I've avoided routine so here I am writing about it

"You should get a hobby" - Lee 

The funny thing is, this is not the first time someone has told me this. About two years ago, a friend and I discussed the necessity of having a hobby. I was so gungho on the fact that I was going to be the next succulent cultivator extraordinaire. I would have a t-shirt made that would save succulent mama and the garden would be flourishing within a few months or so. My first row of succulent sucklings died within the week and here I am two years later buying succulents from my local Walmart. 

Two years later and unable to sit still in my own living room when my brain is craving an activity. But really, my brain is craving routine. An my lack of routine has found me somewhere in the middle of anxious hopeful hobbyist and professional snooze button hitter. 

In a recent podcast, an author was describing the differences between anxiety and depression. I know the two all too well, but I've never paused for a moment to distinguish the difference. 

Sarah Wilson, author of First, We make the Beast Beautiful, describes anxiety as an anticipation of what's to come. Depression is a reflection of the past and basically ruminating on a thought or feeling for far too long. She began to speak on how routine minimizes decision making which in turn minimizes anxiety, and in my opinion, eliminates the possibility of depression. 

My lack of routine in life has, without a doubt, brought me to a place of anxiousness. When I begin to feel anxious, my first weapon (although it should be prayer) is to reflect back on what was. Leading to a vicious cycle of apathy and tension. 

Preaching to myself on this one, I'm ready for routine and to be straightforward I have some goals that I need to figure the heck out. 

#1. GET YOUR BOOTY OUT OF BED – Lee will appreciate me not setting 5 alarms only to avoid all 5. 

#2 EAT GOOD STUFF – Edible flowers and sprouts have found their way into our fridge. Lots of water, that too. 

#3 TAKE YOUR MEDS – Sorry to get real, but one of the biggest culprits of my foot tapping and numbness when I wake up is skipping on my medically prescribed anti-depressant. You skip one day, then two, or three or maybe you're like me and you go through a bottle and get too lazy to go to the pharmacy. Each day, I take an oval cream pill that helps me stand a little taller and sleep a little better. 

#4 WALK, DAILY. Walking has been proven to pump more oxygen to your brain and in turn ya know, clearer thoughts...more energy. 

#5 AVOID THE SCROLL AT 6:30AM – You know what I mean, instagrammers. 

So there it is, a summary of my path to routine recovery. 

And by the way, I chose a hobby, it's blogging. 

If you had grown old

If you had grown old you would have been the first to tell me to stop dying my hair with that stupid box color and sit down in your chair. You would have fussed every time I didn't like it, but you would have gladly changed it until I was happy. We'd probably agree to disagree about the fact that I now have bangs.

You would laugh at the fact that I grew up to enjoy Kombucha. I laugh at this.

Goodness – you would love the restaurants that we have now. I never asked, but I bet you would've loved to spend too much money on charcuterie boards like me just because it makes you feel fancy.

I bet you would say yes every time I called you to ask you to go to Final Cut with me and I have no doubt in mind that you would try and stuff yourself into the ridiculous glittery dress that was hiding at the bottom of the box or make me do it so that you could take a picture. You would have most definitely posted in on Facebook afterwards. I wish was cool then, then I could look back now on your memories.

I joke a lot about wanting a chihuahua . . . but you would've convinced me to really get one.

I kill plants on the regular, but I bet you would've taught me the best way to keep them alive or which ones to buy so that I could keep on forgetting to water them and they'd be fine anyway.

I would have got you back for that one time you unscrewed the lid on the red pepper seed and handed it to me to use. Yo Pizza is gone by the way and the deli isn't the same – but we won't get into that.

You would really like Lee. You would probably pick on him just the same as me, but in the end, I know you would secretly love him.

You would have made sure that I wore my hair up on my wedding day and that the Twist was played so that Da + Pa would steal the dance floor.

