Heleuma

My crazy beautiful life. My crazy beautiful, amazing, astounding, wonderful life. Insert more positive adjectives here. I do not deserve this and I am reminded daily of that fact. Did you know I never wonder what my life would be like if it wasn't this? I thought that earlier this week and then tried very hard to imagine it, but I can't. I married my best friend, the best man I know who treats me like the precious child of God I am and constantly forget to be. I had a baby with that man and he is lovely. Full of unbelievable vivacity. My life is so precious I'm not sure what to do with it. Should I wrap it up tight? Keep it safe from all the dangers in this world? Or should I let it flow as it may?

Photo by Mark Dullanty

I think I already know the answer to that question, but it's hard. So hard. I am tearing up even as I think about how blessed I have been and how unworthy I am of any of it. How do you accept so many gifts? Ultimate humility. The realization that nothing I can ever do could afford this wonder. Humility is one of those fine lines. You need to let go of your pride, but also your self deprecation in order to truly know the meaning. It's the perfect inbetween that so few of us will ever really experience, I know I struggle with it on a daily basis. Whether I am too sure of myself or too unsure, both are downfalls of humility. But I trust in a God who is greater than I am and capable of granting me the humility I so desperately need in order to live out this magnificent life given to me.

"We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain." Hebrews 6:19 - Rory Heleuma

I feel like the thing people say constantly to new parents is, "Enjoy it, because before you know it these moments will be gone." I appreciate the sentiment, except I feel like they say it because they think I won't enjoy it properly unless they remind me. I know how fast it goes. I see the little boy who was in my womb only 11 days ago and he is a pound heavier and 2 inches longer. Don't think I don't know how fast this is going, I am bitterly aware. And as much as I want to hold on to every fleeting moment? It is so beautiful how quickly everything passes. I relish every cry and diaper and spit up. I love to watch him learn and pay more attention to his surroundings. I don't think there is a moment when I am unaware of how quickly time is passing - tomorrow my tiny child will be a toddler and then get his license and suddenly he will be getting married and having a little one of his own. And it will be perfect in all its speed.

As always, I couldn't do any of this without my delightful partner in crime. 11 days ago, Marko had never held a baby. He had never changed a diaper, never been woken by a cry or a whimper, never consoled a child whose whole world was ending. He is now one of the most capable caretakers I've ever witnessed. He can swaddle and diaper change, unstuff a stuffy nose, convince a fussy little boy that he is fine, and knows when Rory wants to cuddle or to eat. He didn't just get into it, he threw himself into it. He still gets upset that he doesn't clean the house well enough and doesn't wake up enough times in the night despite the fact that I'm fairly certain if he did any more than he already does? He'd be both mom and dad. He teases me about feeding Rory Skittles and helps him do "pull ups." My wonderful husband is a wonderful father, but I'm not surprised. I love the three of us on the sofa or in the bed. I love that we are our own family, headed for beautiful and surprising adventures.

Heleumau'ilanihekilikahiaualepo'i means beautiful, generous, radiant, wave breaking anchor. These are the hopes I have for Rory and so he is named. And yes, Marko can say it.

I am healing well, very well. It's actually almost a bit frustrating because I'm still not allowed to do a list of things that I would love to do. My September 18th appointment cannot come quickly enough. Yoga and walks are my friends. I am excited to go running, but I don't want to do too much too fast and end up in bed for a week. My tiger stripe stretch marks don't seem to bother me nearly as much as the weirdly loose skin hanging out in a perfect doughtnut around my belly button. What is even stranger is that it doesn't feel like fat, it feels like a deflated exercise ball - which I suppose is a good thing, but still strange. Today is the day I try a handstand though! High Flyers, here I come. My post natal goals are big, but big dreams are just how I roll.

Photo by Mark Dullanty

This is Rory, he thinks he's Popeye a lot of the time...

Three

Heart beats fast, colors and promises, how to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone, all of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow.

His name is Rory Heleumau'lanihekilikahiaualepo'i Dullanty. He is 6lbs 10oz and 19in long with brown hair and steel blue eyes that I'm sure will change. He is strong enough to pull his head and chest up when he is on his tummy and sounds like a teradactyl when he cries. His ears are perfect and his nose is perfect and his hands and feet are ridiculous big. He eats well, he sleeps well, he makes dirty diapers like a champ. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And he is mine.

One step closer.

