Month: July 2026

What do you mean I carry a baby IN MY VERY OWN BODY for 40 weeks, monitoring every move it makes and how it’s body is developing—along with watching my body change in ways I never imagined —and then I actually give birth to a little (or not-so-little) human being? A living, breathing, moving, crying, pooping, peeing, eating, smiling human being. And then, without even questioning it, I willingly and joyfully give up other pursuits to care for this baby day by day and night by night. I love them. I live for their smiles and laughter. I teach them how to walk, how to read, think, play, make friends. I introduce them to Jesus and how much He loves them. I send them to camps and piano lessons, cheer for their made-up dances, encourage their interests, and listen to their hurts.

Then, they move away—hours and states away for internships turn residencies and maybe a job? And maybe I get to see them every few months.

I miss them.

I always knew they were meant to leave. I just never knew how much of my heart would go with them.

{Post inspired by this photo I keep tucked in my Bible}

{but let me add these so no one feels left out}

Isn’t marriage a funny thing? I mean, besides being a beautiful, God-ordained gift to enjoy, it is definitely a funny relationship at times.

I’ve often wondered about the dynamics between husbands and wives we know. Some couples are so calm and quiet that I wonder if they’re bored at home. And that same couple may think Josh and I need to calm down and assume Josh does everything with intensity and passion, when in reality…well, yes, he does actually.

Anyway, moving on.

Josh and I have had many misunderstandings over the 25 plus years of marriage we have enjoyed. Our most recent one surfaced over the past couple of weeks as Josh decided to join me in sitting outside with coffee in the first thirty minutes or so of the day.

Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with him. But this snippet of time was intended to be for solitude. No agenda. No plan. Just being. Listening to creation waking up. Praying. Or not. Thinking. Or not. But always quiet. Josh, however, likes to talk in the morning more than the evening. So he’s been asking an innocent question, albeit ill-timed—“So what’s your day like?”

Well, this isn’t a calendar check in.

Or he remembers something from work and wants to share it.

Well, this isn’t story time.

And I am torn because I want time with him. I want to hear his stories and share my calendar with him. Just not during this thirty minute or so block.

He has sometimes already ran a mile. And he almost always has plunged into a 42 degree tub of water when I am shuffling my bed head out to the backyard, coffee in hand.

So he is raring to go.

And I am not.

He also doesn’t sit still; he is always moving.

And I am not.

This morning I told him that in the fall I may have to uninvite him to my solitude time—not because I don’t love spending time with him, but because he has misunderstood the assignment.

He laughed about it and saw my points.

But I also must admit that I do the same thing with him at night. It started as newlyweds. See, girls usually equate getting in bed with chatting. Think sleepovers. The bed was not a place to immediately fall asleep—that’s when you were just getting started. Josh, however, definitely equates bed with immediate sleep. And though it hurt my feelings as a new wife, I have adjusted. I still try from time to time to have a chat session with Josh at bedtime, but it still never goes well. And Josh reminds me I have misunderstood the assignment.

Over the years we’ve learned that we don’t have to enjoy the same things in the same ways. Sometimes love looks like encouraging him to go on the run and take a dip in that cold plunge or sign up for the evening CrossFit class or simply go to bed and go to sleep without bringing up something to discuss—even though none of those things sound appealing to me. Sometimes love looks like him letting me sit quietly in the backyard, listening to birds wake up. Or listening while I explain another house project or hearing a song I can’t wait for him to hear—even though those aren’t his favorite things. It’s give and take.

But tomorrow morning, give me my solitude.

The heart wants what it’s fed.

I heard this in a devotion recently and it has stayed with me.

What table are you pulling up to every day? What are you feeding your heart? Your mind? Your affections?

I am embarrassed to admit this, but I was scooting up to Instagram a bit too often and staying too long. I was feeding my heart a steady of dose of noise, restlessness, distraction—I guess that’s why they call it your “instagram feed.” Before long, your heart begins wanting what it’s constantly being fed.

“Ooooh, I want that shirt.”

