Confronting my P-Bullies {Part 3}

People-Pleasing, Perfectionism, Performancism, and Procrastination.

The journey of confronting my p-bullies continues today as I consider performancism (because of course, we have to save procrastination for last).

Wait. What in the world is performancism? Surely, this can’t even be a real word. It has that squiggly red line underneath it and everything. Performancism? Really.

Performancism is not the same thing as strong work ethic. Nor is it practicing a skill to master. Just as workaholism is not merely working hard but an actual addiction to work, Performancism is a compulsive, insatiable craving for achievement.

Well…I guess when you put it that way.

That’s me.

Perhaps more than the people-pleasing and perfectionism, I am a performer–a creator, an accomplisher, a do-er of tasks and to do lists, a dreamer, an actualizer. I perform, and I perform well.

And when I can’t perform… I’m a complete and total mess.

I’ve often been told that I need to take a break, take a vacation, relax, and do nothing. But my mind quickly responds, “Do Nothing? How can I just do nothing?”

My husband and children plead with me, “Sit down. Just be with us.” And my mind quickly responds, “How can I just be? Being is a waste of time. There is so much to do. Let’s do something as a family and stop sitting around doing nothing.”

I must do. This is what defines me. This is who I am.

In his book, Me, Myself, and Bob, Phil Vischer of VeggieTales said it best:

I had grown up drinking a dangerous cocktail–a mix of the gospel, the Protestant work ethic, and the American dream. My eternal value was rooted in what I could accomplish. My role here on earth was to dream up amazing things to do for God.

I knew I liked VeggieTales.

But to the doing and accomplishing.

It began in my teenage years. Involved in every activity. Finding fulfillment and contentment in the accomplishments, the ability to manage it all, and to still be successful. Cheerleader. Football Player. Lead dancer or actress in a theater production. Captain of the Basketball team. And the awful list continues.

Then into College–working multiple jobs, choreographing for the theater department, volunteering for ministries, and still having time to pursue excellence in my studies.

Excellence. That was the root of it. I wanted to be excellent.

That’s what God had called me to be right? To be excellent in all that I did, doing it all for the glory of God.

Yes. I would be excellent in all things, and I would do great and amazing things for God. I would finish my degree, travel the world sharing the gospel, start a non-profit organization saving the lives of orphans and leading them to Christ, all while publishing great books, practicing law, learning new languages (so I could translate the Bible of course), meeting the amazing and perfect man of my dreams, and mothering  the most beautiful and Christ-like children, whom I would then homeschool from our hut in a Zimbabwe village, where we were planting a church and eradicating HIV/AIDS.

I would do great things for God.

Great things FOR God? When did my life become about doing great things for God, as if he needed me at all? Why do we think that we must do?

Please hear me. I am in no way rejecting God’s desire for us to love, serve, and obey him. But our lives are not defined by our great accomplishments for his kingdom. Rather, we are defined in His eyes, by the grace that cleanses us white as snow, and by our obedience as we take up our cross daily and follow him. This is true excellence.

So, daily I am challenged. Challenged to take a deep breath, reflect on the present, and just be.

Be still. Be still and know that he is God. Be still and let go of the future. Be still and trust. Be.

The spiritual discipline of being.

No more accomplishments. No more performancism. Just being.

Ditch your “human doing” status, and reclaim your “human being” birthright.

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{Share Today} Please share in the comments today:

• In what areas of your life are you striving for accomplishments?
• How is performancism impacting your relationships?
• Do your to-do lists, success stories, and accomplishments define you?
• What brave step are you taking to confront this bully?

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This series is derived from and inspired by The Cure for the Perfect Life by Kathi Lipp and Cheri Gregory.

{Read Chapter 1} You can get a taste of this fabulous book by downloading and reading chapter 1 Here.

{Buy the Book} Get your own copy of this amazing book, Here.

Remember, check back next Monday for “Confronting my P-Bullies {Part 4},” as we continue this #braverliving rebellion.

For those of you who missed it, here is {Part 1} of this series.

Mary 🙂

On this day…

On this day, I remember.