I started having regulars contractions Friday, roughly 15-20 minutes apart, but I didnt't want to get my hopes up. Waiting to go into labor is essentially torture. Because you want your baby to get here and every little twinge feels like "Maybe this is it!" But, at the same time, you don't want to go to the hospital too early and be told to go home or have to sit around forever. By 7pm my contractions were 6 minutes apart and I had to really concentrate to talk through them, but I could do it and was not convinced. I wanted nothing to do with spending 36 hours in labor and I wanted to do as much as possible from the comfort of my own home. My parents took me out to dinner and Mark asked that they hang out with me afterwards (he was at work), just incase this really was the real thing. At this point my parents were sure and Mark was sure, but I still had reservations. By 9:30 contractions were between 4-5 minutes and had been that way for at least an hour, even I had to concede that this was the point I had been told to get my butt to the hospital. So I got in the shower and let my parents drive me to the bar.

I have died everyday, waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

Mark had the bar shut down and the car ready to go by the time we pulled up at 10:30pm. He kissed me and we drove ourselves to Bellevue. If I thought really hard about it, I could still talk through a contraction, but maybe one or two words and they were breathy. Contractions don't hurt initially, they feel like a rather grumpy nurse has placed a blood pressure cuff around your insides. But then that blood pressure cuff starts to get too tight and squeeze things that do not want to be squeezed. By the time we got to the hospital, my contractions were still 4 minutes apart and I was terrified they were going to tell me I was a whiney little bitch and to go home. Triage nurses treat you in that exact manner. They expect that you are a whiney little bitch and that they will tell you to go home. It's not that they aren't nice or polite, but they probably send about half of the women who come in back home. Even I was surprised when she checked me and found me at 4cm, 90% effaced. But women can spend hours, even days at 4cm. So they had me walk around the hospital for an hour to see if I was idle or progressing in labor. 12:45pm came around and I believe the nurse's exact words were: "Wow. This is going to blow your mind, but you're at 7cm." Needless to say, I was checked in.

Time stands still, beauty in all he is. I will be brave, I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this.

Contractions are no longer blood pressure cuff twinges when you are 7cm dialated and headed quickly into labor. They are rolling waves of pain unlike anything I have ever experienced. Not because they are so horrible or anthing - it's just literally unlike any feeling I've ever had before. It's almost like a kaleidoscope. It starts in the middle of your low back and gets bigger and bigger until it wraps around to your stomach and gets small and tight when it suddenly starts spreading out again, rolling down your legs. I am GBS positive, which means absolutely nothing for me and never would have come up if I hadn't been pregnant, but it can cause infections with babies (especially if your water breaks early in labor) so they want to give you at least two doses of antibiotics through an IV. After setting all of that up, taking vitals, some paper work and other things I vaguely remember, the nurses ran a bath for me. And when I say bath, I mean jacuzzi. It's meant to be sensory overload and water aids in taking gravity out of the equation when it comes to contractions, and quite honestly? It feels pretty nice. But it was too hot and I didn't want to have my senses overloaded, I wanted to just get it over with and have my baby. Mark read to me and squeezed the pressure point between my thumb and pointer finger as the contractions rolled over me. If he was scared, nervous, or uncomfortable, I couldn't tell. He was an unbelievable anchor during the entire process and seemed to know exactly what I needed and adjusted the moment I was uncomfortable. Have I told you how much I love my husband?

One step closer.

After the tub I was still only 7cm dilated which was so discouraging to me, but the midwives and nurses seemed completely fine with it. I am, apparently, impatient. Or maybe I just knew that I was going to have a quick labor and needed to be further along than that. They had me stand next to the bed and lean down, putting my arms and chest on the bed. Gravity works. They say that alcohol lowers inhibitions and that's why people love to drink. We like feeling loose and not really caring what people think of us. Labor is like that, only your inhibitions aren't just lowered, they no longer exist. Before Friday night, I had never thrown up in front of anyone. And while I'm not necessarily the most modest of human beings, only my husband gets to see me in anything less that a swimsuit. Even in a swimsuit, I'm not the most comfortable human - at least, I wasn't until Friday night. As of Friday night? I am a wild woman who throws up in front of complete strangers and allows them to hold her hair and dab her mouth with a wet cloth and wanders around completely naked because it is too hot on top of the nausea and the pain and the inability to think straight. Oh yah, alcohol has nothing on labor. I ended up getting back in the tub and then out of the tub and wouldn't you know it, fully dilated.

I have died everyday, waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

At this point I had been at the hospital for 3 1/2 hours, just a half hour to go before round two of antibiotics. The nurses and midwives let me know that I could push if I wanted and gave me tips. So I pushed through my next contraction. Pushing hurts, but I much preferred that to just allowing contractions to riddle my body. It's a much more tangible pain and therefore makes it seem more manageable - at least to me - plus you are actually participating in the labor at that point, rather than just letting it happen to you. I think everyone initially thought they had a little bit of time and were very encouraging, but I didn't make that second half and hour. The one thing I very distinctly remember was the midwife very suddenly saying that they needed to get gowned, "Yah, the quicker the better." I pushed through my second contraction. Mallory, the midwife in training, looked at me, smiled and said, "If you want, you could push your baby out on your next contraction." And I did. They dropped a towel on my previously bulging stomach and then placed my beautiful little boy there, toweled him off and then rolled him so he was on my skin.

