Category Archives: Inspirations

We’re making cookies together!

It’s Thanksgiving week and as you read this, the big Thanksgiving dinner is upon us! I’m getting my last minute preparations done, because before you know it,  I’ll be in the office with the crazy that comes after a holiday break, looking forward to having some Thanksgiving leftovers for dinner! But as I write this, I’m making Thanksgiving dinner at my house for twelve. Since I’m in the hospital the day before the holiday, I’m getting as much of the prep done as I can before Thursday morning. I want to watch the parade!

Because my youngest has allergies and sensitivites, she can’t have most of the traditional cakes and pies for dessert after the feast. So I thought I’d do an almond flour based recipe for her dessert so she has a treat like everyone else. I printed up a bunch of recipes and decided on chocolate chip almond flour cookies. I was going to whip them up, stick them in the freezer, and pull them out with the rest of the food on Thursday.

My almond flour cookie options…

Then I changed my mind. About two years ago, while the older kids were out doing a big kid activity, I took the baby to Panera for a Mommy-Anora date. She keeps asking when we’re going to do that again. A year ago, the boys were out of town for the weekend, so we had a girls chili dinner in front of the fireplace. She keeps asking me when we’re going to eat chili on the blanket again. So when I decided to make the almond flour cookies, I thought we’d make them together.

Except I didn’t really want to.

No, really. It’s a little crazy around here with me doing the bulk of the Thanksgiving cooking, getting the house cleaned up, and managing the kids and their issues. For example, yesterday I spent hours helping my son work through the consequences of a doozy of a lie he told his dad. Because my husband wanted to avoid the temptation to knock him into next week, he nicely asked me to step in, and like a good mom I did so. Then when they were supposed to be going to bed (and I was going to eat), I sat with my oldest who had been nursing hurt feelings all day over some issue she had with her sister earlier in the day. But we worked through it, tears and all, and they made up and went to bed friends again. This morning they all came downstairs bickering, and because I had to referee, I didn’t get to read my bible or get in my yoga before I had to leave for the morning. So when it came to the idea of walking a five year old through a cookie recipe, I just didn’t want to.

Reading through the recipe together…

But I did it anyway. The reason why Anora keeps asking to do some of the things we’ve done before is because they were special to her. They’re moments in her heart and mind that mean something to her, even if they didn’t seem like much to me at the time. I realized something: We never really know the impact of our moments in other’s lives. It might seem like something small to you, but it may be a very special memory to someone else. I remember making rum balls around Christmas with my mom every year for gifts. I griped and complained about the work, but I love thinking about all the times I was in the kitchen with my mom, cooking and listening to Home Alone playing in the background.

I don’t know whether she’ll remember this time making cookies with her mom, but at least I do know that every time I spend time with one of these kids, we’re building our lifetime of memories together. They will have what I have – a beautiful collection of memories of time with their mom. We won’t live together forever, so this time we have now is precious. So instead of battling against the situation I’m in (mom with young kids, working mom, busy life), I’m going to do my best to enjoy the times I have. Everything isn’t fun – some things are routine and boring. But each day is a gift. We don’t get to go back and do them over again. So I’m grateful for now!

What are you grateful for today? Please share in the comments below!

Happy Thanksgiving!

My mom is an artist.

Before she was a wife, a mom, a social worker, or an executive, even before she was a college student, my mom was an artist. Right now in my parent’s home hangs a painting of a mother and infant which you’d swear was professionally done. I’ve always been in awe of the skill and talent in my mom’s hands. Even as the years have gone by and she’s stopped painting and drawing, the way she cooks, lays out a table for a gathering, even the little sketches she adds to greeting cards reveal the artist inside.

Mother and Child by Lesley Christian

Right now I’m away on a solo retreat, trying to get quiet and listen. I didn’t bring much with me other than a journal, my yoga mat, and a chair because I didn’t want to be distracted by things to do, even books I want to read. But I did bring a coloring book – I thought it might help me tune out the chatter in my mind. As I sat on the beach with the book in front of me, trying to select a mandala to color, I realized something: I am not an artist.