I remember for the sake of my mother.

I remember for the sake of my children.

I remember for my own heart.

On this day. Three years ago.

Following a phone call from my brother, and a 5 hour drive from Riverside to Merced, Kris and I had arrived at the hospital the day before. We were greeted with mixed tears and smiles. Gladness for our arrival. Complete sorrow for my father’s condition.

He had a stroke.

Doctor’s did not have positive feedback, but we held onto hope.

Late into the evening we stayed by his side, taking turns to hold his hand and talk to him, while others napped in the waiting room.

Sara and Matt arrived from Texas. Daniel arrived from North Carolina.

Motel reservations were made across the street and many of us decided it was best to get a few hours of rest.

Daniel and Kris would stay with Dad through the night. Keeping him company. Each wanting a little bit more time by his side.

I would later learn that Kris read to him through the night from the book of Joshua–my Dad’s favorite. Be strong and courageous were repeated time and again.

His condition deteriorated with the passing hours. The monitors reported the worst.

Daniel called us early in the morning and said we needed to come back.

Teeth brushed. Bras back on.

I knocked on Andrew and Susie’s door.

Mom and I drove back to the hospital in the dark of the morning and parked in the wrong spot. We had to walk to a different door because it was late in the night, and security was only present at a front entrance.

We stood by his side and waited.

Michael arrived. Dad’s first Bible and photos in hand. We would take this time to remember.

We knew it was time to say goodbye.

I began to lead in song. Kris says I led worship, in a joyous sense. Like our own version of a New Orleans jazz band playing “Oh When the Saints” as we marched through the grave yard.

We all pulled out our tablets and Bibles, sharing scriptures, songs, and stories.

We each took turns leading a song or sharing our heart.

Mac and Bre and Sonna stayed with us the entire time. They shared their own stories too. Sonna recalled her own mothers passing and Dad’s presence there during her own difficult time.

The nurses came with difficult decisions to make. We agreed to preserve his body, donating nothing to science. We didn’t want them to take his body away, but instead wanted to stay with him until the last goodbye.

I reminded my mother that our little Dani Blue Eyes had Grandpa’s eyes and he would never be forgotten.

His heart rate started to drop around 9:00 am and then spiked quickly. I shouted, “He just saw Jesus.”

We tried to laugh.

Then up and down and up and down his heart went. A longing to continue down the streets of gold and yet keeping one foot in the world with his grieving family. Like the Carman song he loved so much.

“Lord, if my loved ones only knew
The limitless wonders of Heaven
If they could steal but one brief glimpse of glory
I know what they would do”

“Because they loved me, they’d never ask
That I return to the confines of my human body
Lord, I can’t go back, please let me stay with You”

We cheered him on to the finish line. He had fought the good fight, like the boxers he admired so much. The final bell had rung and Dad had thrown his final punch.

And then like a good Baptist, he died at 10:30, letting go, just in time for service—the most glorious service of all in the presence of an amazing God.

And I sang,

“Going up to the spirit in the sky. That’s where I’m gonna go when I die. When I die and they lay me to rest, I’m gonna go to the place that’s the best.”

He was gone from us. His spirit gone and quickly he became cold here in our presence. I turned to Kris and proclaimed quietly, “Let’s get out of here. He is gone. That’s not my Dad anymore. He is gone.”

Gone in this life. Fully alive in Christ.

“Master, only You make all things new
For You alone are Lord and God, Saviour and King
And forever and ever, throughout all eternity
I’ll join the hosts of heaven
As they praise You day, after day, after day.”

We said goodbye.

And after finalizing a few hospital details, we all went to eat hot dogs and root beer at Sonics.

Dad would have liked that.

Confronting my P-Bullies {Part 1} and My “Perfect” Blog {Winner}

I decided to be ambitious.

Instead of picking delicately at this calling to write more, I would bite off a whole slice of commitment and dive right in.

So… today begins Part 1 of a five-part series, “Confronting my P-Bullies.”

People-Pleasing, Perfectionism, Performancism, and Procrastination.

