Oh Hey.

Welcome to my space. I write honestly about motherhood, finding joy, Jesus, not quite fitting in and embracing the mess. Grab a latte & let's skip the small talk. 

-Jen

No Love Goes Wasted

EXPECT A TRAIN EVERY TIME. 

I turned down the booming, familiar voice of Ryan Seacrest (anyone else have a little crush on the dude? I'm still rooting for him and Julianna Hough). 

I reread the marquee signboard displaying the suggestion preceeding the train tracks. 

This particular train track is in-between me and the freeway. It has attributed to tardiness and stress on multiple rushed mornings. Five times out of ten, the train comes and haphazardly comes to a motionless halt. The morning stopped and the stranger cars and I look around in apprehension.

I shifted our dusty Sequoia to park as the train came audibly. 

Expect a train every time. 

Yes. Yes. This feels like a wisdom needing to be practiced in my infant raising, brutiful* life. A train is coming. Something will go wrong. There will be a little one with a blowout and/or needing to poop in the potty just as you need to leave. There will be a friend who needs a hug and an "I've been there..."

Expect. 

You will be tired. Someone will say something that hurts your feelings. You will have to have that conversation. Someone will get sick and you will spend all night in the ER. Your kid will scream just at the right (WRONG! All WRONG) time. It's inevitable but guess what? Not everyone's train comes at the same time. This is why we must lean on one another. 

During my days of I'm barely hanging on stress, I repeadetly ask myself..am the only one this happens to? Surely I am the only one with no groceries in my fridge AGAIN?! Seriously who is robbing my fruit bowl? Surely every other mom has children with clean feet and bows in their hair and kids that share. Surely I am the only one who is late/sad/lost/unkept/anxious/insecure/needing a hug. 

Like Anne Lamott writes, "alone, we're doomed."

At book club last week, a group of us women sat around and talked about having people in our homes for supper. Each of us expressed the anxiousness of cooking someone a meal and letting them sit at our table. WE WERE ALL NERVOUS!

I'm feeling the humanity here, sisters. Being in it with people is so messy, but there is no other way. 

We all get nervous about something. We all want to be loved and accepted and wanted and worried our recipes won't be "good enough" for our guests.  Some of us are just really good at hiding it and pretending we don't give a damn (yours truly). 

h, sweet women. Let's do this for each other. Let's lift one another up and say, "you're enough." Speak highly of the woman you are touching elbows with; neighbors, teachers, family, friends. Make them cookies and tell them they are doing a great job, even if you do things differently than them. Chances are, they need the extra love.

No love goes wasted. 

The train is coming. Expect it. Expect the delay, the discomfort, the far less than perfect, it's coming. And guess what? Everyone has to wait for the train to pass, not just you. Your sister over there, she made a hard phone call on the way here and last week her toddler had no veggies and guess what? We are doing it. You are doing it. We are here together, look around. If you feel like no one is with you, reach out to someone. I guarantee it will be worth it. 

Love to each of you.

J

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(Brutiful- Beautiful and brutal combo made up term stolen from Glennon Melton and used on the daily)




Cleaning Out the Junk

For My Boy