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2 month update

alyssapebbles

It’s been just over two months now with my sweet baby boy, and God has certainly been at work in my heart in very in-my-face ways as I grapple with my new reality of being a mama and all that it demands of me physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

The truth is, I’m angry.

All the emotions I thought I had processed during pregnancy, I am actually having to face now that the little guy is here. All the ways I thought I had made peace with being a mom before I felt ready have come back and slapped me in the face– I was not ready for this. Not. at. all.

I was not ready to spend all of my waking (and asleep) hours feeding, burping, being spit up on, changing diapers, stressing that we hit all the milestone activities during waketime, making sure baby is not under or over-tired, rocking to sleep for 45 minutes for each of the 5-6 naps of the day, stressing over waking up the baby when he is asleep, and then repeating all over again 5 times a day and 3 times a night. I was not ready to dedicate my whole entire being and all of my mental and physical resources to this business of new motherhood. I was not ready to be deprived of basic needs to attend to my child’s. I was not ready for the selflessness this job demands of me. And I’m angry about it.

And of course God knew all that, and has been waiting for me to be honest about it. To be honest that I feel like my life has been taken away from me, my freedom and independence. That this “gift” that He’s given me doesn’t feel so very much like a gift oftentimes, but like a huge burden that is impeding my “right” to be a young and free adult. He knows that seeing my single and married friends without kids post about their fun summer adventures on Instagram creates a deep resentment in my heart. That they can’t understand what I’m going through, as much as they want to try. He knows the growing frustration inside of me, the fact that I feel tipped over the edge of my sanity at every cry in the middle of the night and the fact that I don’t know what I’m having for dinner anymore, or if I will even have time for dinner at all. The frustration at every small sound that wakes up the baby I just spent 45 minutes trying to get to sleep. He sees the panic attacks and debilitating depression, the terrifying notion constantly in the back of my mind that I can’t do this. That I can’t take care of my own baby. He knows the guilt and the shame of it, the paralyzing fear that I am not enough for my child.

I love my son. But I am exhausted. And I honestly can’t wait for this stage to be over.

I grapple with honoring and validating my feelings at the same time as not allowing them to excuse me from this role that God has called me to. The feelings are there and very strong and I have to deal with them, but they are not the end-all-be-all, and I do believe God will change them over time. As much as I want to escape His calling on my life and go back to the comfortable life I had before, I can’t.

So I will continue in this hard season walking in the tension of what I believe and what I feel, praying each day that God will help me to see His reality clearer and clearer, instead of my own clouded vision. And I consider tools that I have never considered before to help me along the way, like medication. I trust that He is still good, even though it doesn’t feel that way right now. And I thank Him for each small blessing in my day, even when it feels like the burdens far outweigh them.

My heart is being re-made, of this I am sure. I have to believe that this process that feels like death will ultimately lead to new life.

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the home stretch

alyssapebbles

As I come nearer and nearer to my baby’s due date, it’s all feeling overwhelmingly real.

I’m really going to have a child, in like, the next few days or weeks.

I bounce between panic and joy and everything in between. Everyone wants to know how I’m feeling, and to be honest, I don’t even really know. But I know that this is happening, and I know that God is good.

I still don’t feel ready to be a mother, but I know I never will. Instead, I focus on that sweet moment when I finally get to hold this boy in my arms and look into his little eyes (which I hope are the same beautiful blue-green hazel as my husband’s!). I focus on the joy that I’m sure he is going to bring us despite all the sleepless nights that lie ahead. I focus on God and the fact that this is His plan, so He will see it through.

So we wait in anticipation for our little miracle to arrive, and meanwhile I carry on about my day with growing fatigue and discomfort, but also a growing joy. I know, deep in my heart, that this is all worth it. All the pain and fear and discomfort is going to make way for pure joy.

When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.

John 16:21

I’m reminded that this is always the way–anything worth having requires great sacrifice and often suffering. We must go through the “pregnant” period, the season of growth and laboring until there is deliverance. This pregnancy has made that very tangible.