Yes. FIVE-part series. No, I don’t struggle with performancism in the least bit. But that is a conversation for week three of this FIVE-part series. Did I mention there are FIVE parts!?! What was I thinking?

Oh…that’s right.

People-pleasing.

An invitation was given for individuals within the #braverliving rebellion community to blog, share, and reflect on The Cure for the Perfect Life by Kathi Lipp & Cheri Gregory. Not wanting to disappoint and wanting to communicate my absolute support for this amazing book and project, I committed to a series.

Why couldn’t I just write one simple blog?

Because, when we are focused on bringing happiness to others, to pleasing THEM instead of doing what is right and good…nothing is ever simple.

“People-pleasing is not the same thing as love; in fact, in many cases it is a major cause of the erosion of love.”

This past week, as I prepared to write, I went to grab my copy of the book in all of it’s pink-highlighted glory. I soon discovered my one-year-old daughter, Kaycee, had developed a knack for thievery and concealment. Yes, my book was completely gone. Totally gone.

I began to panic and proceeded to throw our home into utter-chaos and disarray, forcing every member of our household to search for this book. Mommy was not going to be happy until this book was found.

I quickly became convinced that Kaycee had put the book in the garbage, and wouldn’t you know that my diligent husband had emptied all the garbages just the night before, and the faithful garbage man picked up everything the very next day. Seriously?! What is it with people doing their jobs!?

So… with a writing deadline of Monday for a new blog series revolving around THIS BOOK, I was faced with a difficult decision. Keep looking and crying and looking and crying…or, buy ANOTHER copy of the book and read it ALL by Monday AND write the blog series.

My husband kept encouraging me, “It’s no big deal. We can get you another copy of the book.”

No big deal? Did he know me at all? All that pink-highlighter, personal notes, underlines, and writing ideas. No big deal?

I started to cry. I started to panic.

Why?

Because in the back of my mind my People-Pleasing Bully was convincing me that I would be a horrible disappointment to Kathi and Cheri and the ENTIRE #braverliving rebellion community by not writing.

• “How will they ever know you really care about this project unless you write a perfect blog?”
• “You will be such a let down to this community and your readers.”
• “You will never be asked to write again.”
• “You will need to beg for forgiveness and write even more to make up for this.”

… and the bully continued.

“People-pleasing is a rip current. When we ignore the warning signs and dive in, we will be overwhelmed by overcommitment.”

Here I was, caught in the deadly rip current, powerless to say no, and now being swept out to sea by this people-pleasing bully. Not only was I drowning in tears of disappointment, but I was overwhelmed by the consequences of my overcommitment.

Breath. Deep breath, Mary.

It was time to let go. To give up. Forget about the book. Get some sleep. And start a new day tomorrow.

As I put the dirty clothes from the day in the hamper…there staring up at me… a perfect pink cupcake!

I found my book.

My heart leapt with joy!

“Praise the Lord. Now, I won’t be a disappointment to everyone!”

Wait. What?! Really!? All of that emotional turmoil and I was STILL focused on everyone else?!

Then…there it was…page 236…like a spiritual-smack-on-the-back-of-the-head…

“We are not designed to please people. We are designed to please God.”

How many times have I said yes when I need to say no, only to please others?

How many times have I been more concerned with making others happy instead of praising, honoring, and delighting in the Lord?

How many times have I said yes in disobedience to God?

How many times have I been more scared of what people think, instead of living in righteous fear of the LORD?

… A few days have passed since I found my book, but in all authenticity, I found much more than my book on that day. I found some answers. Difficult answers, but answers nonetheless. Answers for me to confront this people-pleasing bully, and to seek ways in which I can please the Lord instead.

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{Winner} On July 28th, we began the giveaway for a free copy of The Cure for the “Perfect” Life: 12 Ways to Stop Tryin Harder and Start Living Braver by Kathi Lipp and Cheri Gregory.

And the winner is…

Rebekah (email: rfuller31514@gmail.com)

Congratulations! You will receive an email about how to get your FREE copy!