No, really. Looking at that blank white page, trying to decide which color to start with before I have an idea of what I want it to look like causes me to freeze. Now, I understand that this is just a simple coloring exercise and I’m not creating a masterpiece, but my perfectionistic tendencies and my desire to know the end result in advance prevent me from enjoying the process of creation as it unfolds. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life…

The dreaded white space…

I got started anyway. And coloring made me think of my mom, even though I don’t think I ever saw her color in a book. I know deep down, whether she ever draws or paints anything again, that she is an artist. That’s just who she is, the person she is inside. Each of us wear multiple labels: mom, wife, boss, coworker, friend, sister. Many times, those labels belong to lots of other people. But none of those people, even though they wear your same label, are you. A friend told me this week that I am a teacher and businesswoman – two titles I hadn’t identified in myself. But it’s not the first time someone has given me a label that felt unfamiliar and true at the same time. Sometimes, labels are reflected to us by others who see us. Sometimes we forget the labels we’ve always worn. I sat coloring and wondering – what labels do I wear? And what difference does it make?

Getting started…

It makes a big difference. The reason I’m here by myself for these few days is to keep moving toward what I’m here to do. There are lots of doctors, plenty of holistic healers, many moms, and other labels I wear. But none of them are me. I read this beautiful quote recently and it made me cry.

It’s what I hope my kids will figure out one day, what dream God has for their lives. It’s how I want to show up in the world, that I am here as the one and only unique me who has something special to offer. Here’s the hold up: God has the whole picture, and I don’t see it all. I get a glimpse of it here and there, and when I can’t see how it’s all coming together, I want to put away my markers and stop coloring. I freeze at the sight of the blank white page.

But there’s good news: it comes together if you keep showing up. When I start filling in the little spaces with color, it becomes clearer what comes next. The next color choice becomes more obvious. The further I go, the more full the picture gets, and the easier it is to keep going.

Coming together…

I’m pretty sure life is the same way. It’s not always clear to me why each facet of my life has been organized the way it has, but none of it is an accident. I’m who I am because I have something to give. And so do you. But each of us gets to do the work to find out what it is, and it becomes clearer and fuller with each step we take forward. Do you know why you’re here? Do you know what you’re here to give the world? If you don’t, it’s ok. But you’re going to have to go looking if you’re going to find out. And don’t be intimidated if you find a blank white page. Just start by asking how to fill it in, and step by step you will find your way.

Now, I am not saying that you have to do something famous or even noticed with your life to be worthy. You don’t have to write a best selling book, speak your message to millions, or serve in public office (you might, but that’s not for me to say!). Your open home might be what helps a lonely friend get thorough the holidays without despair. Your way of caring for those you work with might be what shows other leaders how to build a strong and happy workforce. Your way of engaging with your kids even when you’re exhausted may be what teaches them become giving adults. Your love of cooking and willingness to share it may inspire others to serve. And just as much as your mothering, your painting may inspire your daughter to envision a truer concept of womanhood.

One thing I’m learning: now is the time. It doesn’t really matter your age when you start, because you don’t get to know how much time you have. You may have 20 or 50 or 5 more years. I’m at the age where people I know are dying, people I went to college with, people who worked with me. Most of them would have thought they had many more years to live. So the invincible mindset that says, “I have all the time in the world” is fading away. We just don’t know. So if we have this day, we get to decide how we want to show up in the world. Today.

So who are you? You’re here for a reason. I’m here for a reason. Let’s go find it!

Do you know why you’re here? What are you doing to figure it out? Please comment below and let’s help each other move toward finding our way!

I was sitting here, staring at the computer screen and wondering if I had anything to write about this week. I’ve been up between 430 and 5 every day, driving in horrendous traffic for meetings and hospital work. I got some criticism at work this week which was unpleasant, not to mention anxiety provoking. My kids have been waking up in the mornings without me, and I’ve had to say, “Goodnight, I love you. See you tomorrow night” when I put them to bed. So while I sat here trying to decide if I should post or prop myself in front of some stand-up comedy on Netflix, I realized my babies were sitting in the next room reading quietly.