All along I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

His name is Rory Heleumau'ilanihekilikahiaualepo'i Dullanty. Born on the 11th of August 2012 at 4:34am. 19 inches long, 6lbs 14oz, brown hair, big feet, wiry hands, and already strong enough to pick his head and chest up while he's on his stomach. He has dark steel blue eyes that I am praying turn green and is so expressive it makes me laugh on a regular basis. He eats well and makes dirty diapers like a champ. He lets us get just enough sleep and keeps us up the rest of the time. Mark says he looks like me, but I think as he grows we will find out he looks like us. He tested perfect on all his response tests and everyone tells me how beautiful he is, but I think that is partially just what you say to anyone with a newborn. Most importantly though, he is ours. He is ours and we love him. Most ardently. I suddenly cannot imagine our life without him and I can't wait to write more of it with him.

One step closer. One step closer.

We had a nurse as well as a nurse in training, a midwife and a midwife in training. I didn't mind in the slightest, they were all phenomenal and encouraging and treated me like I actually knew what I wanted. Helen, the nurse in training, talked to me for awhile while everyone was out of the room and let me know how amazing it was that I had a natural birth. I thanked her, but she persisted. She has been doing rounds at Overlake for a year and had never seen a natural birth until me. Even the women who come in expecting to do natural child birth end up asking for drugs. That absolutely shocked me. Did labor hurt? Oh yah. Was it worth it? No doubt in my mind. Now, I was lucky and my labor was relatively short and I got to spend most of it at home, but still. The thought of not being able to feel any of that trauma to my body and then having to deal with the consequences afterwards anyway along with a longer recovery time? Far more terrifying. Plus, I wouldn't have been able to hold Rory until I could wiggle both my big toes and he would have been groggy and probably unable to feed for several hours. Far. More. Terrifying. To be honest, being pregnant again is more daunting to me than labor. Do I discredit women who want an epidural? Nope. I think labor is 90% mental. If you genuinely believe that your body was created to do this and consider that women have been giving birth for thousands of years, you are going to react to it much like I do. If you are afraid of the process? You are going to have a miserable labor and I truly believe that. For some women? Drugs are the best option because otherwise they are going to have an impossibly horrid time. There is also the last 10% that falls into the realm of chance when it comes to having a difficult labor. That's just my opinion though.

I have died everyday, waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

Having a little one of my own is just as wonderful as I imagined it to be. I am sore and for the first time in my life I have a little tire around my waist, I can't wait to get the go ahead to work out and I would love to be able to do more than talk a quarter mile walk, I am exhausted and will probably not see the other side of 8 hours of sleep for the next two years, my breasts are full and leak milk, I am hungry and  change 8 diapers a day - but it doesn't even matter. Because I have the most precious thing in the world. I have no idea what I have done to be so blessed, but I am not about to second guess or question it. Just shut up and love every moment of it - that's the plan. We are now three. Mark and I have had such good talks and snuggles and cuddles with our beautiful addition and I am so excited for our future.

All along I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

The Countercultural Phenomenon

There are too many wonderful things I could gush about conerning being married. The cuddles, the sex, the shared bank account, the romance, the nerf gun fights, the coffee in bed, the home cooked meals because going out to eat is rape your wallet more expensive and not as delicious... the list goes on. But one of the things I think I enjoy most? Are the conversations. There is not a day that goes by that my beloved and I don't have a meaningful converasation about one thing or another. Politics, Religion, Ethics, Sustainability, Economics, Stereotypes - we cover the basis.

Mark is my best friend. We share everything with the exception of toothbrushes and other toiletries. When I've had thoughts rolling around in my head all day and want to bounce them off someone? He's who I talk to. When I have a bad day and need to be comforted? He's who I turn to. When I am struggling with some moral dilema or frustration? He is my voice of reason (or, occasionally, lynch mob). He is second only to God and there is no one on earth I would rather share myself with. I love our conversations.

We got married "fast." We became friends in April and began spending nearly every day together. Starting dating in May. Were engaged on August 1st and married in November. People took bets on how quickly our marriage would collapse, the confidence in us was overwhelming. Then we found out late December we were expecting, a marriage killer for sure. We didn't just dive in head first, we back flipped off a platform we weren't even sure was above water. And yet...