For others, you do NOT want to miss out on this amazing book.

{Read Chapter 1} You can get a taste of this fabulous book by downloading and reading chapter 1 Here.

{Buy the Book} Get your own copy of this amazing book, Here.

Remember, check back next Monday for “Confronting my P-Bullies {Part 2},” as we continue this #braverliving rebellion.

Mary 🙂

Christian Holocaust, Mark Driscoll, and Robin Williams

These are the headlines. The news that fills our twitter feeds and Facebook walls.

My mind spins and my heart breaks.

Questions. Confusions. Tears.

Photo Credit

Photo Credit

Photo Credit

But what do all of these headlines have in common?

How can my mind and heart equate the suicide of a loved movie star to the vicious slaughter of thousands of brothers and sisters in Christ?

And what does one pastor’s “fall from grace” mean in the midst of it all?

What is the single thread?

Depravity.

This is the fallen world. And while each news article, posted video, and image released brings waves of sadness in various degrees, it does not bring shock.

I am not surprised.

Not in a sense of of miss-know-it-all-cocky-self-righteous-confidence. But rather in honest reflection and meditation upon the Word of God and the world in which we live.

God said it. And it is so.

The heart is deceitful and desperately sick. Jeremiah 17:9

No one does good. Romans 3:12

Nothing good dwells in the flesh. Romans 7:18

Darkened and alienated from God. Ephesians 4:18

Treacherous, reckless, lovers of pleasure. 2 Timothy 3:4

They WILL persecute you. John 15:20

God said it. And it is so.

Wise counsel (a.k.a., my dear husband) has continued to remind me, “It should not surprise us when the world acts like the world.” I never want him to be right. But as the news continues, there lies the proof of the heartbreaking state of the fallen world.

In this fallen world, the weakened mind will give way to the evil darkness and depression that knocks, silencing that still small voice of hope and abandoning man with nothing but the choice to end it all. Depravity.

In this fallen world, a pastor will fail to fully comprehend the weight of his position and succumb to the emotional and spiritual burnout that so many endure, leaving a wake of divisive and destructive words behind him. Depravity.

In this fallen world, the enemy will attack from within the church, causing division and the absence of forgiveness and grace. Depravity.

In this fallen world, innocent eyes stare down the barrel of a gun, the blade of a knife, and watch in horror as their loved ones cry out, “Abba Father,” only seconds before they meet their maker. Depravity.

In this fallen world.

Anger. Hatred. Betrayal. Manipulation. Abuse. Addiction. Rape.

Death.

Depravity.

In this fallen world.

And me… what exactly am I supposed to do? A mother, trying desperately to raise three-little girls? Three little girls that I pray will someday be bold and courageous women of God? How? How exactly am I supposed to do that when their world is filled with so much darkness?

“No parent can child-proof the world.
A parent’s job is to world-proof the child.”
– Doug Flanders, MD

A few years ago I was approached by a local grass-roots political movement to help review the California state laws regarding education and help petition the local government to bring institution-led prayer back into the public school system. Although I believe in prayer, I had to decline this invitation. In a just brief moment, I came to realize a valuable lesson: I could either spend all my time trying to change a fallen world so that my children would be safe, or I could trust the Word of God which says the world WILL get worse, and instead spend all my time trying to prepare my children to live in that worsening world. I chose my children.

This was a good decision. The right decision. But now, now I must make this decision again and again each and every day.

In just a minuscule moment in history, I am tasked with the incredible privilege to pour my life and soul into the hearts of three precious little girls, and prepare them for the world around them.

But I am not alone. And they do not belong to me.

My children belong to God… HE is writing their story and I am merely putting luggage in their trunk for the journey.

So, I continue to pack bags filled with tools, resources, lessons, and love. Unconditional love. And someday, I will talk with each of them about the pain, heartache, anger, and hatred.

I will tell them about hurtful words.

I will tell them how to be careful with social media.

I will tell them about the atrocity of suicide.

I will tell them that persecution is real.

But more than anything I will tell them that I love them and JESUS loves them too!