“Oh wow that is a nice kitchen. My kitchen is old and dated. I need a new kitchen. Maybe I just need a new home.”

A steady instagram feed of “if you workout, you should look like this.”

Or “if you don’t want to workout, just take this shot and you’ll be skinny.”

Ends up if you’re fed new homes, you’ll want a new home. If you’re fed new clothes, you’ll want new clothes. If you’re fed endless fitness transformations, you’ll want your own fitness transformation.

After quite a while of putting off God’s gracious invitation to draw near to Him and shut out this obvious distraction in my life, I finally waved my white flag of surrender…or maybe I saw my screen time notification and wanted to hide in shame.

Either way, I made a decision to delete instagram. It wasn’t serving me well. I don’t run a ministry that needs to get its message out there. I don’t run a business that requires I attain clients through instagram. I know there are amazing resources and godly people on instagram. This is not a post to say “instagram bad.” It’s a post to say I wanted more quiet. I wanted less time on my phone. I wanted time to reflect, to have large chunks of solitude, to create instead of consume. I wanted to train my appetite for something deeper and more satisfying.

So I left my seat at that table and have pulled up to a new one. It’s been refreshing. Well, now it’s refreshing. Those first four days or so were actually quite rough. I was bombarded with negative thoughts. Anxious thoughts. Self-deprecating thoughts. It was wild. I wasn’t sure what was happening or how long this would last. I have since learned this is common.

For so long I had shut off my inner thoughts and tuned in to other people’s thoughts, other people’s lives, other people telling me what I needed to buy, to think, to do. But now, I had more free-thinking time. What was I going to do with it? First, I had to fight the negativity and pray for God’s help. I prayed Psalm61:2, “Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.” I was my own worst enemy and needed God to lift me up and draw me close. And He did. After removing the constant noise of the app, I had time to bring these thoughts to the Lord instead of burying them beneath another scroll.

After the rough days, I started noticing life. I am taking in nature, listening to morning bird songs as I sip my coffee, taking in my husband’s face, taking in messes that need my attention in my house. I have tackled revamping my closet and getting rid of so many clothes and shoes. I organized my pantry (you really should check those expiration dates on your canned goods). I have listened to sermons and listened to silence. I have listened to music and taken naps. The biggest change I have noticed after almost 15 days away from instagram is clarity. As opposed to the muddled mess that my mind was in when I spent too much time on that app.

My heart will always hunger and thirst. Every day I choose which table I’ll sit at. Who will get my attention? What will I choose to notice?

Psalm 81:10 “I, the Lord, am your God, Who brought you up from the land of Egypt; open your mouth wide and I will fill it.”

God has given me a beautiful life. I don’t want to miss it. I don’t want to miss Him.

It’s July 1. I am hoping July will be a quiet month for me. We have had a full last few months, and I am feeling drawn to quiet and calm. To listening more than talking. To praying more than worrying. To no instagram and way less phone in my hand.

One question I have been asking the last few days is, “What am I carrying that God is asking me to lay down?” I have always felt very responsible for my kids. This is fine and dandy at first thought, but over time and in the flesh I can take that responsibility a tad too far. It turns into carrying their fears, their future, their health, their choices, their responsibilities, their growth, their struggles almost as my own.

And well, that’s not good. And I don’t want to carry all of that anymore.

I am learning how to interact with each of my kids as young adults who don’t always want my input or advice or opinion. And when you’ve offered that for many, many years, well…it doesn’t just turn off automatically.

But as I was walking and praying about this area of my life God was asking me to stop carrying, I heard so clearly—

God isn’t asking me to stop caring. He is asking me to stop carrying it as if it was all up to me.

Psalm 68:19 says, “Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.”

I can stop carrying it because God is carrying it all. He is even carrying me. I can continue to care and pray and love without the burden of all of it.

Have you forgotten that old children’s song, “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands”? Well, it is still true and maybe you need to sing it loud and proud right where you are.

None of this is riding on me! Praise the Lord for that truth.