This is only the beginning. Once our sweet boy has arrived there will be a new set of challenges, some of which may feel insurmountable, and I know I will have days where I feel like giving up. It’s easy to listen to all the lies the enemy whispers to me in the night that I don’t have what it takes and that it will all be too much. I know I will be brought to the end of myself over and over again…but that’s a good thing. That’s the only way to truly know God. It’s only at the end of myself that I will meet Him, and He will meet me. My life is not my own–what better way to live in that reality than to raise a child?

I only speak of what I know now–I’m sure my perspective will be very different soon. For now I’m working on surrendering my own life (and my child’s) to a God who loves us both more than we can ever understand.

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voices

alyssapebbles

There are so many voices in each of our lives telling us so many different things that it’s easy to become paralyzed. It’s easy to get stuck and confused and overwhelmed. We become so fearful of making the wrong decision that we don’t do anything at all. Or we gather so much information but don’t know what to do with it.

This is no way to live.

A dear friend of mine is struggling to make a big decision largely because of the cacophony of voices speaking to her from all angles, perhaps the loudest ones in her own mind. I advised her to listen only to her own voice, but what if even your own voice is conflicted? Who’s voice can we actually, truly trust? Who is the ultimate authority in our lives, the One we can turn to when nothing else makes sense?

It’s an easy Christian answer, of course, but not as easy to live out. Even God’s voice can be hard to decipher among the rest–especially when we are so used to listening to all the rest and letting them be louder. It’s easier to listen to the peripheral voices than to the Main One, because that requires effort. It requires the intentional work of quieting our souls and reading His word and discerning what He is speaking to our hearts. We have to dig.

I’m realizing I’ve been letting too many voices into my own life–good, helpful, uplifting, encouraging voices–but too many nonetheless. When I’m listening to so many others’ voices, my own and God’s gets drowned out. There is so much wisdom in listening to other voices, but never at the expense of hearing from God Himself. We can listen to all the podcasts and read all the books and follow all the influencers on Instagram and become numb to the One True Voice.

Why do we fill up on the substitutes when we have the real food available to us?

I think it’s spiritual laziness, quite frankly–at least in my case. I know the best stuff, the stuff that all the other voices are really just echoing, is in His Word. I have the very source of life accessible to me and yet I choose to listen to the echoes. I’m not saying the echoes aren’t useful and important (what I am writing to you right now is an echo!)–I’m saying that when we fill ourselves up with these voices instead of filling ourselves with God’s voice first, we are filling up on emptier calories. Why do we fill up on the substitutes when we have the real food available to us?

I’m a fan of substitutes; I’ve been gluten-free for a long time. But I will say this: there is nothing as satisfying as the crunchy crust and delectably soft insides of fresh-baked, gluten-full bread. The gluten-free bread satisfies the hunger, but it doesn’t satisfy the soul as well as that gluten-y bread. It’s the same way with God’s word. It is designed to nourish us completely. External teachings and voices are good supplementally, but never as the main course.

No matter how loud all the voices sound in your life, remember that they are just that–voices. You don’t have to listen to them. You can let them confuse you or fill you or make you lose your mind, OR you can tune your ears to hear His voice. You can discipline your mind and heart by consistently reading His word and talking to Him throughout your days. You will begin to recognize His voice among the others. You will become familiar with His loving tone and the nudges of His Spirit. The other voices won’t sound so important and urgent anymore.

I’m still learning to do this. In a world where we have every possible voice available to us, some days it can feel impossible. We’re no longer subject only to the voices in our immediate circles, but to the whole wide world of the internet. With so many potential voices to listen to, now more than ever we have to protect our minds and hearts.

Often God’s voice does come through other people and mediums–I’m absolutely not discounting supplementary material or friends and advisors that speak truth into your life. But when we are overwhelmed by too many voices, we know where to go to be sure we are hearing from Him first and foremost. Reading His word will clear away the cobwebs and shed light on which of the other voices are true and worth listening to.

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a new normal

alyssapebbles

As our country shifts into post-pandemic times, there is much relief and excitement, but also a bit of trepidation. Is it really going to stick? Can we really just go back to “normal?” What even is normal?

