright, friends. That just about covers it. Of course, if you have any other questions for me regarding my motivations here, don't hesitate to ask. I want to be open and honest about the goings-on of The Outdoor Wife. I don't want you to feel like you're just a byproduct of some master plan to take over the world. Your lives and hearts, as well as my own, are the reasons I write what I do here. I hope you're lifted and touched every time you visit.

Thankful on a Thursday - God is Gentle.

Sometimes, I question God. 

Whether it's through the mechanisms of anger, frustration or fear... I question His motives, His Word and the calling that He's placed on me.

I stand frustrated at the sink.

I'm washing bottles, again. I have our little TV monitor perched on the countertop so I can see Rowan's progression towards his nap. He's not sleeping. He's screaming. I'm aware that I could go upstairs, wrap him in the swaddle that we're trying to break him of, and he'd go right to sleep. The cries coming from the little speaker make every hair on my body stand on end. I can't take it anymore. My back hurts. I feel like I spend hours at this sink. Bottles, dirty dishes, preparing dinner. Seemingly endless hours of work that comes with no thanks. Trying to get it all done, in the midst of the screaming.

Through my clinched jaw and aching back, I question God. 

"Really, Lord? You had me leave full-time ministry to stand here and wash bottles while listening to an unrepentant non-napper scream at the top of his lungs? I thought we had a good thing going at the church. I don't understand why you would call me home to this. I'm tired. I need a break. Why this? I wanted to go back to work."

After Rowan has napped, I hear him making a bit of noise. Tired and a little grouchy, I walk to the edge of his crib and lean over. Just then, God gently answered my question. Rowan catches sight of me and smiles a big, toothless smile and squeals in delight. 

"That's why," God says. 

I stand paralyzed in fear in the front entryway of the house.

Clutched between sweaty palms, I hold the next round of bills that need to be paid this month. Electric, water and gas, all at once. With the dwindling dollar amount of our bank account burned into my memory, I open the envelopes. I'm scared. I have no idea how we're going to pay for these. Not only do we need to pay bills, but Erik's motorcycle needs new tires. Badly. He can't keep driving it like that, it's not safe. What are we going to do? We can't pay bills and pay for new tires in the same month. I don't even know if we can pay the bills alone. 

Through shaking hands and fear in my eyes, I question God.

"Really, Lord? We were doing okay when I was working. We weren't rolling in the money, but we could pay all of our bills without worrying. We had a bit of spare money to pay for things like new tires. But, you called me back home. Now, I'm not sure if Erik will ever get to ride the motorcycle again. There's no way we can afford this right now. We were doing great when I was bringing home a paycheck, too."

After setting the bills on the counter, I sift through the rest of the mail. What looks like another bill from my doctor's office sits in the pile. "Crap," I think. "Another one." I open up the envelope in fear, imagining I'd find another medical bill to add to the pile. God gently responded to my questioning. Instead, I stand speechless as I hold a check for $400 with a note that says somewhere throughout the pregnancy, we had overpaid. They were reimbursing us. Erik's tires would have cost almost $400 altogether. 

"I've got you covered," God says.

I sit in anger on the couch. 

Alone again, Erik is out of town for work. I'm tired, I've been taking care of Rowan a lot on my own lately. I'm angry. I want my husband home. I'm lonely. None of my friends can come over to hang out in the middle of the day, they all have jobs. Rowan isn't napping well and I just want someone to help me out. Sometimes, mom needs a break too. I get angry at Erik from a distance, believing the lie that tells me he is putting his career over his family. I start to cry.

Through quiet tears of anger, I question God.

"Really, Lord? Why in the world are we still stuck with Erik in this job. He doesn't get paid enough to work as hard & long as he does. He's away from his family too much. I need him home, but for some reason, you've put it on his heart that he needs to stick this out. Well, you know what? I think it's a crappy idea. He travels too much, we have to leave our home for the summer to live in a crappy small town in southern Oregon, we'll have no friends & I'll never see him." And then it came... what I was trying to say. How my heart really felt. "I don't trust You."