And when that day comes…heaven forbid and tears well in my eyes as I write… when that day comes and they too are faced with a barrel or blade, they will courageously proclaim, “I CHOOSE JESUS.”

Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.
Proverbs 22:6

Praise is the Key

I will bess the Lord at all times;
his praise shall continually be in my mouth. Psalm 34:1

The early morning darkness throughout the house.

The air conditioning kicks on and sends a cool breeze, chilling my bones.

The air. The darkness.

Too much a reflection of my present heart. A soul hurting.

I went to bed angry and frustrated. At no particular person and no particular situation. Everything is wrong, but nothing is wrong. But angry, frustrated, hurting, and crying nonetheless.

I cried out to my husband sitting near, “I am hopeless.”

And I awaken, not surprisingly, in the same state.

Cool air. Darkness.

“I could weep by the hour like a child, and yet I knew not what I wept for…The iron bolt . . . mysteriously fastens the door of hope and holds our spirits in gloomy prison.” – Charles Spurgeon

Part of me wants to stay here. A pity party of sorts in the depths of this depravity. There is a morbid comfort that meets me here, for I know that I am not alone in the trenches of mind-numbing, unexplainable depression or hopelessness. Many suffer too. I am not alone here.

Dani wants to play the glad game at the dinner table. Thank you Polyanna.

I am too distracted.

Dinner must be eaten. Dishes washed. Floors swept and mopped.

But if I am honest, I just don’t want to be glad.

I know the devastating affects that gladness can have.

“How I want to see the weight of glory break my thick scales, the weight of glory smash the chains of my desperate materialism, split the numbing shell of deadening entertainment, bust up the ice of catatonic hearts” – Ann VosKamp

But I cannot stay here.

“When you do not fight for joy, it’s your children who lose.” – Ann VosKamp

I am a mother. I am a wife. I am a friend and a mentor.

But I am nothing to anyone if I allow the darkness to overwhelm me.

Sure, first world problems overwhelm my heart sometimes, and they just hurt. Sometimes physically hurt.

But my children, my marriage, my home… they will hurt more if I give up.

And so, once again, I cling to praise.

# 68. Stacks of painted paper and scribbles of butterflies and hand prints.

#69. The smell of fresh laundry warm from the dryer.

# 70. A new dress for a coming wedding.

Praising God for the good.

“Praise is the key that releases God’s character back into even the ugliest of attitudes and darkest of situations.” – Lysa TerKeurst

And so I praise. I give thanks.

# 71. Blueberry and Mango Smoothies

# 72. A garage full of tools actually being used.

Putting one foot in front of the other.

Eucharisteo. Always, always, precedes the miracle.

# 73. Home repair projects.

# 74. Grilled cheese sandwiches.

# 75. My husband holding me tight in the night.

Oh taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8a

My “Perfect” Blog {Giveaway}

Ok… so here is the deal.

I signed up to write a blog. Just a simple blog, right?

A blog reflecting my reading of The Cure for the “Perfect” Life: 12 Ways to Stop Trying Harder and Start Living Braver by Kathi Lipp and Cheri Gregory.

It’s now Sunday night. The blog is “due” on Monday morning.

It’s not that I intended to procrastinate, but…well… that’s just what happens.

Always.

And now, the night before, I am stuck struggling to write the “perfect” blog, with the “perfect” opening lines, stories, analogies, and thought provoking words to capture you as my reader.

So…here I am… reading a book to help me overcome my struggles with people-pleasing, perfectionism, performancism, and procrastination, and I am STUCK.

Stuck.

In my attempts to write the perfect blog and please all readers and audiences–because, of course, my value and self-worth is determined by how many likes, comments, and re-posts my blog will receive (it’s not life changing unless it goes viral, right?)–I have allowed the fear of failure to prevent me from writing until the very last minute. Once again. “Perfectionistic Paralysis” and procrastination at its finest.

For years now I have convinced myself that excellence, organization, order, and cleanliness were next to godliness.

“True excellence is simply doing our very best–perfectionism demands a flawless performance at all times.”

I need to be flawless, right?