We’ve all gotten so used to bating our breath, waiting for the next curveball of a spike in cases or another virus mutation, that this return to normalcy seems almost too good to be true. We have become skeptical, cynical, preservation-focused. We have been hiding in our homes like hermits and are afraid to step into the light of day–the sun feels a little too promising, a little too brutal on our damaged skin and psyches. But nevertheless, the sun is here. The times truly are changing, and we get to change with them. We get to step into this next season scarred and worn out–but also filled with a new and deeper hope that has developed within us because of the trials we’ve collectively walked through. The pain and horror we have collectively known. No more will a barbecue with friends be taken for granted; every gathering will be a luxury and an opportunity to praise God. Every coffee shop date and concert and graduation party will be filled with worship, because we know it can be taken away in an instant. We know a world without the joy of in-person fellowship. We know the mental anguish of isolation. We know the fear of never being able to see our loved ones again.

Because of what we’ve known, we’ve grown. And now we can heal. Now we can move forward into a new normal, a new world that is defined by our gratitude for every moment.

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living in the shallows

alyssapebbles

Today’s world makes it easier than ever to watch everyone else’s lives and forget to live our own. I’ve caught myself in the bad habit and exhausting cycle of doing this as I’ve introduced social media back into my life after lent. I feel the tension of wanting to be involved with other people online and getting a little…too involved. I’m realizing I’m becoming passive and complacent. It’s so much easier to watch than engage. I’m struggling to find the balance, and I’m disappointed in myself for yet again becoming a slave to the scroll.

How do we engage with social media in a healthy way? In a way that doesn’t hinder but rather enhances our souls and our lives? These are the questions I’m asking myself lately, as I open my Instagram feed for the thirty-second time within the same hour, craving that little red notification bubble to pop up and convince me that someone cares about me. It’s about watching others, but it’s also about wanting others to watch me, and that’s when I know I’m in trouble. That’s when I know I’m living on the surface–living in the shallows.

It’s about watching others, but it’s also about wanting others to watch me, and that’s when I know I’m in trouble.

Giving it up entirely was easy. Learning how to use it in a balanced way is a lot trickier, and I fail most days. I suppose that’s how it is with most things in this conflicting world–it takes a lot more discipline to be in the world but not of it than it does to shut out the world, which can be the temptation. I used to be an advocate of that sort of asceticism, and certainly there are times when we need to completely fast of those things that are harming our souls, but I’ve learned over time that it’s not ultimately sustainable and it’s not ultimately what we’re called to.

Be in the world but not of it.

What if we started using social media as a way to spread light and love to others, instead of pointing to ourselves? What if we transformed it into an environment of giving to one another rather than taking from each other?

As I hold the tension of gaining “visibility” on social media as an aspiring author at the same time as recognizing it’s not really about me, I am seeking what it means to steward this gift of online connection well. Because it really is that–a gift. Social media allows us new windows into others’ lives and the most connection we’ve ever had as a society. But as with every gift there is a downside if we don’t use it properly to build up God’s kingdom. When we make it about us or let it hold too much of our attention, we are giving the enemy a foothold into all sorts of madness. You’ve seen how this plays out in your own life and the havoc it wrecks on your real life relationships and self-confidence.

I’m going to keep staying involved, but I’m setting boundaries, and you should too–for the protection of your own soul. We are not creatures made to be constantly interrupted by noise and notifications. We are made for deep, soulful living off the screen. So start there, and then come to the screen from a place of wholeness. From a place where you can give to others out of the abundance of your soul rather than seek approval out of your emptiness. And you may find that others in that space desperately need what you have to offer.

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qualified (part II)

alyssapebbles

It’s funny how God chooses things for our lives we never planned on. And all of a sudden we are asked to step into roles we never thought we would be stepping into, or at least not at this moment in time.

For me right now, that’s motherhood.

This was not our plan. My husband and I didn’t want kids until years down the road (my husband admittedly a few years more than me). We wanted to have our first blissful honeymoon years of marriage together, just the two of us. We wanted to be financially stable with a dog and a house and a yard before a little screaming baby came along. We had our goals and our visions and our ideas about what this whole thing was supposed to look like.