It's a Sunday night, and Erik returns home after a four day trip to Seattle for work. I'm still a little angry, and I'm feeling a little heartbroken from being alone for so long. He walks upstairs into the TV room where I sit watching a movie. He smiles at me, handsomely standing there in his blue shirt and slacks. God gently responded to my distrust. "I'm home," Erik says. I stand to give him a hug and a kiss. He holds me tight. I look into his eyes and through them, I am reassured.

"You can trust him. You can trust me," God says.

God is gentle with me. He's kind. He's honest and He's resilient. He can take my abuse, my questioning and distrust. And through his kindness and faithfulness, I am humbled by him and made aware of my behavior. Today, I have many things to be thankful for, even though I fall so short when it comes to being faithful to God. 

What are you thankful for this Thursday?

11. The gentle touch of his hand on my back when I roll over in bed.

12. Little feet that kick and bend when I'm trying to put them into pijamas.

13. The beautiful pages of a new Bible, waiting to be worn with love.

14. The calming sound of rain dripping through the drain pipe.

15. Blooming cherry blossoms in March. 

16. Tiny fingers that try to hold the bottle on his own.

17. The relaxing sensation that only comes with a mug of hot tea.

18. Ben & Jerry's "Half Baked" Frozen Yogurt.

19. Sore hands and feet after a day spent cleaning the house.

20. God's gentleness in the face of my unfaithfulness.

Thankful on a Thursday.

      

Back in high school, I was part of a tight-knit group of four. The other three were friends long before I came around, but they welcomed me with open arms and a love for choir music. Oh yes. Yours truly was a choir geek. AND an orchestra geek, too. My geekyness was balanced out with years serving in student government and playing varsity sports, so I did have street cred somewhere.

Anyway, the four of us were pretty inseparable my senior year of high school. Two of us had serious boyfriends and two of us spent hours pining after guys who would never look our direction. We sang in the car. We toilet-papered people's houses. We screamed our heads off at football games. We debated the pros and cons of whether we'd have kids one day. We fought intensely and fiercely during the weeks that UNC, Duke and NC State would play basketball against each other. We freaked out together when we got our college acceptance letters. They taught me the rules of wearing makeup. We were your classic case of goofy, awesome and hilarious high school misfit besties. And wouldn't you know it, but one of those girls was Blair.  Yes.  Of Heir to Blair fame.  That very one.

I was thinking back on that year of high school and was reminded of these posters that we created called "Happy Lists." We would go to the grocery store around the corner from my house and buy big honkin' pieces of poster board. Then, we'd buy the Titanic-sized pack of Crayola markers. After that, we'd sit on the hoods of our cars in front of Blair's house and write out everything we could think of that made us happy. We'd spend hours on these beasts... making sure that all of the words were completely even, using our most crafty and spiffy handwriting. Every item that we wrote down was in a different color. After our monolithic lists were complete, they would hang in our bedrooms. Mine hung on the back of my bedroom door. I'm pretty sure it hung above my desk in my freshman dorm room, too.

My memory has faded since then and I regret saying that I'm not sure what started this movement (I still can't believe it was almost a decade ago. DECADE, I say).

After reminiscing about our Happy Lists, I was struck by how many things I could put on my list today... and I was deeply humbled. I'm humbled by everything the Lord has provided for me over the last 10 years. I'm humbled by the path that He has me on today and the things that he blesses me with every day. In that moment of reflection & pause, I felt a deep longing... a longing to speak thankfulness and praise with every breath. To constantly remind myself of what I have to be thankful for. To start making a list of His movement and blessings... both on paper and in my heart.

So, today I'm going to start Thankful on a Thursday. Every Thursday, I'll write out at least ten things that I'm thankful for and post them here at The Outdoor Wife. It's my prayer that you'll join me, whether on your own blog, or just in your heart. Join me in speaking words and breathing sighs of thankfulness and God's blessing.

Will you join me for Thankful on a Thursday? 

I'm thankful for...

1. The love & admiration of a faithful and strong man.
2. The little life of Rowan & his big presence.
3. The smell of coffee in the morning.
4. Blooming cherry blossoms in the heart of the city.
5. The encouragement of steadfast friends.
6. Full pages of answered prayers in my journal.
7. The way both dogs snuggle against me to stay warm in the mornings.
8. Our Netflix subscription.
9. Seasons of pause and reflection.
10. The chocolate chip pancakes we eat every Sunday morning.  