I got up.

Two were sprawled around the room, each one deep into their latest library book. I rolled up on the nearest one and climbed into the chair with her. She giggled and curled around me – they always want a mommy snuggle! I sat with her for a few and then repeated the snuggle on the other one.

The other two were upstairs playing quietly with each other. So I called them all down for potato chips.

Yep, organic potato chips…

See, they’d asked earlier for potato chips for a snack. This prompted a discussion on whether organic potato chips are actually healthy or cleaner play food. They all agreed that they were play food and left them in the pantry.

I say no a lot.

Sometimes that’s out of necessity. Teaching and training kids to become responsible adults requires quite a bit of “no”. Becoming a productive human who thinks of others requires learning to say no to oneself. To get through med school, residency, fifteen years of marriage and 4 kids has required me to say no to myself. A whole lot.

But tonight, I wanted to practice saying yes. Giving the snuggles the kids wanted was a yes. A few potato chips for snack was saying yes. Reading The Trumpet Of The Swan as requested at bedtime – a big yes!

Remember this one?

My biggest yes is coming up next week. A few months ago, I planned to take a few days from work to have a solo retreat. I’ve never done that before. I thought about trying to plan a girl’s trip, or doing a short getaway with my honey, but I realized that what I really needed was some space. An opportunity to be still. Time to be silent.

I told one of my partners at work about my retreat and he told me I’d be bored after one day. I might! But I’m going, and I’m going to spend as much time as I can meditating, resting, and listening to God. I’m taking my yoga mat and a journal or two. I’m tempted to plan to catch up on the things that have been on hold because of work or family or life, but I’m fighting it. I’m also conflicted about taking my work phone along. I know I should leave it, but what if someone needs me?

The work phone. Take it or leave it?

Saying yes can be hard. Sounds strange, right? Isn’t it easy to say yes to what you want? It’s not when your default is no. As a mommy, we can feel very selfish about saying yes to things we want and need. Other people’s needs seem to be more important. There’s a lot written in recent years about learning to say no, setting boundaries and honoring your priorities. And it’s true that saying no to one thing is a yes to something else. For me, I want to intentional about what I say yes to, instead of reflexively saying no. Yes to what’s really important, like snuggling the kids. Yes to eating foods that fuel your body. Yes to sleep because you need it. Yes to time alone to rest, retreat, and recharge.

My newest yoga mat

Yes comes from a position of acceptance, of invitation. It requires an openness, a willingness to receive. My criticism at work this week was hard to hear, but I’m saying yes to it because I can see how it can help me grow. I might get a little less done by reading to the kids at bedtime, but we’ve gained a sweet memory. Going away next week may mean I’ll have to hustle at work when I get back, but I will be better everywhere I am when I return.

So I’m going. Maybe I’ll be bored and miss the busyness at home. It might be hard to spend so much time away. But I think it’s going to be a special time. As much as I love my life, this retreat is time I need to expand and grow, to be the best mom, wife, doctor, healer, and lover of God that I can be. I’m going to make the most of it!

Is it harder for you to say yes or to say no?  When’s the last time you said yes to you?  Please share in the comments below!

I bought a car magnet that says, “Kindness Matters” out of a catalog a few years ago. The intention of the magnet was to encourage other drivers around you to be more considerate on the road, maybe to help decrease road rage and foster a more calm commute.

It lives on our frig…

Initially I figured it was a good reminder for the kids. They are constantly bickering, fighting, arguing, competing, jockeying for position – they’re normal kids. And after having lived with them for more than a decade, I’m pretty sure that kindness isn’t inherent. It must be taught. And modeled. And practiced. So the magnet sits in the hub of our home, a silent and every present reminder to exercise our kindness with each other.