And then, four months into marriage, I was three days late. And I thought it was no big deal until my little app told me it was time to take a pregnancy test. So first thing on that cool November morning I slipped out of our apartment to run to Safeway and ask an uncomfortable teenager grab me the First Response test out of the locked cabinet.

You can probably imagine how the story goes from there. We were shocked. We didn’t know how to handle the news– we both felt a mixture of devastation and joy (the latter more so for me than him). We had just begun to reach a comfortable rhythm in our new marriage, and now this was going to throw everything off.

We were not ready for a kid. I was not ready for a kid.

We headed up to my husband’s parents house later that morning to do early Thanksgiving with them. We were freaking out. We decided not to tell them yet, since we still couldn’t even really process what was happening. The last time we had seen his parents we told them I was going to start grad school. They asked me questions about grad school and I played along, even though both my husband and I knew this was not an option anymore. Not now.

The weekend was a blur. In fact, the past six months have been a blur. There have been so many painful and joyful moments in the process of growing a baby, but throughout this pregnancy, one lingering question permeates my thoughts: will I be a good mother?

Who am I to raise a child? Who I am to take on this enormous responsibility of raising a human being?

We don’t have the dog yet, so I don’t even know my skills in dog-momming. We skipped straight to what feels like the highest stakes, and while I am assured that God is going to take care of us and we’ll be okay, the doubts can still creep in. And I start to wonder if I’m qualified for this huge responsibility (and blessing) He’s giving me.

What if my health issues get in the way of my mothering? What if I get postpartum depression and can’t take care of him? What if he has emotional or cognitive problems? What if… what if… what if?!

But WHAT IF God is good? What if He is trustworthy and He knows what He is doing? What if what I see as an accident was His perfect plan for my life all along? What if the plan we had concocted for us would not have been nearly as rewarding and fulfilling as His plan for us?

God didn’t ask our permission to give us this child. But He has sustained this baby boy for the past six months in a way that I can only attribute to Him. Despite all the odds against him with my health issues, he has been growing steadily and fearlessly. He truly is a little miracle. If God has taken care of my baby this well so far, I know I have nothing to worry about on the other side of the womb.

No amount of books, parenting classes, or high-end baby products will make me a good mother. I will be a good mother because God has chosen me to be a mother. He qualifies me, and if I cling to Him, He will sustain me throughout motherhood. I know I will have a million and one moments where I have absolutely no idea what to do, but in those moments I know I can rely on Him for help and trust that it’s okay to not know.

Whatever you feel unqualified in– a job, a sport, a relationship– know that if you are in that role, then you are qualified. It is not a mistake. You were given a responsibility and you can either always feel like you’re not good enough and undeserving of it, or you can trust that you are where you are supposed to be and live fully into it. You will not be perfect and you will make many mistakes, but that doesn’t disqualify you.

There will be many times in life we have to step into shoes we don’t feel big enough to fill. And those are the best moments of faith–do we trust God enough to help us fill them? These are the opportunities to learn what we are truly capable of and who we might become. But if we back away out of fear we will never see all that potential come to fruition.

I’m not ready to be a mother, but this baby needs me to be. And there are people in your life who need you to step up in your role, whether or not you feel ready. You will be amazed what God will do when you just say yes.

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being the branch

alyssapebbles

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

John 15:4-5

I recently had a chat with my good friend who also happens to be an artist, and I asked her how she sits down and draws all. day. long. She has been faithfully working on her portfolio, drawing and re-drawing the same portraits over and over again. She turns in her work to her mentor, who tells her to keep re-doing it until it is just right. And I am amazed at how she has the stamina to keep going, to keep doing the tedious, unseen work each and every day when there is no immediate reward in sight.

She tells me she does it with God. She invites Him in, and He does it with her, through her. She prays her way through it. When she gets discouraged or stuck she allows Him to help her.

Apart from me you can do nothing.

I can’t stop thinking about that. Here I am, trying to pursue a calling He has put on my heart and gifted me accordingly to do, and I am trying to do it all in my own strength. No wonder I get overwhelmed. No wonder I run out of ideas. No wonder I feel like I have nothing to contribute… because I don’t, at least not in myself. Without Him I have nothing- I come up empty.

