As I spent time on social media, I began to feel a weight of expectations for my own life to match the life I was seeing of others. The more I strived to have the life I was seeing on social media, the less content I became and I began to question everything about myself. Finally, my husband called me out and I decided to fast social media and take my discontentment to the Gospel. Within a few days, I quickly realized that the content I was seeing seemed so scripted. Where was the authenticity? The more I prayed through my struggles, I felt the challenge to, in fact, live more "scripted", which brought me back to this blog I had created months prior. Except the “scripted” life I desire is one that is less scripted for likes and followers and more rooted in the Scripture—the Gospel, so that what I share with the world reflects the hope I profess, the grace I’m dependent on, and the glory of the Lord. As I prayed, I realized I wasn't the only person out there who desired this authenticity. I desire for this blog to be a safe place where others can come, just as they are, for genuine connection. I don't have it all together and I am tired of trying to. There is beauty in the simple, yet purpose-filled life. Grab a cup of coffee and stay a while. I pray that the Lord uses the words He gives me to encourage and give you hope along your path.
Last night Whitleigh Jo woke us up around 2am. She bantered back and forth between Mama and Dada before pulling out all the stops, screaming for Baba (what she calls the cat) to come rescue her from her crib. We took turns trying to calm her, but it was evident that we were not going to succeed. Around 3:45am Michael said, “Could she be hungry?”
I forged downstairs (without contacts or glasses) and rumbled around in the kitchen until I felt out a couple graham crackers and her milk cup. Finally, that appeased her. She downed one cup of milk quickly and I asked Michael to go grab her more since I couldn’t see anything other than the shape of objects. “Oh, no”, I heard from Michael downstairs. Seriously, why are all the things happening at almost 4am? “What’s wrong?”, I yelled down as tiny lady baby quite joyfully ate her graham crackers (does she realize they taste real good during normal operating hours, too, and will be here for her to eat in the morning?) “Well, there are ants—lots of ants. As I poured her milk I was trying to figure out what was so dark that you put in a Ziplock bag. Then I realized it was cheddar bunnies completely covered in ants”. Glorious. Michael brings us the milk and heads back downstairs to seek and destroy our late night guests. About as soon as this happens, I decide to change Whitleigh Jo’s diaper, at which time she remains completely still and closes her eyes. Was she really about to fall asleep?! I slowly pick her up, take her in her room, and place her in her bed. She reaches for her lovie and paci—not another peep. Once downstairs Michael says, “I’m thankful that she wouldn’t go back to sleep 2 hours ago because there is no telling what the ant scene would have been later in the morning.” Today, while on the phone with a friend, she asked me what we were doing with our day. I told her I was cleaning house and hoping to get Whitleigh Jo back on schedule so that maybe she would sleep better tonight, at which point I told her the above story and as I told the story I suddenly realized a bigger picture. Sometimes God shakes up our surroundings to reveal something deeper to us. We get so consumed with the storm and questioning why rather than saying, “Okay, Lord. I’m up. What do you need me to see?” He makes us uncomfortable and in our discomfort is when He does some of His best works, because it’s when we are at the end of ourselves and His strength is made manifest through our weakness. I’d prefer never to be uncomfortable, but the discomfort brings me closer to Jesus—the greatest comfort of all.
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Hi! I'm Morgan.Follower of Christ. Grace dependent. Wife. Mama. Homebody. Archives
July 2020
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