But maybe it means more than that. I’ve started reading a book by one of my heroes in holistic gynecology named Christiane Northrup, MD. She’s written many books, but the one I’m reading now is called The Wisdom Of Menopause. It’s a huge book and has a lot of info to digest, so I haven’t finished it yet. There is a theme that seems to be running through it though, and that is that many women have spent most of their adult lives taking care of other people. And when we do that, we seem to do it to the exclusion of caring for ourselves. We tend to give lots of reasons for why that is, but a big one is that we feel selfish taking care of ourselves when others need us. Dr Northrup gets into much more detail, but she notes that when menopause and the shift that happens there comes, the lack of self care and self love is revealed, and is not well tolerated at all. It’s as if we’ve spent years of pushing our own needs into a closet, and there’s no more room. The closet is full to bursting, it’s over capacity, and all that stuff inside has to be sorted out. We can’t ignore our own needs forever.

That closet…

Why not? There’s lots of reasons. I’m not sure where we get it into our hearts that it’s our role to meet other’s needs, but that ours don’t matter. Somehow we decide that it’s selfish to ask for what we need. We learn to “put on our big girl panties and deal with it”. Doesn’t really matter how we feel about things or what the effects are on us. I’m no different. I don’t know where or when I decided to believe that my needs didn’t matter, that being an adult woman/mom/mother meant I didn’t really matter.

I’ve been living this way for awhile and I’ve gotten pretty clear what I think about it: It stinks. Living as if you don’t matter sucks, and it doesn’t do anyone any good. First of all, if you are tired, undernourished, physically weak and emotionally underfed, what is it that you have to give away to someone else? You’re running on fumes! Secondly, this is a twisted way to think about a woman’s lot in life. We’ve gone through phases as womankind, with living without equal rights to men and being “owned” by our husbands or fathers, to the women’s suffrage movement, to the separatist feminist mindset and all things in between. I don’t believe that we have to give up lives with husband and family to live fully realized lives as women. But trying to do what we are doing now, working and taking care of home and children and often parents, and doing it alone, is not what womanhood should be about. Thirdly, this isn’t the legacy I want to leave my daughters. I don’t want them to look at me and think, “Well, if that’s the life of a working mom and wife, I don’t want any parts of it!” Or they might just decide that loving other people well means they are won’t have space for love and care themselves. Nope, not at all how I want them to live.

I want my girls (and my son too for that matter!) to be kind to themselves. There’s plenty of destructive criticism and mean spirited attitudes to go around without it being self inflicted. Here’s the thing though: I find it very hard to be kind to me. The thoughts that go through my head when I look in the mirror, or miss something on my list, or put on something that doesn’t fit well, or…  The list goes on and on. Let’s just agree that most of what I say to myself wouldn’t be anything that would come out of my mouth to someone else, even if I didn’t like them. It would just be mean. But why? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I be kind to myself?

Somewhere along the way I started believing the critical voice in my head. I wasn’t even paying attention to it. I was just letting it tell me all sorts of negative things and believing that I was what I’d done. See, I know all the mean, critical, unloving, angry, ugly things in me, even when no one else sees them. For years, I’ve let my brain tell me that all that stuff means that I am those things. And in order to be worth love and care, I need to make up for it by doing for others. That’s called penance. And it’s untrue. The truth is the way Jesus tells it, that we are worth so much that we are worth dying for. We are loved that much! God doesn’t ask us to work our way into being worthy of love. We already are. And we have to recognize the voice of self criticism and unworthiness as the lie, and the voice of love and kindness as truth.

Psalm 139:14

It takes practice. And boy, do I need it! After years of practicing whipping my self into shape, by doing the right thing because that’s what a good girl does, I have to purposefully choose to think differently. I have to check in with my self and listen to that voice. Is it telling the truth? Or am I listening to a constantly critical background chatter? Am I being loving and kind to myself?