We went into our relationship with this exact conversation:

"I'm looking to get married, so if you're not? It was really nice to get to know you."

"Ditto."

It was never going to be a long dating or engagement process. We were intentionally getting to know every intimate detail about one another so that we could determine if marriage was the right step. Sometimes that process was more painful than joyful, other times the process was more fun than solemn. But it was always brutally honest. We filled eachother in on our histories and debated all the big issues about marriage, living together, kids, careers - and every conversation simply cemented our call to be together.

To say our marriage has been simple or easy would be an outright lie. Marriage is not simple and it is not easy. But none of the great things in life are. Mark and I have times when we are hurt by one another and we have teary discussions, but we believe in our love and our marriage. Sometimes I have a pregnant meltdown about whether or not he still finds me attractive as I steadily reach the size of a beach ball and other times he has a meltdown about whether is he doing enough for me and treating me like I deserve to be treated. And when one of us melts down, the other holds them close and reminds them of all the reasons they are loved, so loved.

playing footsy

Where we grew up you often hear that "love is a choice." I don't believe that. If love was a choice, it would never hurt you because you could simply choose to stop loving. The choice is choosing to stay. It's choosing love over anger, bitterness, resentment, hatred, even sorrow. But that is very different than love being a "choice." If your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/lover cheats on you - you still love them, that's why it is so unbelievably painful. But you are also angry, bitter, resentful, hateful, and heartbroken. It isn't that you need to choose to love them, you already love them, you need to decide whether you will choose your love over those other feelings. This is where relationships fall apart. We would rather hold on to those emotions which are raw in us, rather than the love that has remained steady in us.

We live in a culture that teaches us to throw away broken things rather than fix them. And occasionally we "upgrade," regardless of whether or not the thing we are upgrading has passed its expiration date. And we not longer create things to last, but rather to live to their warranty. How could we possibly expect our relationships to reflect anything else?

Marriage has become an almost counter cultural phenomenon, especially for young people. "Don't even think about getting married until you're 25, 30, 35..." - whoa. And even after we exchange vows, they are no longer "until death do us part," they are "until the feelings go away." Conditional love - appealing, isn't it? We say things like "I need to know who I am before I get married." Or there is a goal you feel like you need to reach before you consider "settling down," whether graduating from University, having a career, etc. But why? I agree, you should have an idea about who you are before you get married, but don't ever use that as an excuse not to get married because you will find more out about yourself once you're married than you ever discovered on your own. As for having a list of things you need to accomplish before you get married, you're just delaying the inevitable. Why not get married and do those things together? And "settling down?" Who says you need to settle down?! Marry someone likeminded and never "settle down" - that's Mark and my end goal.

All that being said, you should wait until you're ready to be married. How do you know? Well, I'm not sure that you ever really know. But marriage is about being selfless, so ask yourself - "Am I ready to be selfless? Or do I want more time to be selfish?" And be honest with your answer. Maybe you want to have more you time, an apartment to yourself, to go dancing up in the club with all them honeys (I'm embarassing, I know). Or maybe you're ready to put that other person ahead of yourself. To be clear, I do not mean that you should give up all your hopes and dreams and pour your soul into this other person - if you're marrying the right person, you should have similar hopes and dreams anyway. What I mean by "selfless" is that you share your soul and seek after those similar hopes and dreams together, but also that you are willing to give up some things for that other person. And they should do the same for you, there should never be onesided giving. This is, of course, complicated. I said marriage is neither simple nor is it easy. And there will always be bad examples.

I firmly believe that divorce is a sin. Now that I've dropped that loaded statement, let me say that it isn't worse than me lying to my parents as a 14 year old and I don't think you're going to hell if you have had a divorce. In fact, I even believe that you may have been justified in getting a divorce. Sin is something that hurts you and therefore hurts God because He loves you, one is not heavier than another. And no one can tell me divorce does not injure those involved. My theology could probably use work, but there it is.

I heard a story about a year ago from a woman whose father had been an abusive alcoholic but her mother had remained a faithful and devoted wife until the day he died. She talked about how growing up she had always thought her mom was weak and foolish for remaining with him, but as an adult she was greatful that her mom had shown her what a committment to marriage really meant. That was intense. And I'm honestly unsure how I feel about that. I don't believe you should stay in an abusive situation - not ever. But it was interesting to hear her speak on it.

My grandfather left my grandmother with six kids thousands of miles from home (military) for another woman. After my grandma moved back to Hawaii, that woman came to live with them until my grandfather got out of the service and could buy them a home of their own. My grandmother never changed her last name back and never even considered getting remarried. It is often speculated whether my grandma was weak, but I don't think so. She was amazing and believed that marriage was a lifelong committment, whether or not she was in it alone.