I'm not pregnant yet, but if I was, you would tell me there was a mini me hanging out in there and that she would be spoiled rotten too. When a craving struck, you'd give me a can of tuna in easy mac. You'd be there for it all but you would've told me that the baby name I chose was strange. You would have gladly hung a picture of her on the mirror at work so the old ladies could see.

I can't recall how you took your coffee (if at all), but we would've discovered that too.

It's been 11 years, 11 whole years of you getting to hang out with Jesus. Selfishly, I wish you were here to have done all of these things with me, but selflessly I know that you're home.

A Note on Living Slow

Words of the year.

I remember not too long ago when I was desperate for a word. Something to bring to light clarity on my year. If you remember from a post way back, the Lord said 2016 would be victorious.

Guys, it actually was.

WoW grew into something I could never even imagine or lay claim too.

Mary Hannah Harte Photography 

I saw the depth of depression and the freedom in living unashamed by my testimony.

My heart (might I add extremely selfish heart) realized that marriage means SO much more than just listen to me, do this, stop that.

God revealed community and the richness of being vulnerable with people who love you and support you.

Lumarie Photo & Design

We purchased our first home in July, old school wood paneling and all. Painted the kitchen shades of white and dressed the home in dirty paw prints with our first pup. 

And somewhere in the midst of it, I never took a moment to breathe. Or blog. Or pray. Or read. Or look at my husband like he was my actual best friend.

Living the fast life is glamorous, according to instagram. Living the fast life brought along a lot of reward from days of hard work and tears, but it also brought about never ending rings underneath my eyes that look like last week's eyeliner. It stole away mornings that were once held so dear and it most definitely yanked back time spent digging deep and learning. It was when I sat down with my very own copy of The Magnolia Story that I realized I forgot what pages of a book smelled like or how my fingers felt gliding across a keyboard for reasons other than being on the clock.

So, I think it's time to publish a note about living slow.

It's time to breathe a little more purposefully and spend nights beating my husband in Jenga - sorry babe, but it's true. Or actually calling my best friend to say hey, what's going on in your life and when can I see you next?

There truly is a time for everything, but it doesn't mean we have to fit our everything into one single moment, or year for that matter.

This is my (your) note on living slow.

"Help me to be someone who sprints less and savors more. Give me breath that is slow 

and spacious and sweet."

- Hilary Rushford, Thirty One Days of Prayer for the Dreamer + Doer

I get it.

Photo Cred: Jazmin Quaynor

That it's hard to say no to the snooze alarm.

    That it's absolutely draining to balance it all.

That paranoia can creep in about what if, why not, what will?

     Wondering how much longer, how much harder will this be?

The laundry in the corner, the leak in the kitchen, losing your keys will never fix itself.

     The your feelings feel like the bottom of the barrel, running on empty, desperate for water.

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I get it. I do. So tonight all you need to know is God's promises are true and real.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

    his mercies never come to an end;

23 

they are new every morning;

    great is your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul....therefore I will hope in him.” 

The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.

Lamentations 3:22-25

things that never change

I remember the first time I felt alone in this familiar city. We were freshly married and everything was different. The bed I laid down in every night. The road I travelled. The mail that somehow arrived every month in the mailbox demanding more. Everything had changed - or so it seemed. Over a year later, the Lord is constantly reminding me that when comfortable places change, sometimes the details that matter the most never do.

Like light through the bedroom window and endless snuggles 

Or drives in the country where I skip the song every 5 seconds yet you still gaze my way 

or adventures with the ones who know you for who you are and take moments to celebrate that 

and the flowers of the field that never cease to amaze 

or strolls in green grass and skies that are blue 

None of us can escape the weight of change - but we can escape the burden of it. Lay it at His feet and ask him to remind you about the moments that are still here, that can still be felt and known. Let the biggest artist of all mold you and change you and break down the walls. Remember that you're not meant to be comfortable but you are called to be confident. Rejoice in the moments that never change even amidst everything else morphing into something new.  

Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands.  Isaiah 43:19 (MSG)