Sometimes the hardest thing is to accept the love around you, mostly because you aren’t accepting it in you. This week my kids decided they wanted to do a “spa day” for their homeschool teacher and auntie, because the first official day of homeschool is next week and they wanted to do something nice for her. Then they came to me and asked shyly when I had a day off so they could do one for me. Honestly, my first thought was, “I don’t have time for that. When would I get everything else done?” Then my son said to me, “Mommy, you always spend your time off shopping and running around. It doesn’t seem like it’s really a day off.” He was right. My kids could see it, and they wanted to love me. So I cut my running around off and let them. They soaked and rubbed and put hot towels on my feet, gave me a back rub, and my oldest made me a face mask of mashed avocado. They put it all together, and they cleaned it up afterwards. It was new and a little strange, having my kids pour attention on me, but I loved it!

I am worthy of love and care. Living that way starts with managing the voice in my head. Then I can practice being kind to myself, both in the thoughts I have and also in the choices I make to take care of myself, without guilt. Because I matter too!

And so do you! Do you find it hard to take care of yourself? Why? Have you found ways to overcome it? Please share in the comments so we can help each other!

This week has been begging for ibuprofen.

Now, I didn’t take any. Not that there’s anything wrong with taking some ibuprofen if you need it here and there. Ibuprofen is an anti-inflammatory medication, and it works. Too much of anything isn’t good though, and you need a little inflammation sometimes to promote growth and healing. I had lots of opportunities for growth this week.

But I did take a lot of turmeric and black pepper.

Let me tell you about the opportunities for growth. After I ran around like crazy all weekend at the hospital while wearing my back support for my back injury, I spent all day Monday with my five year old. We didn’t have childcare, and Perry took the big kids to Six Flags for the day. I thought I’d get some things on my list done since I’d be home all day. That didn’t happen. I must have forgotten that a five year old alone needs near constant supervision – I’m so used to her older siblings keeping her entertained! So after I cleaned pen ink off of several surfaces, I realized that my day was going to go a little differently than I planned. Suffice it to say, I started off my week behind.

Magic eraser cleaning…

Tuesday I had a day in the office where I had to give concerning news to a patient and do performance reviews with several of my staff, one of which was very challenging. By the time I headed home I had a headache, which thankfully doesn’t happen often for me. When I walked in the house, the kids had left lots of their stuff lying around everywhere (as usual). So after I corralled them, got the clean-up done, showered, ate dinner, moved them all to bed and spent a few minutes trying to plan my October retreat, it was my bedtime. I dragged my exhausted husband off the couch (he’s been working hard!) and we marched off to bed. I still didn’t get anything done.

Wednesday I didn’t sit down from the time I got to the hospital until I left. My head and legs hurt when I got in the Atlanta traffic to head home. Then we had family group midweek at our house (I stayed awake for almost the whole thing). Again, nothing done.

Thursday was back in the office. Between late patients and a double booked schedule, I worked into lunch (and the birthday party the nurses gave for me and another doctor). After stopping for ten minutes to eat, I finished up my morning charts and the afternoon began. Between the phone interview with a new doctor I had to complete and the calls from my husband about dinner for the kids (no childcare again), when I looked up it was time to head home. Still didn’t get my patient list done for the meeting coming up or the office schedule work I needed to do…

Still unfinished…

Sounds like I raced through this week, doesn’t it? That’s what it felt like. Everything in me is screaming for a break.  I don’t want to do anything but sit in front of Netflix and binge watch TV (which I never do – just not what I usually want to do).

But as I go back over the week and process how I’m thinking about it, I realized that I have quite a few unhelpful thoughts about it. As much as I feel like I’ve gotten nothing done and that I’m moving through quicksand, that’s not actually the truth. Even with the pace of this week, I did a lot of worthwhile things this week. I was able to talk to a friend going through a new cancer diagnosis and support her. I spent time with my five year old making her feel special. I kept up with my new weight-lifting routine. I finished the hospital credentialing paperwork that was due. There’s more, but even that’s enough.

Hanging out with my youngest

So what’s the problem? My tendency to get mired in the to-do list and see only what’s still left to accomplish keeps me from seeing the progress I’m making. I think it’s hard for us to see our own growth and development. But we love to see it happening in other people’s lives – we find it inspirational! That’s why we love books and movies and sports. They all tell a story, and each story has an introduction, the body of the story where all the conflict and challenges happen, and the resolution of the story at the end. The story doesn’t really mean much if there’s no struggle. It’s somewhat bland and uninteresting.