The Proverbs 31 woman, right? Perfect, right?

Wrong.

“Perfectionism isn’t Christian. It’s just crazy.”

This “craziness” has actually led to craziness. With the birth of three children, full-time work and school, hubby in school full-time, and the feeble attempts to minister and disciple, I lost complete control.

Dishes and laundry piled. Panic attack.

Submission of sub-par school work. Panic attack.

Grocery shopping with the children. Panic attack. (Ok, that one doesn’t really count. Doesn’t everyone have a panic attack while grocery shopping with children?). But, you get the point.

As a student of psychology, I quickly scanned the diagnostic manuals of mental disorders for my official diagnosis. Note to self: Never diagnose your self.

Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder.

Or, was it Generalized Anxiety Disorder?

Or, was it a social phobia?

Or, was it a mood disorder?

The label had to be perfect, right? Just like everything else.

“A perfectionist is not someone who is perfect; it is someone who is miserable, because they can’t get it right.”

Now, please don’t hear me for what I am not saying. I am not challenging or undermining the valid diagnoses of those struggling with real mental illness. Some people have real mental health concerns and should treat them with all seriousness.

But some people… some people like me… need to stop the madness, stop the diagnosis, stop the labeling (my sweet husband has been telling me this for years), and just start living.

Living braver!

“We have to rebel. We have to make choices that are countercultural to our society, our families of origin, and even our churches.”

So, what exactly does this #braverliving look like? And is it even possible? Can I actually rebel?

In their upcoming book, soon to be released, Kathi Lipp and Cheri Gregory have given me some hope, and through #tinyactsofrebellion I can finally stop trying so hard and finally start living braver.

Tiny acts.

I’m learning to take small steps and rejoice in the tiny acts of rebellion that are freeing me from the bullies of people-pleasing, perfectionism, performancism, and procrastination.

Tiny acts.

Taking joy in the accomplishment of a task, recognizing that the work of my hands brings glory to the Lord–an audience of one–regardless of comments (or no comments) from others around me.

Tiny acts.

Confronting a co-worker who has continually offended me, and establishing boundaries for future interaction.

Tiny acts.

Repeating the mantra, “I am not a bad mother,” even if the dishes are piled high and we are eating grilled cheese sandwiches for the third time this week.

Tiny acts.

Accepting that failure is just a part of progress and growth, so releasing the fear and taking the risk to write more.

Tiny acts.

Publishing a blog that is far from perfect, but honest and real.

“Authenticity is what it takes to battle the bullies.”

Tiny acts.

With each act, each day, and each new chapter in life (and in this book 🙂 ), I am trading my try harder living, rejecting the fear within, embracing the love from above, and living the life of courage and bravery that God has called me to live.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and DO NOT BE AFRAID.” John 14:27

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{Giveaway} Win a copy of The Cure for the “Perfect” Life: 12 Ways to Stop Tryin Harder and Start Living Braver by Kathi Lipp and Cheri Gregory. Share in the comments with us today and one commenter will be selected to win a free copy!

1. How are you trying hard to have the perfect life?
2. What do you think is your biggest struggle–people-pleasing, perfectionism, performancism, or procrastination? Why? How does it show?
3. How do you think this book will help you?

{Read Chapter 1} You can get a taste of this fabulous book by downloading and reading chapter 1 Here.

{Buy the Book} Get your own copy of this amazing book, set to release on August 4th. Pre-order a copy of the book Here.

Can’t wait to hear from you, and have you join me on this #braverliving rebellion.

Mary 🙂

Praise God for the Good

Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise him all creatures here below;
Praise him above ye heavenly hosts;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

Sometimes I get grumpy. Just straight grumpy, full of negativity, and with nothing but complaints on my lips. Grumpy, and in a funk. My house is a mess. I hate my job. My kids don’t listen to me. My husband and I lack consistency in our communication and date nights are almost non-existent. We have no direction as a family. Most of my girlfriends live too far away, and wah-wah-wah, I can’t afford to join my sweet sisters at the She Speaks conference going on right now or the Online Bible Study Retreat in the fall. Again…wah-wah-wah.

