Last year I moved 2000 miles away from most everything that was dear and familiar to me. I didn’t know a blessed soul and the nearest friend was over 1000 miles away. To call me lonely would be putting it lightly. As a stay-at-home mom without a facebook account, I quickly realized my quest for new friends needed to be intentional and proactive … qualities I don’t feel naturally gifted in. Over this past year of making new friends and keeping up with friends from home, I have clearly seen my shortcomings as a friend. While wrestling with these shortcomings, I’ve frequently thought of my college mentor, Lisa, as an authentic model of friendship and hospitality.

I met Lisa as I began my senior year in college. She just moved into the dorm as its resident director, and I just moved in as a resident assistant. Growing up in the church, neat and tidy leadership roles and friendships defined my social experience and Lisa was about to blow my mind.

When the five of us RA’s gathered in Lisa’s apartment, she candidly told us about her life including the polished areas and the experiences most of us gladly omit. Lisa wanted us to truly know one another and she proactively laid herself down as the model of honesty. Lisa shared her life with discernment and selectivity, and she chose to bring us into an inner circle of friendship.

As a weekly excersise, Lisa asked us to share about the good, bad, and ugly from our lives. The idea of the “good, bad and ugly” may seem cliché to some, but to our little group, it was a life-giving exercise. I feel comfortable sharing with others about the blessings (good) or hardships (bad) of my life, but talking about my mess (the ugly) makes me squirm in my chair. The ugly parts are things we would rather not share … things we feel ashamed of or by … things that reflect poorly on ourselves. Things like sexual sin, yelling at family, jealousy of a friend, doubts about God. I believe each of us yearns to know there is someone who will hear our “ugly” and accept us just the same. Lisa was that person to me. Each week we received the opportunity to share the “ugly” of our lives in safety.

Lisa didn’t hide behind artificial smiles if she felt sad, mad, or grumpy, but she invited us into her life and home during less-than-perfect moments. Lisa did not hide her humanity and flaws, but was an example of loving God and others through the good, the bad, and the ugly of her life. Because Lisa brought us into the beautiful and hard parts of her life, we felt safe to share our own joys and struggles.

Lisa asked how our hearts were, and she wanted to hear the answer. She wanted to feel our joys and share in our struggles. She loved each of us goofy college girls, and we knew it. We knew it through her transparency. We knew it in the early morning cups of tea. We knew it in the late night games of Nertz. We knew it by the endearing nicknames she gave us. We were loved, and love transforms.

In my own relationships I’ve noticed my tendency to polish and shine messy areas of my life out of insecurity and pride, but that habit discourages lasting and meaningful friendship. Through examples such as Lisa, I have seen and experienced the beauty and freedom of life-giving friendship and it inspires and challenges me to be more transparent. I want to care more about loving others than about the fear of rejection. I want to invite a chosen few into my mess and my joys and in return give them a safe place to share their life and struggles. I want to approach friendship and mentoring as two-way road filled with intentional serving and receiving. I want to love others in my life and home not in spite of my literal and figurative mess, but because of it. I want to live out my humanity and Christianity with others through the good, the bad, and the ugly. I want to be a Lisa someday.

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(This post is dedicated to my lovely friend and mentor. Happy birthday Lisa, you’re the best. Love, Autumn Dancer)

In the past year I’ve evaluated why I have this blog since clearly I don’t keep it very updated.  Since I just renewed my url address, I thought it was a perfect time to share why I have a blog and why I don’t post very often:

Why I have a blog
-I value growing as a writer and appreciate a space in which to finish/publish pieces.
That’s pretty much it.

Why I don’t blog often
-Blogging stresses me out
-I don’t see myself as a blogger, but someone who writes and occasionally puts pieces on a blog.
-I’m not interested in building a following, or posting because I feel obligated.
-I only write/post when it energizes me.  Some people are energized by blogging.  Personally, I don’t find blogging restful.  There are enough drains on my time and energy these days, so I try to be purposeful about filling my limited free time with life-giving activities.

Those are my reasons.  Why do you blog?

A little tenderness goes a long way, doesn’t it?  When I’m being a bear, my husband is so good about seeing past my outward actions and identifying what’s really going on behind the surface of anger and grumpiness.  Whether old or young, so often “acting out” comes from the need for cuddles, some undivided attention, or maybe just a snack.

I think we as Christians can be too quick to blame our children’s behavior on the “sin nature” and try to rebuke it out of them, instead of extending grace and looking for the root of the behavior. Let’s be quick to extend grace, knowing there is One who daily pours it over all our mistakes.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:28 – 30 ESV

Life isn’t like that, is it?  Moments like that come occasionally. Moments of unglamorous work also come more frequently…of standing in a hot kitchen scrubbing dishes with raw meat juices. Let’s see that picture on your Pinterest board.  We cannot expect life to constantly look like the photos on Pinterest or blogs. Those are snapshots of a lovely moment or ideal, but if we constantly wait for our lives to become an uninterrupted sequence of blog-worthy moments, we will grow increasingly discontent and unsatisfied.  Life is hard work, and hard work doesn’t always come wrapped in the sunset glow of a summer’s evening. Life is bad lighting and bad hair.  Life is pit stains and pimples.

This is real life:

Everyday I clean up messes like this.  I clean when I’m tired.  I pick up when I’d rather sit on my fanny and relax.  (I also sit on my fanny when I should be cleaning).  But life’s a balance.  Work hard, give thanks, love where you’re at, and forget about the lighting.  Because life isn’t always photogenic.

How quickly these tiny toes grow.  Each day he changes a little, but ever so slightly.  So slightly, it’s easy to forget.  I need to remind myself daily to stop and savor how he looks, smells, feels right now.