There is a couple I know who went through an infidelity and have remained married, which would be an amazing thing - except they chose bitter resentment rather than love and are still married out of obligation rather than respect. They are divorced at heart and I don't see a difference between that and paper. In fact, it may actually be worse because it is just keeping up pretenses rather than being honest.

Two of my dearest friends have been victims of terrible marriages that have ended in divorce. They both were single mothers for quite some time, but are now both remarried to amazing men who treat them as they should be treated. One of them told me "Second marriages are proof of love triumphing over experience." I think that's a beautiful statement. They each found someone who valued them and was willing to be selfless rather than selfish. And I see God present in those second marriages just as much (and sometimes more) than other first marriages.

Like I said, it's complicated. And I do not pretend to have all the answers. But I do believe that they exist as you seek them. And that every situation, God will lead you to an answer - it might not be one you wanted or expected, but it will be there. There is a reporter from a news show that Mark and I watch who got married at 19 and has talked a bit about being married and what it has meant to have gotten married so young. I really enjoy listening to what he has to say because it is so different from the norm we see in media today. He talks about how difficult it is to be finding yourself and growing up alongside someone else, but how it is also wonderful. He also talks about how so many 20-somethings talk about marriage with derrogatory language and how ignorant they are because they don't understand the joy they are missing out on. I couldn't agree more.

As for all you waiting for the right person to stumble into your life? I know your pain. Waiting sucks, patience is overated, and you have been ready for a long time. I get it, I do. I can tell you that it's worth the wait, but you already know that. I can also tell you that there is someone out there for you, but you probably already know that too. The only other thing I can even think to say is to learn to be happy on your own and stop looking for someone, which is just as difficult as it sounds. But the moment you truly stop searching for your future spouse and are truly content with who and where you are? That's when you will stumble upon them. It can't be forced, which sucks to hear, but is wonderful in reality. Nothing forced is ever truly good or beautiful. And know that I love you in the interim! Truly and whole heartedly.

Wild

I am wild.

Wild like a hot sunrise after a lightning storm.

Wild like sweet pea vines.

Wild like jalapeños in raspberry jam.

I like it when there is dirt under my nails and pen ink scrawl on my body.

I like the splash of water that jumps up when I'm washing dishes.

I like the stubborn donkey's slow graze.

I pit my own cherries slowly and messily.

I seek the hot equator sun on my cheeks.

I crave dirt beneath my fingernails.

I am wild.

Wild like the breeze through broad leaf trees.

Wild like a thunderhead across the plain.

Wild like blackberry thorns.

I like it when my hair falls out of place.
I like swimming under an open sky.
I like discords and minors.
I fold over myself in strange yoga positions.
I drink water from the tap.
I desire quiet mornings and laughter filled nights.
I am wild.

I care not for plans,
I am whimsically sweet.
Enough to make your teeth hurt.
I write in cursive with ink covered hands
And read my books to life.
I sing to myself songs of nonsense
With wooden beads wrapped around my wrist.
My belly is swollen
With love, with life, with the future.
I flatten my hands against the floor
Unconcerned with any complications that may arise.
There is only now,
There is only today.
I sink my teeth into simplicity.
Forgotten and forsaken is tradition for innovation.
But is it always better?
Braid the two with a mind to live intentionally.

For The Sake of Something Else

Sacrifice.

Today's Word of the Day is actually rather subtle, despite the huge connotations implied by the word. I should probably first make you aware that I am discussing the verb and not the noun; homage through death is just not my thing. So, what is sacrifice? To make an offering of; to surrender, give up, permit injury or disadvantage to for the sake of something else; to dispose of something of value (property, goods, etc.) regardless of profit. Sounds big and important.

We are "house sitting" at my parents' this week while they are in Eugene for a blues/folk festival and then in Lincoln City for a family reunion. They got to see Steve Martin, I'm eternally green with envy. The house doesn't really need sitting, but my youngest brother is still living at home and while he doesn't need anyone to watch him, he does need accountability. So it helps if we stay at the house. I love my brother and I am more than happy to be there for him, but I do not want to stay at my parents' house. It doesn't even have anything to do with the house or the responsibility, it is entirely because it's not my home anymore. I have a new home that I love and I want to be there. Vacation's are different. Living in someone else's house while you're going about your normal everyday life? I don't like it, not even a little bit.