The bells go off in my head when my friend tells me where her inspiration comes from. Of course! Of course it has to start with Him! How could I forget that?

I think of my best work (as a writer, a singer, a friend…) and it always comes from a place of deep abiding with the Lord. My best words flow from communion with Him. My most inspired moments are the fruit of constant communication with my Father. He is the life source, the creative source. If He created me, how could I create anything without Him? If I’m not abiding in Him, how can I offer anything to others?

If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.

John 15:6

I don’t want to be a dead, burnt branch. I don’t want to try to produce anything on my own. I can’t produce anything on my own, or at least anything of worth. I want everything that comes out of me to be a result of my life with God. It is my responsibility:

Of this gospel I was made a minister according to the gift of God’s grace, which was given me by the working of his power. To me, though I am the very least of all the saints, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God, who created all things, so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.

Ephesians 3:7-10

If my motive is anything less than to spread His love and hope than I am missing the calling. If it is about me or my own glory, I am missing it. God takes all the credit and all the blame for the fruit He produces through me- I am only his instrument, his vessel.

As I peek into the world of writing and publishing, I can see how easy it is to get distracted and forget why you are doing what you are doing. I can see how you might get lost in platform building and social media and comparison and feel drowned out in a sea of people who are all trying to do the same thing and get noticed.

I can see how easy it is to lose focus. To forget that the words on the page are not the source, but rather the result of a life lived seeking the kingdom first. That the words shared are words earned by faithful living, not haphazardly and desperately written words to impress.

I don’t know where God is leading me with this. But I know that He is good and He is for me, and He wants to use me in any way that I am willing. And I know that He has gifted me with words, not to build myself up, but for the purpose of building up others and His kingdom. So as I continue down this path, I pray that He would continually remind me I am only the branch, and not the vine. And thank goodness for that!

I pray this knowledge would keep my heart humble and ready for the fruit He wants to produce through me, which is so much plumper and sweeter than I could ever imagine.

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momentum: moving forward imperfectly

alyssapebbles

These past few weeks as I’ve transitioned out of full time work into unemployment and the days feel a lot longer I find myself feeling… stuck.

There’s something to be said about motion. They say a body in motion stays in motion. And how true I’m beginning to find this. When I was working at the health clinic, I had a regular rhythm to my days- a routine that kept me in motion and kept me productive. And while I longed for more freedom and time to shape my days how I wanted to, I’m now seeing the benefit of the structure I had.

Turns out, I’m terrible at creating that structure for myself. Turns out having a 9-5 schedule, although soul-killing at times, might have had more value than I realized.

Now that I’m fully in charge of my own schedule, it’s hard not to get a bit overwhelmed and paralyzed by all the possibilities of how I can use my time. Should I wake up early and read and pray? Should I sleep in? Should I spend an hour reading or three hours? An abundance of time can lead to an abundance of doubts.

How do I honor God with all of this?

I find myself constantly questioning how I’m spending the hours, and then I end up not doing much at all because I’m too afraid of doing the wrong thing.

I say I want to be a writer. And the only way to become a writer is to sit down and write. But now that I have all the time to do that, I’m noticing that the kitchen is dirty. And the laundry needs to be done. And there are a billion other things that need my attention that I deem “more important.” And it’s easy to push my dream to the side, telling myself that it’s a silly dream anyway. Who do I think I am? The bills need to be paid. I need a real job, with real income…

And those are the whispers from the enemy that haunt me throughout my days. So before I’ve even begun to sit down and get words on a page, I feel defeated. Before I’ve even begun to look through freelance jobs or read other people’s work that should inspire me, I feel less than. I feel unworthy and not good enough. And I wonder what I’m doing, and how I became such a failure.

And yet.

What if this the enemy’s tactic? What if this is how he stops us from doing meaningful things- by defeating us before we even get started? By planting seeds of doubt, fear, and comparison in our mind so we are already sabotaged? Maybe these dreams and visions we have inside of us truly are from God and truly would make a difference in others’ lives, and the enemy knows this so he fights hard against our momentum? Tries to destroy us with his lies so we can’t make the progress we are destined to make?