Part of the fun of enjoying a story is knowing that when you finish it, there is an ending. The story is complete, and unless there’s a sequel, you are satisfied that you know the whole story. But movies and books have a few hours to tell the whole story. Life is longer! It’s much harder to look at your own life and know that what’s happening right now is the preparation for the amazing thing to happen next month. Or to see that the mundane day-to-day is giving you something you need to weather the storm ahead. It’s really hard to know what chapter of your life you’re in.

I love book stories!

I was listening to a story on NPR while driving around this week that was about a pianist who is using artificial intelligence to create music unlike anything that’s been heard before. If he and the computer create something amazing, unless he’s recording it, he can’t recreate it. It’s random and computer generated. When he was asked if that was difficult, he said it was its own unique challenge. But it was like life – each moment is its own special and fleeting time, not to happen again.

That made me think. Am I rushing through all of my unique and fleeting moments? Am I worrying more about what I need to do next than enjoying the moments I’m living? I really want to know where I am in my story – on a cliff looking over a deep valley, standing at the bottom of a huge mountain to climb, near the top of a hill I’ve been moving slowly up for a long time? But is anticipating what’s coming later more satisfying, more enjoyable than experiencing the moment right now? Someday I will see the whole picture when I look back, but for now I’m still writing the story, at least this part.

So are you. Even when the experiences are hard, they are moments too, and they move on. If your moments are hard now, keep breathing through them and try not to wish yourself ahead. Other moments will come, and lighter ones will come in the midst of these heavy times. Try not to miss the light because you’re wishing yourself past the dark.

So while I know my beginning and I want to see all the great middle parts happen, I don’t really just want to skip to the end and figure out the conclusion. So I’m going to keep learning to enjoy the middle as it grows around me, and savor the fleeting moments of my life.

Do you love stories but can’t figure out where you are in yours? Are you tempted to rush ahead or have you learned how to savor your moments? Please share in the comments below!

It’s been a hard week.

Do you ever feel like you’re not doing anything right? I mean in a deep, core-of-who-you-are kind of way. We all wear different titles: friend, mother, wife, doctor-lawyer-indian chief (you know what I’m trying to say). There’s a level of performance that I expect to function at for each of my roles. And some days I know I’m just killing it – getting it done, doing a good job at whoever I’m supposed to be. But other days it just doesn’t feel like anything I do is worth anything at all. Let me give you some background…

Over the past month or so I’ve been reading a book called Love and Respect with my husband. We wanted to improve our relationship and our communication (who couldn’t use more of that?). But this book was hard. I figured out about halfway through that men and women truly have different cultures – our perspective, language, communication style, everything. Maybe this isn’t news to you. But I didn’t realize how very differently we see things. It explained a lot of the miscommunication and disagreements we’ve had over the years. But that wasn’t the hard part. The challenge was when I realized that I really didn’t know how to give my husband the respect he needs. So I’ve been praying to be more respectful and I’m trying hard. And still, I feel like I keep messing it up again and again.

Then we sat down with someone close to us (who has seen our family up close) to get some feedback on our parenting. And while some of what she said was positive, of course my focus was on the criticisms. I already believe that I am not the mom I hope to be anyway. So it’s really hard to hear from someone else that your way of raising your kids needs work. Parenting is hard work, and even when you are being as intentional as possible, there are still going to be times when the kids are nutty and you lose your grip, at least momentarily. But we also can develop patterns of relating and training that aren’t what they need to be, so it’s good to get help to see that. But it hurts. I want my kids to be getting the very best mom I can be, and to hear that I’m not giving that to them is very, very painful. Mothering is one of my most important jobs, and I want to be great at it. So I’ve been walking around with this deep sense of failure as a mom.

Who wants to fail these babies?