"No great wisdom can be reached without sacrifice." CS Lewis

But sacrifice, even small and insignificant ones like living at your parents' house for a week, is important. Not just that you make them, but that you make them cheerfully. And making a cheerful sacrifice does not always mean you are going to like the sacrifice you are making, it simply means that you recognize it needs to be made and you let your heart be transformed by that knowledge. Let yourself be transformed. Sleeping in a bed that is not my own in a house that is not my own while in my last leg of pregnancy is not my idea of fun, but I am glad of this opportunity to give more of myself so that others (my parents and brother) might feel love and be appreciated. I think in order for a sacrifice to be genuine, part of you has to want to hold back but decide for the best of others to give anyway.

Real sacrifice is beautiful. It's not just reluctant house sitting for your parents, it's lovely and true. It breaks down barriers and builds up people. It is hope. It is love, unconditional and never ceasing. Joyfully surrendered for the greater good. It's not something that you can teach or force of someone, it must be done by your own free and wholehearted will. Sacrifice. It is a word with weight, so much weight. And it is so important.

"You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it." JM Barrie

I believe that sacrifice is necessary. I believe this because I have experienced the blessings from the ultimate sacrifice and I am undeserving. I believe this because I have witness the sacrifices of others for the benefit of those around them. I have seen great sacrifice and great suffering and I believe it is necessary. For through these acts of unconditional and unrequited goodness, we find joy and hope and love. We find all things beautiful and lovely. All things wonderful and fulfilling.

I believe in order to be a good wife, I must know and experience sacrifice. Expectantly. I must yield all I am and more, not losing myself in my husband, but giving all of myself. Without reservation. For reservation negates sacrifice. If true love is to be my calling, it must be sacrificial love. And I believe in order to be a good parent, I must know sacrifice. I must know great sacrifice. I must love my child(ren) until it hurts and be willing to give my everything for them. They are, after all, my heart wandering beyond my body.

"A man (Jesus) who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act." Mahatma Gandhi

Reading and writing, allowing God to speak truth into my life through His Word, my husband, my family, my friends, and all other things. I sometimes forget to listen for that still, small voice because I am waiting for a loud, commanding one. I hear the "sacrifice" and it resounds in my mind with a boisterous crash, but it shouldn't. It should be soft, it should be quiet. I am so sure that quiescent words are the most resilient, the most pure. The kind that echo not due to volume but due to their undeniable and heavy truth.

My word is sacrifice. But it isn't just the word of the day, it is the word of my life. It is what I must live out in order to truly live at all, because merely existing was never an option. I desire to love this world as I have first been loved. I desire to love sacrificially, to live sacrificially. I believe it is an impossibly wonderful task that I will spend the rest of my life working towards, and I am so glad of it. To live for the joy, for the sake of something else, what better life could there be?

I am a wife and a mother and I desire a life of beautiful sacrifice.

Jalapeños

Radio silence ends here?

I've been rather quiet, which I apologize for, but I actually can make no promises about being better about blogging - sorry. I have mere days left of pregnancy and am keeping myself fairly occupied with Pinterest. Just kidding, I actually have been up to quite a lot. Figuring out hospital plans, hanging our beautiful baby hammock for Critter, sewing a maya sling, getting together with what seems like the entire world before I give birth and spend the first couple weeks doing nothing but staring at my precious little one, figuring out easy freezer meals to make now while I have the time and energy, working/trying to get ready for maternity leave so someone else can do my job, and various other things.

It's strange, even though I know I am busy, I feel like all I do is day dream these days. Daydreams about finally getting to hold Critter, running, breast feeding, snuggling baby, touching my head to my shins or any yoga without modifications, baby baths, clothes that fit... a lot of my daydreams are fitness related, the rest are baby related. Being pregnant has taught me that you need to take ridiculously good care of your body. My bones ache from all the weight and the awkward gait and my breasts growing by the minute. I don't want the body I had before I was pregnant, I want a better one. I want to care for it as it has never been cared for, it deserves it.

That being said, I'm enjoying this last haul of pregnancy. Being told to keep off my feet when I feel tired makes me scrunch my face, but I don't mind nearly as much as everyone said I would. My inability to control my internal thermostat can definitely get uncomfortable, but it's nothing a cold shower can't fix - and I loveee cold showers. I'm glad there is so much sunshine and my ever moving child makes me laugh out loud sometimes. Being big and needing to pee constantly is, of course, challenging, but I wouldn't say that this is the worst Summer I've ever had. Everyone seemed to think being pregnant in high Summer was the world's end - I've got news, it isn't. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and it is my sweet sweet Critter, I don't mind waiting. Through the heat and the discomfort and the contractions and the keeping off my feet, I don't mind.