When I stop acquiesing to these accusations in my mind and start listening to what God is saying, something shifts. I remember who I am and that I am already loved and enough. I feel like I can take the next step- like maybe that’s all I really need to do. Maybe I don’t need to do everything all at once and become an overnight success, like our culture seems encourage and applaud. Maybe I can just take that one next step towards my goals and dreams:

Write the blog post

Reach out to the friend

Do the workout

Maybe our lives are just a series of steps, taken one at a time, until we get to where we are supposed to be. Maybe all those people we admire that seem to have it all together and started a foundation and five successful businesses and have a thriving family got where they are by taking a series of small steps over time. It’s easy to feel like I’m the only one floundering when I’m looking at all the people who have “made it,” but when I remind myself that they started small too- that we all have to start small- I feel empowered. I feel like I can make it too.

But it takes discipline. And it takes courage. And it takes letting go of my own idea of what progress is- not a series of perfect steps up a straight staircase, but rather a long and winding staircase with many detours and obstacles along the way. Some days may not look like any steps are taken at all, or it may look like we are falling backwards down the staircase. But I think if I can trust that God is guiding me up this staircase and has carefully crafted its every twist and turn, I’ll be a lot more likely to continue going than if it all feels meaningless. Why climb the stairs if they’re not going anywhere?

If I can remember that each step holds incredible meaning and purpose of its own, I think I will not be so concerned about getting to the top. About the finished product. Because maybe that’s not what it’s about. It’s about who I’m becoming in the process.

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don’t buy into the lie

alyssapebbles

Yesterday my husband Mitch and I were walking around the reservoir by my parents’ house, enjoying the lovely surroundings and adorable dogs that are a staple of Lafayette. Nearly the whole three miles, I had my eyes on the woman about fifty paces ahead of us in her cute workout outfit, carrying a baby I couldn’t see in one of those body-wrap baby carriers. I watched and admired her, telling myself that that’s who I was going to be next year with my new baby boy: the cute, fit mom.

I was all caught up in my reverie until we came up behind a young family with two little girls. One of the girls was screaming her head off and being dragged begrudgingly by her worn-out father as she insisted they turn around (even though the end of the loop trail was so close, as her parents kept trying to calmly tell her). She wouldn’t stop screaming with a slightly demonic undertone, and I watched as every passerby gave the poor family the side-eye. I could feel the judgment oozing out of each one of them and was even tempted myself to blame those exhausted parents for their child’s misbehavior. 

We walked behind them for an agonizing few minutes, both sympathizing with the parents but also perturbed at the thought of our own child behaving this way. What if we can’t control our kid? What if he turns out to be a little nightmare? How do we ensure he is the perfect child? These were the anxious thoughts I’m sure were swimming around in both of our minds at that moment, as we exchanged slightly panicked looks. 

We finally passed the family and nearly had to cover our ears from the anguished cries of the little girl- and ended up catching up with the fit mom. 

“That’s a little scary, isn’t it?” she started as we fell into a synchronized pace. 

“Only slightly,” I sarcastically responded, surveying her beautiful, golden-curled, blue-eyed baby boy bouncing happily in his carrier. I compared and contrasted this scene to the one we just witnessed and wondered if God was trying to teach me something. 

We proceeded to have a conversation about babies and kids, and I told her we were expecting our first in July. She congratulated us and enthusiastically began to talk about a special “smart” bassinet that she was sure was the reason her baby has been able to sleep through the night. I was immediately entranced- was this the secret key to her perfect baby? I felt privy to an insider cool-mom club. All of a sudden I needed this bassinet. The bassinet was the key to keeping our baby from becoming like the screaming child we just passed. Maybe if I bought this bassinet, our baby would even have golden curls and bright blue eyes.

We parted ways and I immediately whipped out my phone to research the “Snoo.” I didn’t even have to read the reviews to be sold on it. It automatically rocks your baby when he gets fussy and even has a swaddling feature to keep him in place so he doesn’t roll over in the night. The cool mom obviously knew what she was talking about, and had a perfect baby boy to show for it. 