A crafty victory.

On Saturday, I made an effort to be crafty. As you'll read below, I'm not a very crafty person AT ALL. I'm not very creative when it comes to art, but I decided to forego all of of my fears and insecurities about the situation and just go for it. The worst thing that could happen is I staple my hand to some wood. Or, it all looks awful and I threw some money away. Now that I think about it, both of those things would have been terrible.

But, lucky for me, I think it turned out okay!

The first thing I did was set out to create my "art." I went to Michael's, where canvases of all shapes and sizes were on sale, AND everything in the store was marked down 30%. So, I scored two canvases that measured 12"x24" and two others that measured 12"x12" for super cheap!

Next, I went to the Mill End store where I picked out some fabrics that would add color, but not overpower the senses. Hopefully, they weren't "too girly" as my husband says. I found some great patterns that were on super-sale! I bought a half a yard each of four different fabrics.

Materials? Check. 

That night after we got Rowan into bed, we popped in the first disc of Alias, Season 5 and I went to town. I ironed out all of the fabrics. I cut the fabrics to size. Then, I started wrapping. It was much easier than I expected! I started on one side and stapled the fabric to the backside of the frame with the staple gun. I then stretched the fabric to the opposite side. After tops and bottoms were stapled, I moved to the sides. Stretching, stapling, carefully folding corners so it would look smooth. 

After repeating this for all four canvases, I was done! The next morning, Erik helped me hang them in the pattern I imagined, and it looked good... but the wall was much too big and the art was much too small. So, I poked around online, trying to find some accessories that would work next to my newly-wrapped canvases.

Praise the Lord for Target and Ikea! I found some great little cube shelves to put on either side of the collage at Target ($10 for two!) and Ikea had a great paper-shade lamp for $10 and two vanilla, glass-enclosed candles for $1 each. 

After a massive meltdown from Rowan at Target, I came home & got him to bed. Once he was down, I finished my project! Make sure you click on the picture to see it in full. 

What do you think? Not too bad, huh?
 The color adds a LOT to the room! 

And I did it for under $40!

Inked: Part 1

"Inked" is a five-part story about my journey bringing my son, Rowan, into the world.
______________

On Saturday afternoon, I went to get my tattoo.

I actually already had a tattoo, prior to my newest piece I received on Saturday. It was, what I thought, a rebellious thing to do when I was 18 years old. I made the effort to prove that I wasn't everyone's favorite good-girl. I wasn't just a good-student, never-did-anything-wrong, teacher's-pet kinda girl. I could be bad if I wanted to! But, upon showing my mother my tattoo, she laughed and called it "cute." Apparently, the dime-sized blue star on the top of my foot wasn't exactly hardcore.

9 years later and almost a decade of life lived since the falsely rebellious incident, I decided that I wanted to get another tattoo. But, this one was different. It had meaning, memories and experience behind it.

Bringing Rowan into the world was no easy task for me. My friend Lisa actually said that I had the most difficult pregnancy ever witnessed.

My journey was a battle of epic proportion.
______________

The first half of my pregnancy was pretty textbook. Morning sickness, fatigue, weight gain... the usual. Nothing out of the ordinary except a very small cyst on my right ovary that my doctor spotted during my first ultrasound. It was only about 8mm in size. It's not uncommon for women to have small ovarian cysts right after they become pregnant, due to the increased hormones that the body produces during that time.

Jump to 20 weeks, to our full-anatomy ultrasound. We were completely over the moon, we found out we were having a boy. A surprise, but not really. I think we both knew in our hearts that we would have a little boy. He was amazing on that little screen, growing perfectly and completely healthy. We saw his tiny hands, feet, spine and heartbeat. The ultrasound tech was frustrated because he wouldn't stop moving. It was overwhelmingly joyful. After the ultrasound, we went to see my doctor for the routine checkup.

She came in with a broad smile. "Good news, your baby boy is perfect! He looks great." Erik and I smiled. We beamed with excitement. It was all becoming real. We started imagining his little nose. His first pair of ski boots. His favorite bedtime stories.