Mornings have been reading and scrawling page after page of nonsensical Malia words. Days of water bottles and work, trying to prep for the little one. Nights hold yoga, cuddles, movies, and more writing or reading. Mark is ever amazing and still believes I am beautiful, funny, and not ridiculously overemotional by any stretch of the imagination. Have I mentioned how much I adore him? No? Well, let me make it clear: I have the most wonderful husband.

We had a terrific appointment with a midwife this morning, she was a lovely blessing. Funny and honest, I don't think there is a better combination in humans. She reassured me about how well I am doing and let me know some good ideas for labor, it was just a really great appointment. Even Marko liked her. We are so excited to meet our little one! Just 18 days left, deep sigh of motherly joy.

The advice seems to flow from every mouth about pregnancy, labor, and newborns - here are my words of wisdom to you if you're pregnant: Don't listen. If you have a question about something and ask someone? That is the only time they have any right to give you any piece of advice. Do whatever feels best to you, momma! Trust your instincts and know when to ask for help. Simple as that. People will tell you stories and what works best, but that was them and their baby, not you and yours. Do your own thing, figure it out your way. Have no idea what to do and feel overwhelmed? Take all the ridiculous advice people give you! Just do what feels right to you, and I genuinely believe everything will work out.

I don't think I've mentioned that we heard back about missions! We are officially in the discernment process - which means we are going through background and reference checks and they can really get to know us (and we them) through interviews and the like so each of us can decide if this really is the way we would like to go on mission. Both Mark and I have had our phone interviews and are now filling out paperwork so we can hopefully start moving through this process in September. The timeline, if everything falls into place, looks to be June of next year. Longer than we wanted to wait? Definitely. But that is okay, we aren't functioning are on our timeline. Patience is more like the word of the year.

I recently stumbled upon the beautiful opportunity to read the truly touching story of a dear friend of mine, hers is a heart wrenching and lovely journey. I was moved by her honesty and the amount of love poured into the story. In a lot of places, it reminded me of my own story, which I have been convicted to share. I'm not sure in exactly what manner yet, but I've already started writing so we'll see the form my story reveals itself in. I often give the big picture, but intimate details are often still fleeting in my story. They deserve to be shared. I'm very cautious and tentative in doing this, but I'll keep you updated as to how it's moving.

I'll end with this:

I love you. Whether I know you or not is irrelevant. You are a beautiful soul full of wonder and possibility and I don't need to have met you to understand that. You were created for amazing things! Maybe you're already doing them, maybe they are yet to come, but never doubt your place in this world. Things might get hectic, frantic, dismal, despondent, or any number of other things - but know that you are loved. Even if just by me, who is ridiculous and struggling with my own crazy issues all the time! You are not alone, you are with so many of us in heart and spirit if nothing else. Know you are loved.

 

See how much I love you?!

In Controversial News

So on the topic of how badly I want to save the world, read these:

http://www.girifna.com/blog-girifna/news/5784

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/daniel-solomon/as-sudan-revolts-building_b_1643793.html

http://transitions.foreignpolicy.com/posts/2012/07/05/why_we_re_ignoring_the_revolution_in_sudan

How this is going on entirely under the radar of most of the general public is beyond me. Why we only caught onto the revolutions last year once they hit Egypt is beyond me. This world is so much bigger than the petty scandals we spend so much time obsessing over. Sudan is in the middle of a student revolution and we are worried about the Kardashians and Tom Cruise's divorce. I do believe this is a WTF moment, ladies and gents, WTF. Educate yourselves.

Here on this side of the planet, I confess myself a little flustered. I realize I get uppity about money and hypocrisy quite often when I really should take a step back and breathe, I am sorry about that. You didn't get on my blog to read self righteous ramblings of sinner. I would like to point out that I am flawed and not even remotely close to pulling myself together except by the grace of God for mere seconds... milliseconds.

Now that I've apologized for getting uppity, I'd like to do so! Well, kind of. This is going to be a rather long train of thought. It starts with Chick-Fil-A (although it starts numerous places, that is just the place it starts today). Chick-Fil-A has recently become enemy number one, or at least in the top ten, to the homosexual population. Why? Because they support fundamental Christian marriage... I'm confused. Chick-Fil-A has been a fundamentalist Christian company for 66 years, why is it any surprise they support fundamental Christian marriage? They did not come out and say that they hate the gays or anything even close to that, just that they believe in marriage between a man and woman. The next complaint against the company is that over 2 million dollars of their charitable givings have gone to "anti-gay groups," but I have a problem with that as well. They didn't donate the money to the charities because they are "anti-gay," nor did they just start donating to these charities as the "gay issue" has come about, they donate to other fundamentalist Christian groups... again, why is this surprising?