My big girl turns two next month.  I remember framing the perimeter of her foot with my thumb and index finger. Her little toes are now jumping and running. How quickly these tiny toes grow.

(Thanks again T&B for the lovely blanket)

As I sat in a chair designed for a 2-year-old and helped my daughter with a puzzle, I overheard an interesting conversation between two librarians.  The two women in their mid twenties were talking about an upcoming wedding and how the bride’s married sister will be pregnant for the wedding.  They talked about how inconsiderate it was of the sister to get pregnant before the wedding and how the bride was furious with her.  Um, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was a huge faux pas…anyone else with me on this one?  At first I thought I must have heard wrong, but as they continued to talk about the rudeness of the timing of the pregnancy and wonder who would take care of the baby if it came before the wedding, I realized they were serious.  To top it all, the mother-of-the-bride (who also worked at the library) came in and gushed about how upset she was about the whole ordeal.

Granted, I was eavesdropping on a very loud conversation, but since when have precious, innocent babies become simply nuisances that throw off the aesthetics of our wedding pictures?  Seriously, do we as a culture place so much value on a wedding that we forget that children are one of the greatest blessings of a marriage?  Are brides so self-centered these days that their joy is dampened by someone who might steal the limelight?

The whole conversation both embarrassed and angered me. Once again it reminded me that I live in a culture that sees my babies as inconvenient and burdensome.   This is nothing new.  Even Jesus’ disciples pushed the children away.  But Jesus knew better.  He shocked the crowd by saying that they must become like the little ones to enter His kingdom.  He said that when you serve the least of these, you serve Him.  He said that the least is the greatest.  His wisdom seems foolish to the culture of yesterday and today.

As we walked home with a dozen picture books slowing us down, I continued to think about my role as a mother amidst a discouraging culture of self-centeredness.  A culture that says I can do better than daily laying down my life for others.  I may not work in a highly esteemed, well-paying job, and wear expensive clothes.  I may not be well-traveled or have extra letters by my name.  But everyday, I look in the eyes of my babies and see Jesus.  Everyday I have two personal tutors to show me how I must be childlike in my faith.  No matter how my role as a mother is viewed by others, when I serve my children, I serve Jesus, and that is the greatest thing I will ever do.

Ugliness lives in us all.  Some of us hide it well, deep down.  Some of us wear it on our sleeve with arrogance.  But either way, hardship brings it to the surface and forces us to deal with our ugliness.

Being a mommy stretches me and takes me to a place that no other experience has ever come close to equaling.  Being a mama is daily making me a more beautiful person.  Not outwardly, as I have my share of stretch marks, baby weight and “mom hair.” But inwardly I have never learned or loved so much.  My 25lb, 20 month old daughter teaches me more each day about human nature, grace, and love than anyone else.

Our culture avoids pain, inconvenience and hardship to its own detriment.  What are we missing out on by religiously avoiding uncomfortable experiences?  Are we so scared of seeing our limits that we cautiously avoid anything that might test us?  Joy and pain go hand in hand.  Refinement follows struggle.  Growth comes after pruning.

Let us embrace the situations that reveal our ugliness and be grateful for the chance to be different from the person we were yesterday.

When it comes to pregnancy, our culture is obsessed with due dates.  Invariably if you’ve been pregnant, one of the first questions people ask is “When are you due?”  I’ve found that people aren’t quite satisfied with a general answer such as “In the fall” or “Around the holidays” or even “Late November.”  We want to know the precise day.  As our little bundle came four weeks past my initial “due date,” I can’t help but chuckle that baby Jesus arrives on the “due date” we’ve created for Him every single year without deviation.

Most women are induced if their baby refuses to make an appearance by week 42, if not earlier.  After passing my due date and hitting the 42 week mark with no signs of labor, I wrestled with the reality of my utter lack of control in the situation.  It turns out we were off in our due date (more like due guess) by two weeks and didn’t figure it out until that point.  Like an unwanted time travel experience, I found myself once again at 40 weeks with another two to go.

The day before I went into labor, I went through a turning point in my pregnancy experience.  I finally stopped worrying about when my child would come. I stopped feeling sorry for myself that I had to wait “so long.”  I stopped thinking of ways I could coerce ”naturally induce” our baby into the world.  I embraced my lack of control.

If we let go of our expectations and embrace the sacredness of the holy unknown, that is when we find joy.  Stress, anxiety, and inner turmoil arise from our futile attempts to control what we shouldn’t try to hold in our hands.  We like to play god and when we feel the limits of our power, we panic.

As we celebrate Jesus’ birth tomorrow, I’m reminded that Mary was not the only person eagerly awaiting His arrival.   A whole nation waited on the promise of His coming.  They could not predict or control His arrival.  They could only wait and trust in the Lord’s timing for their savior baby to come, saying in their hearts, “Come thou long-expected Jesus.”

Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel’s Strength and Consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear Desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.

Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By Thine all sufficient merit,
Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

Join me over at Passionate Homemaking for some fun and frugal stocking stuffer ideas.

1 Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good,
for his steadfast love endures forever!
2 Let the redeemed of the LORD say so,
whom he has redeemed from trouble
3 and gathered in from the lands,
from the east and from the west,
from the north and from the south.

4 Some wandered in desert wastes,
finding no way to a city to dwell in;
5 hungry and thirsty,
their soul fainted within them.
6 Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
7 He led them by a straight way
till they reached a city to dwell in.
8 Let them thank the LORD for his steadfast love,
for his wondrous works to the children of man!
9 For he satisfies the longing soul,
and the hungry soul he fills with good things.

Psalm 107:1-9