Her smile faded. "Bad news, that cyst is now the size of a baseball." Erik and I didn't smile. We became very scared, very fast. This could NOT be real. I started imagining needles. Tubes. Monitors. Tests. Chemotherapy.

"This is serious, Nish. It's big, and we don't know what it is. It's now more dangerous to leave it than try to take it out. We need to get it out, and fast."

I met with a cancer surgeon. I was booked for emergency surgery on July 1st, our third wedding anniversary.

The plan was to go in with a scope... only three small incisions on my belly, minimally invasive, very low risk to the baby and to me. I was still scared. They wheeled me into the operating room and I was already somewhat drugged with a sedative to keep me calm. Both my OB and the surgeon were there, and they were reassuring women to see. I laid there on the cold table, terrified. The tears started to fall. I felt really cold. The anesthesiologist brought me a warm blanket. The oxygen mask was placed on my face. Both women entrusted to care for me & my unborn baby came to both sides of the table. They each grabbed a hand & squeezed. I saw their eyes crinkle from their reassuring & sympathetic smiles, which I couldn't see behind their masks. "We're going to take care of you & your little boy. We promise."

I nodded. I cried. I fell asleep.

The original plan failed. My ovary had lodged itself underneath my uterus, so they couldn't get to it safely with only the scope. So, they cut me open. Almost 8 inches vertically, right through my belly button. The surgeon had to reach in and move the baby over with her hand in order to get to the ovary. Close to the end of the removal, the cyst burst. They had to get all of it out, and quickly... they weren't sure if it was cancer or not yet, so there was a risk of having cancer cells all over my abdomen.

They sewed me up and wheeled me to recovery. The only thing I remember from the recovery room was both women on each side of my bed, holding my hands again. Dr. McClusky, the oncology surgeon, was smiling. Dr. Dion, my OB, leaned in close and said "It's not cancer. Your baby boy is doing beautifully."

I smiled. I cried. I fell asleep.

Recovery was awful. I had major pain complications. Even morphine didn't work. I was in the hospital for 5 days and I was at home for 5 weeks. For a normal, healthy woman, recovery time from this surgery is about 4-5 days. However, I was 20 weeks pregnant; all of my body's resources were being used to take care of the baby. So, my recovery was long, painful, and full of narcotics that I didn't want to take.

I pressed on, though I did it fairly drugged. I had a lot of help. My mom came to Portland from Texas for a week. She cooked and cleaned while I laid on the couch and watched the Tour de France. We had friends bring meals and movies. We were very loved through the whole healing process and we knew we had an army of people to call if we ever needed it.

The Lord sustained us. We were blessed by His people.

A different adventure.

It rains in Portland, Oregon. It rains a lot. It doesn't necessarily stop me from going anywhere and doing anything, but it's hard to go hike, walk, bike with a 3 month old in the rain. Sometimes we try to find other things to do, even though they might be indoors.

I've decided that I'm embarking on a different kind of adventure this weekend. I am going to TRY to be crafty. Keyword being "try" in that sentence. I am not a craft, DIY-type person. At all. Not even a little. I wish that I were, I could make all kinds of cute stuff if I had any ounce of craftiness in me. The only kind of craftiness I have is the kind that pulls EPIC pranks on people when they least expect it.

This weekend, I am putting forth an effort to do something myself and make something with my own hands. 

I'm going to make artwork for our office. And by "make artwork," I mean that I'll be pulling fabric across canvas frames. That can't be too hard, right? RIGHT?! So I'll be heading to a fabric store on the east side of town to pick out 4 different fabric patterns to make a (hopefully) cool collage of different squares. I'm pretty excited, actually! 

Canvas frames? Check. Fabric? Check. Staple gun? Check. Once I have all of those things in order, I'll be ready. And hopefully I won't go stapling my hand to the wood. Wish me luck! I'll be sure to post before and after pictures when I'm finished!

Are you crafty? How did you learn?

Wisdom Wednesday: Grab a Friend!

There are a lot of people in history who made it a point to experience creation on their own. Henry David Thoreau, of course, comes to mind. However, I'm of the belief that the outdoors are best experienced with others if you're new to this kind of lifestyle.

If you're making the effort to get outside more, here are a few simple tips that can help you get on your way with your friends.

Schedule a weekly walk/run/hike with someone.