My semi annual review at work was also this week. And it went fine. No patient related concerns or performance issues. But I also serve as the lead physician for our group, so my review also includes that role. And a comment was made about something other employees wanted me to do differently, and while it wasn’t particularly accurate or important, it hurt my feelings. You notice I use the word “serve”? The lead physician makes schedules, handles all patient complaints, acts as a clinician-nursing liaison,  and supervises the clinicians in the group (among other things). And there’s no administrative support, not enough admin time, and minimal financial compensation. But there’s lots of criticism, which makes it a thankless job. Still, I’d like to think that I am doing it well. I certainly spend a lot of my time off working on it. All this means that I’m feeling like I’m doing a poor job as a leader as well…

What’s all this for anyway?

Well, that pretty much covers most of the bases. I haven’t wanted to even think about what kind of daughter or friend or indian chief I am. I’m pretty sure I’m a failure on all fronts. Right? Here’s the thing about that conclusion: It’s completely based on thoughts I have in my head. And I have learned that I am my own worst critic. So when I get into a downward spiral like this, it’s usually because I’m telling myself some things that I feel about what actually is. It’s not that I’m telling myself objective, clear-cut, honest truth.

You know what kinds of thoughts I’m talking about, don’t you? The ones that pop in whenever things aren’t going well, or you make a mistake. The thoughts that say: you always do that, aren’t you ever going to get this right, if you just had a little more self discipline, you really should have this together by now, you shouldn’t even be responsible for this, you are so lazy/weak/disorganized/stupid/fat/ugly. It looks so awful on the page, and we wouldn’t ever want to say any of this out loud to anyone, but we do it to ourselves all the time.

The good news is this: There is help! It’s really hard to see that in the midst of the spiral, but when I take a deep breath and come up for air, it’s right there. Let me tell you what also crossed my path this week.

I read a book a few months back called Lovable by Kelly Flanagan. It’s been on my bedside table to start reading to the kids, but something told be to start reading it again myself. It’s been so busy that I haven’t gotten far, but at 6 am one morning when I asked my husband to buy it for our Audible account so I could listen while I drive, he got right up and ordered it. So except for the risk of a car accident because I’m crying my eyes out while listening on the road (it is that good!), I got four gifts from rediscovering this book. My husband loved me by stopping his morning to get me the book, I’m getting supported and loved as I listen on the road, I can listen again with my kiddos at night before bed, and I’m doing more of what I want to do as a mom for my babies.

One of my colleagues recommended a podcast to me called “Weight Loss for Busy Physicians” by Katrina Ubell, MD. I started listening to study her transition from medicine to coaching and found that I was very interested in what she had to say and her teaching on how our thoughts affect our actions. This week, the podcast I listened to was about managing negative thoughts. It was next in my queue, but I’m pretty sure that was how that was supposed to work out. I needed it this week!

In my meditations this week I struggled to keep my focus. I kept having to remind myself to breathe and my thoughts kept wandering away to all the negativity I was feeling. But the scripture that kept coming up was 2 Corinthians 10:5b: “We take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ.” Just because I have a thought doesn’t make it true, and in order to make my thoughts obedient to Christ, I have to capture them first. This was a reminder I needed!

I don’t believe in accidents. I believe in divine providence. It’s not an accident that I am going through all this angst in each of these areas – it’s because I need to pay attention and grow here. And yes it’s hard, but the help I need to do it is also there. I’m not alone like a weed in the desert, left to grow or die. I’m more like a well-tended flower growing in a garden with lots of sunshine, water, and loving care. And the Gardener keeps providing what I need to grow well, whether I ask or not.

I also believe you are probably just like me. And while you might feel alone in the dark, you’re not. We are all in need of love and support and correction, and we need to grow. So if you feel like I have this week, take a deep breath. Then do it again. Then look around for the help that is there for you and know that we’re all doing this together.

Writing this post was hard. But I wrote it anyway hoping that maybe reading this will make you feel less alone and sad, and a little more like we’re all in this together.  I want to feel that way. Knowing that we all need love and support, maybe we can reach out and help each other along, even as we grow ourselves bit by bit. Do you feel me holding your hand? I feel yours. Let’s keep growing, together!

Please leave a comment – I’d love to know if you’re here with me in all this!