I showed it to Mitch and he said no. It’s $1400 and only meant for the first six months of life. But my heart felt so attached. And I started to think about why. 

Why do I think if I buy all the right things for my baby, I will be protected from normal parenting struggles? Why does the perfect registry seem like the key to the perfect baby? 

I have been inundated with so many new gadgets marketed towards the “modern mom” and baby. My Pinterest and Instagram feeds are saturated with pregnancy and baby products, and it’s all just a little overwhelming. There are too many options, and I’m terrified if I put the wrong items on my registry I’m going to completely screw up our kid. 

So I have to take a breath and a step back. And I have to remember that nothing I buy for my little one is going to make or break him. I have to remember that God cares more about preparing my heart than my house for this upcoming season of parenthood. 

And I think that this principle can be applied to any season you may be preparing for or currently in. We are bombarded by “stuff” that makes big claims to fix our lives. Or to turn us into the person we want to become. With all forms of media constantly at our fingertips comes all forms of advertising. And they’ve gotten more and more sneaky at knowing exactly what we want and marketing to that. 

You’ve seen the ads- the skin products that show up in your feed after complaining about your acne to a friend, the advertisement for online courses after researching going back to school… the internet is getting super creepy. 

So we have to be more disciplined than ever at deciding what we allow to take root in our minds. The constant barrage of false promises to fix our lives is not going to end anytime soon- in fact it will most likely get worse as media becomes more and more prevalent. We can believe every lie it tells us, or we can remember that we already have everything we need to be who we were made to be. 

Instead of focusing on what I need for my new baby right now (although I definitely do need some things!) I want to focus on what I need in my heart. I want to focus on what God is changing and molding in me to become the mother he wants me to be. More patience, more joy, more endurance… more love. Babies need plenty of things, but what they need the most from their mamas is the deep and abiding love of Christ. 

So, in these next few months, as I buy the things and prepare the room, I will also be preparing my heart. And I will invite God into the rooms of my heart that need to be swept clean and renovated before a baby moves in. And I pray that I won’t get so caught up in all the shiny things that I forget to sit with Him and let Him do the transforming work inside of me.

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creating the habit of creating

alyssapebbles

As I’ve been going through one of my favorite authors Hannah Brencher’s writing intensive that she puts out every winter, I’ve been challenged, encouraged, and inspired.

I’m actually believing I might have what it takes to make it.

It’s not complicated. It’s not an impossible goal to become a writer. It doesn’t take fancy tools or great moments of revelation and “magic,” as Hannah puts it. It just requires a certain amount of discipline and the habit of sitting my butt down in a chair (or the couch!) for a few hours a day and just. doing. it. Doing the work. Putting in the time. Getting words on the document.

I realize how silly I’ve been for putting this off for so long. Of course life was busy and there’s been demands on my time, but if I’m really honest with myself, I’ve always had the time. I’ve just lacked the discipline. And the reality is, it doesn’t even take very much.

Hearing Hannah’s process and reading about the great writers of history’s habits, I am realizing it is actually really simple. It does not even take copious amounts of talent. It just takes time and effort, as with everything good and worthwhile. We always want the quick fix, the quick success, the thing that will make us great instantaneously. But that doesn’t exist, and we will waste so much mental energy trying to find it or believing that it does. We always want to find the easiest, least-resistant path to what we desire, but there is no true reward in that.

Hannah tells a story of when she finally finished her first book, and the quiet reassurance that surprised her in the place of what she thought would be a momentous and loud victory. It was the reassurance that all that time and effort she had poured into her work was worth it. It was the “slow magic” of building something lasting and sustainable. That struck me- in this time of instant gratification and Instagram likes and constant comparison, she could feel a deeper satisfaction that had nothing to do with anyone’s approval but God’s and her own. That’s the kind of success I want to seek, and it only comes with the slow and steady habit-building process over time.

As I continue in this journey, I hope to get more words on the page, and to be consistent about it. I hope to be someone who writes often, whether or not I want to. I want to be someone who doesn’t criticize and over-analyze everything I write to the point of paralyzation. I believe my words matter and I have something unique to offer the world through my writing.