And then I just feel dumb. First world problems, you know? In my selfishness and ethnocentric view of life I tend to forget a hurting world–slavery, abductions, wars, devastation, hunger, and lost-lost souls.

And yet, I am reminded of my sisters in Lira, Uganda, praising the Lord even in the midst of hardship. Real hardship.

Praise.

Praising God for the good.

How do we capture the love our souls were designed for and let it change us for good?  We start by recognizing that all that is good in our life comes from God and praising Him for that. It’s so easy to get distracted by what is wrong in our life and and take for granted all that is good. – Lysa TerKeurst, Am I Messing Up My Kids?

I don’t want to be distracted any more. I don’t want to take for granted all that is good. I want to praise.

Yes Lord, I enter this day into a time of praise. Praise in the midst of directionless depression and uncertainties. Praise. It roots me once again in the truth of who you are—your grace, love, and mercies overflowing even to those of us unworthy and unfaithful. You are faithful when we are faithless. You are joy when we are joyless. You bring peace when we find only turmoil. You alone lift us up and plant our feet on solid ground. Praise. It roots me.

And so I praise you Lord…

I praise you for cups of coffee, pens and journals, photographs, roses and daisies, soft candles, strawberry milkshakes, and warm lavender baths.

I praise you for my home, in all of its unique personality, broken hinges, and peeling paint—it is home, a place of warmth and comfort, and it brings joy to my heart to be here.

I praise you for a steady job and reliable income. A job that not only pays the bills but allows me the opportunity to continually minister to young adults seeking truth and answers.

I praise you for sweet friendships from long-time girlfriends and my precious Proverbs 31 Online Bible Study community.

I praise you for the three beautiful little girls who teach me each day about patience, listening, love, laughter, reading good books, being silly, and asking big questions.

I praise you for the amazing man that you have provided in my life—my protector, my encourager, my lover, my best friend.

I praise you for the freedom to worship you with our local gathering of believers, united in brotherly love and with a passion to know you more.

I praise you for the strength, courage, wisdom, insight, direction, and peace that comes from you alone.

I praise you for all that is good.

Amen.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise him all creatures here below;
Praise him above ye heavenly hosts;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

Being A Mom is Tough

We all live in a place of utter dependence on God. As a mom, I live in constant need of His love, encouragement, wisdom, perspective, strength, patience, and grace. – Lysa TerKeurst, Am I Messing Up My Kids?

My dear Sadie Rose, 5-years-old and quickly turning 18, has a flare for the dramatic and a quickly growing vocabulary. While leaving school one day this past spring, she realized in a panic that she had forgotten her favorite blanket in her classroom, and exclaimed, “Oh Crap!”

In complete and total shock, I replied, “Sadie Rose! You can’t say that! Where did you learn to say that?”

She had the perfect answer, “From you.”

Of course. Of course that’s the answer, my little foul-mouthed pre-kindergartner.

I responded, “Just get in the car.”

My children are like sponges. They will say what I say. Sometimes I am blessed when they repeat love and encouraging words, but more often than not, I am mortified when they repeat my failures.

Yes, my failures. These little girls have a way about them, naturally reminding me of my failures on a regular basis.

Sadie Rose is dramatic, expressive, and too-smart for her own good. Dani is an introvert, a bully when life is interrupted, and continually wets the bed because she is too scared of the bathroom. And Kaycee, well Kaycee almost died from choking on a bottle cap 5 months ago and now enjoys giving her mother panic attacks by finding the smallest items in every corner of every room  and shoving them into her mouth.

And I am to blame. Right?

Wrong.

Being a mom is tough. Plain and simple.

Sometimes I have actually thought to myself, “I want to throw the tantrum on the grocery store floor! Surely that has to be cathartic in some way! Would anybody think it odd if I just threw myself on the floor right here in the frozen food aisle and screamed it all out?”

Well, I may not have the freedom (or the bravery) to scream it out in the grocery store, but praise the Lord, I have the listening ear of an amazing God who gives love, encouragement, wisdom, perspective, strength, patience and grace. Amen. Amen.

