gratitude Archives ·

EVERY year, my family and I go to a local greenhouse on the first weekend before spring. It started a long time ago and has kind of become a celebration of surviving a “midwest winter.” (It tends to drag on and on, teasing you every once in a while with a warm day, only to divert back to freezing rain the next.) So we go, and each year as our family grows we take in all of the things that mean spring. The bright colors, the smell of dirt, all of the opportunities of our soon-to-fail square foot garden. It’s kind of become a celebration.

This year, I thought it would be fun to write a little post on this sweet family tradition. This will be great. I figured all the kids were off school, I’ll bring my camera, snap a few pictures…perfect!

Well, in short, that was optimistic. The reality I found myself in was actually more something along the lines of this: an hour drive of arguing and whining and ‘are we there yets”, followed by bad attitudes from not eating breakfasts and us all still trying to make it through daylight savings. There was rain, lots of rain. My children running: on tables, down aisles, over to fountains, into breakables and away from me. And the worst part: me and my big fat need to get the best pictures for a post.

My dumb attitude was the worst part. As much as I wished it wasn’t about getting the perfect picture, that is exactly what that outing soon became all about. I snapped at my sister, at my kids, at my mom. All because of the pressure I was putting on myself to get that great shot. To look cute, but not stupid. To pose my uncooperative kids, to get the right lighting and to make sure I was sucking in.

I don’t know if you guys have ever felt this. I tend to be a perfectionist and when everything out there already seems to be perfect and I am such a hot mess (even when I try so hard not to be) the pressure is too much. Who am I trying to be anyways? It’s just a dang picture. But I think it’s more than that. I think it’s the scary part of trying to put myself out there more. Anytime you share yourself, in any way, it’s vulnerable. And though I wish I was cool enough to rise above it, I fall hard into the struggle to be perfect trap.

And you guys, in my chase for perfection, for the best photos, I missed the moment. I missed my kids having a great time, smiling. My cutest little nephew who I do NOT get to see near enough and who is running now. I missed time with my mom. Asking her about her work, their upcoming trip and her concern for a dear friend who’s husband was sick. I missed my sister, who I treasure time with, and asking her about her growing business, and how mom life feels and what she’s looking forward to. I missed Everett recognizing some of the plants and planning out what herbs we’re going to plant this year. I missed Courtland’s dimple grin and the sheer happiness to be with the whole family. I missed Isla’s first time really experiencing the flowers and how every single aisle was an opportunity to explore.

On the ride home we stopped at a drive-thru for coffee and as we were paying, my oldest son shouted through the window at the barista. “I love your voice!” So I rolled down my window so he could tell her again. Interpreting for him I said “my son thinks you sound like a nice person.” She smiled so big and through the suckers she gave them, I could tell it meant a lot to her.

I kept thinking of that. “I like your voice!” I think I am learning. When I am just me, when I am “my voice” and not trying to be any one else’s, or trying to say/be what I think people want or trying to look how I think I should look, or be someone I think I should be, I am way more free.”

When Racheal and I decided to blog more this year, it was because of a pull we both feel to just be ourselves in hopes of encouraging others to do the same. We want to be human, along with other humans. There is a lot out there telling us how to be someone else, but that’s not why we are each made so different and diverse. Its nice to see someone just be themselves, don’t you think? When I see someone else being “human” I feel like I get them. I feel like “I can do that too.” We should be inspired and encouraged by other’s honesty and vulnerability because it creates a real connection. No one is perfect, no matter how hard they try, so I’m gonna work on not trying.

-erin

This spring started with a whirlwind as my husband (the calm & steady rock of our family) mentioned to me that he was looking at a fixer upper house for us to buy. WHATTTTT??!! Who was this spontaneous stranger I was talking to??? Amongst the little baby stage we were just submerging from, I honestly had forgotten that fixing up a home together had been a dream of mine for as long as I could remember.

Fast forward to falling in love with two houses on the market, late night debates (we won’t call them fights ;)) one offer–which we quickly retracted and a couple of broken hearts. Slowly, over the course of realizing what a fixer-upper house would entail for our family and jobs at this time, was NOT the best decision for our family. Not a “never” but just a “it is wise to not embark on this journey yet” grown up sort of decision for us. So I put away the Pinterest boards and forced myself to stop checking listings every 2-3 hours and made myself stuff the dreams back into my back pockets for another time in our lives. This was a hard time for us, for my adventurous spirit. Let’s just say there was a lot of sulking.

And then, as if the stars aligned (or God knew just the whispers I needed to hear) I ran into the book Chasing Slow by Erin Loechner. It melted my heart and shook my world in all of the good ways. I finished the book in 48 hours (which if you know me, this is quite an accomplishment.) I swear that book was just what I needed.

I came to realize that though it is 100% ok to dream and it is a beautiful thing to want to accomplish them, I also began to discover that in order to dream I had to choose the best dreams for me at this moment. With the busy of three littles, a growing business and a husband working in a ministry position, we wanted to be able to still give to all of these without losing us. Without losing what we felt was worth fighting for.

My dear friend mentioned to me that she had started a gratitude journal and after many obvious signs of my need to focus on the good, I went to the store and grabbed a journal out of the dollar bin (ironically it was titled “The Good Life”.) I began to write down the beauty I did have. I began to WORK on not thinking about the things I deeply wanted but just weren’t in the cards yet.

Erin Loechner, in her book, said that chasing slow is a chase. I am slowly learning that there is nothing wrong with fixer-uppers or fighting to follow big dreams. It just is about focusing on having the right heart. Choosing to stop and ask, why am I chasing this? What if what I actually really want is right here all along. And then the paint brushes and the new light fixtures just enhance the beautiful things I already have. We all have beautiful dreams right in front of us.

Some of my Beautiful Things:

little hands, screen doors, deep conversations with friends, royals games & good attitudes, hammock snuggles, sidewalk chalk, sunshine, lavender candles, porch lights, morning coffee, loud hip hop songs, great workouts, yummy food, porch time with the hubs & spontaneous puppy adopting.

Some of my Beautiful Things: little hands, screen doors, deep conversations with friends, royals games & good attitudes, hammock snuggles, sidewalk chalk, sunshine, lavender candles, porch lights, morning coffee, loud hip hop songs, great workouts, yummy food, porch time with the hubs & spontaneous puppy adopting.

I’ll be honest, I’m not great at it yet, but I have caught myself looking for things to write down and found a new happiness in chasing the small things.

-Erin