• Scheduling something weekly will help keep your efforts regular. The more you go, the easier it gets!
• Scheduling with someone will help keep you accountable during those weeks you'd rather just sit on the couch. 

If you're trying a new outdoor sport, go with someone BETTER than you.

• This is important on several levels. The first being safety. Going with someone who has more skill and experience means they have learned the ropes of the sport, they know what risks & dangers to look for, and they'll be able to lead you safely through the trails/rapids/runs.
• Someone with more skill will be able to give you pointers, and help you learn faster than you would on your own!
• It's always fun to watch someone do something they love, and do it well. 

Try to go someplace new every trip.

• You may have a favorite loop you like to walk, or a favorite trail you enjoy hiking. But make the effort to try someplace new. The more you broaden your base of experience, the more you'll be able to lead others in the future!
• Try to pick places that have a destination. If you're going on a hike, try to hike up to a point of interest, a mountain lake, a viewpoint, or a historical spot. This gives added motivation to go, and will give you a larger list of places to bring visitors when they come to your hometown.
• Always bring your camera! You never know what you might find on a new adventure. 

a reset button.

I've never really been a morning person. However, on this particular morning, I found myself wide awake in bed at 6:30am. On any other day, I would have stayed in bed, fighting & grumbling at the fact that I was awake so early. But today, I felt like I should get up. I'm not sure why, but I felt compelled to get out of bed early this morning.

I was up early enough to watch the sky turn from navy, to grey, to baby blue. I was up early enough to make the bed, wash a round of bottles, eat breakfast, make coffee, read my Bible and write in my journal. All of this happened before 7:45... and on a Monday morning, even!

My husband has always been a morning person. He's most productive between the hours of 7:00am and noon. This morning, I got a clear glimpse into why he loves the mornings. I realized I have a lot to learn from him.

Waking up early and spending time getting ready for my day acted like a reset button to me. I've always been a fan of Mondays, mostly because I love a fresh start to my routines. Mondays are like a clean slate, or a blank page upon which I can start my story for the week. What will I choose to fill my pages with this week? This morning, I decided that I'm going to fill it with gratitude & thankfulness. Blessings upon blessings have been poured out on me, it's only appropriate to respond with gratefulness.

That's my goal for the week:  Start my day right. Early. On the right foot. With thanks, gratitude & open hands.

How are you going to fill your pages this week?

sunday outing.

Since Erik got to go out on his own adventure yesterday, I had a couple ideas of things that we could go out and do together today. Sundays are usually our days together... we eat pancakes & drink coffee in the morning, watch Meet the Press on podcast, and do a couple of chores around the house before venturing out into the world.

Today, we started out by taking the pups to the dog park. We have two dogs, Shasta and Ranger. Shasta is a 4 year old Lab/Rottweiler mix, and Ranger is a 2 year old German Shorthaired Pointer. So, they need a bit of exercise. The weather today was UNREAL! Almost 60 degrees and sunny in Portland today, for the 4th day in a row. I think this town is confused & thinks it's May.

So, we strapped Rowan in the stroller and headed out:

I know. I have an adorable child. He's seriously the cutest kid I've ever seen. I'm not biased or anything, so that assessment is totally legit. Anyway, after the dogs were good and tired from running around like crazy, Erik asked what I wanted to do next. It didn't take me long to make that decision. 

One thing you'll learn about me is that I'm a horrible cook. Like, TERRIBLE. I can make a good batch of chili and a very select few dishes, but that's about it. However, I am a really, really good baker. I absolutely LOVE to bake. Just ask my husband and anyone else who's tried my peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, or my strawberry cake with lemonade frosting. So, all of that to say, I have an affinity for baked goods.

Which is why I decided to venture into the Northwest district in downtown for a little bit of this delicious action:

Ohhhh Saint Cupcake, how I love you. Your little morsels of tastiness are sometimes too much for my little taste buds. They just want to explode with joy.

Look at these delicious creations! Vanilla cupcakes with chocolate and vanilla buttercream.

They were almost too pretty to eat.

Almost.

I ate them.

Fast. 

So, that was our lovely Sunday outing today! Now we're off to church for the Sunday evening service before coming back for a quiet night in. 

How do you spend your Sundays?