Yes, being a mom is tough. But being a perfect mom is impossible. I will fail. I will make mistakes. And my children will repeat words I would rather them not even hear.  And so, I must rely completely on the Lord. He alone will see me through the storms of tantrums, bed wetting, choking hazards, and yes, even a cuss word or two.

With God, I’m never a bad mom. I might be having a bad moment…or two…or seventeen, but a few bad moments do not define me as a bad mom. God’s grace is there to cover me. Teach me. And even in the middle of a bad moment, interrupt me, redirect me, and change me. Forgiveness is there. Love is there. A second chance is there. – Lysa TerKeurst, Am I Messing Up My Kids?

I am not doomed to be a failure as a mother. Instead, I live in the freedom of knowing that  God’s grace, love, and forgiveness cover a multitude of my mommy mistakes.

I Believe…

Perhaps you are good at hiding your doubts and no one but you knows the paralyzing power they have on your life. – Renee Swope, A Confident Heart

The panic attacks began a little over a year ago.

I had come to the end of a stress-impacted season, which had begun with the death of my father. I didn’t have time to grieve, and so I masked my pain with the busyness of life, work, and academics. Once the school year came to an end, I had no more disguise. The emotion was overwhelming. The panic set in.

For a year now, I have lived with extreme doubts, anxieties, phobias, and internal, unexplainable panic. My powerlessness to control situations and my inability to “keep it all together” has led to disfunction in relationships, the inability to complete tasks, and my lack of motivation to pursue dreams. Very few knew. I wear a smile. Dress to impress. Hide the doubts. And dismiss oddities and indiosyncrisies as my A-type personality.

Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder? Generalized Anxiety Disorder? Who knows.

It doesn’t matter.

It just feels terrible.

Just when I thought I was going to drown, a professor at my university shared with me five simple words that have become a mantra for him in his battle against fear–“This Is Not From Him.” I have repeated these words many times for the last few months, and yet the panic continues.

It is not enough to remind myself that doubt, fear, and anxiety are not from the Lord.

Rather I must rely upon what IS from the Lord.

What are His truths? What do I believe?

I believe I am fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14)

I believe he is making me a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17)

I believe my hope is found in Jesus Christ (Titus 2:13)

I believe the joy of the Lord is my strength (Nehemiah 8:10)

I believe the Lord is trustworthy (2 Samuel 7:28)

I believe that the Lord is with me and I need not fear (Isaiah 41:10)

I believe the Lord is working all things together for good (Romans 8:28)

And in these beliefs…these promises from God, I rest.

And the panic begins to fade.

Happy Birthday Mom!

Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idelenss.
Her children rise up an call her blessed.

Proverbs 31:25-28a

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today, August 20th, we celebrate three amazing people in our lives.

Our dear friend, Ellen Fagundes who currently lives in Oregon but even from a distance continues to bless us with her words of encouragement, prayers, and silly pictures and memes on Facebook. Thank you Ellen…and Happy Birthday!

My brother, Andrew Pryfogle, who continues to amaze our family with his business ventures, cycling adventures, and fantastic culinary arts. Yum! We love you Andrew…and Happy Birthday!

And lastly…my mother! Pamela D. Pryfogle (she hate’s it when people call her Pamela).

Mom, we celebrate you today!

You are full of joy and laughter, embracing the adventures of life with courage and boldness.

You are a woman of integrity, speaking the truth of your heart and living your life in honest transparency.

You are a friend to many, providing Godly counsel and encouragement.

You are a grandmother of ten (yes, I am counting Matthew), seeking always to love each grandchild in their own special way.

You are a mother of five… well… mother of five… enough said.

You are a wife to one, whom you will always love and cherish.

And for me… you are the epitome of the Proverbs 31 Woman, delighting yourself daily in the Lord and desiring the best for your home and for your family.

Words cannot fully express the gratitude that fills my heart for the strong and wise woman of God you have continued to be in my life.

I love you. And I celebrate you!