Before you jump all over me about gay marriage and rights - I do not agree with Chick-Fil-A's stance on homosexual right to marriage. Firstly, marriage in the United States is of the government and not of the Church, so we really should have no say. It is a bunch of rights, tax breaks, and just a general commitment to another person that is recognized by our country's government - so whether or not you believe it is wrong or right as a Christian, it is equality under the government. Secondly, I struggle to accept that a loving monogamous homosexual relationship is a sin - but we can have that debate all day and all night, so I'm going to leave that one alone for now. My point is: Chick-Fil-A is entitled to their opinion. Hating them because of their opinions makes you the bigot, not them.

What this comes down to is equality. If you want the right to express your opinion about homosexuality, then you must grant others the same privilege. Period. Whether you agree or not is not the point. There are very few things in life that I believe are truly black and white: Freedom and Equality are two of them. You are either free or not free, equal or unequal, but you can't be partially free or partially equal. I have the same issue with modern day feminism - do I believe women are equal to men, absolutely. Do I believe women are better than men, no. That's not feminism, that's sexism. Going to see Magic Mike because you want to drool over shirtless men when the second a man goes to a film to drool over a woman it is objectifying her? Spare me. We attempt to make up for inequality by parading our new equality about - but that isn't the same as being equal: BET, Pride, Universities accepting lower scoring individuals because of their ethnicity... just a few examples of "equality" gone over the top.

Excited about being black? Good for you. Love being gay? Awesome. Rocking your culture as a minority? Sweet. Adore being a female? Wicked cool. Keep that pride in who you are, but recognize it doesn't make you anything more than the person next to you. I love African Americans - I also love Africans (they take issue with being grouped together), but I also love Asians, Arabs, Europeans, Latin Americans, and Caucasians. I love the homosexuals and heterosexuals equally! Having a different culture and ethnicity is really cool, whether American or Tongan or Cambodian. Ladies are baller, so are the gentlemen. For me it's just frustrating to see everyone become so polarized about this stuff. You don't have to like someone's opinion, you don't have to agree, but they are just entitled to theirs as you are to yours. You don't even have to agree with me about any of this! It's just the ridiculously long train of thought I come back to time and time again. This morning it started with Chick-Fil-A, tomorrow it will start with something else.


That's all for now, feel free to feed back!

Raspberry Nights

Satisfied, today's word is satisfied.

My mouth is hot. Curry powder, cayenne pepper, white pepper, and a touch of olive oil splashed into a pan with a piece of chicken, a handful of sweet onion, and some bell pepper over basmati rice with a sprinkle of salt. My mouth is hot, but happy. Yesterday, I decided my word of the day needed to be satisfied. Primarily because it was quite the opposite of what I was feeling. It has been a busy week and I needed to feel satisfied for more than 5 minutes. I needed the satisfaction I get from 90 minutes of yoga to last for more than 10 minutes. I needed the satisfaction I receive while reading or journaling to secure me for more than a fleeting moment. No matter what I did, it didn't seem to be what I needed.

Then I spent 5 seconds intentionally spending time with my husband as he got off work. Better, much better. So, this morning/afternoon, despite our prenatal check up and the minimal amount of sleep, we just spent time with one another. Phones far from sight and cuddled up in bed even after we got home from our outings. Satisfied. We did spent some time doing yoga together and, before I continue, I must retract a statement from a previous blog. Marko says he would totally down to do partner yoga, I just have to give him enough time to get into yoga-shape. I am pretty excited about it!

After not hearing anything back about even receiving our missions application, I called and discovered the Director is on vacation until the 1st of July. But they had received our application(s) and were very sorry no one had let us know. So, we should be hearing something sometime after next week. I think we will probably hear something mid July with next week being the 4th and everyone just returning from vacation. Our hopes are still high that we will be able to find placement by January 2013, but I know that whatever happens, God has a plan.

Our dear friends Jeff and Greta get married tomorrow. My first thought? "It's so weird to see people I know getting married." Oh, wait. I am married, pregnant, and seeking a career as a missionary and the idea that I am a 'grown up' escapes me entirely. Jeff and Greta have been searching for one another for longer than either realized and it is such a blessing to listen to each of their stories. They are both gifted and amazing teachers both in and out of the classroom and it has been a real privilege to walk alongside them on this journey. I know their live together will be one of intense wonder and love.

Today has already been everything I needed it to be. I am sipping on cold chai tea I made yesterday mixed with peach juice, it is satisfying. The raspberries from the garden are the perfect combination of sunkissed sweet and tart. I am starting my third yoga class for the day and am immensely happy with the light dull ache of my body that has nothing to do with my pregnant belly. I have apparently stopped gaining weight, which makes me feel light and happy, but also better about the weight I have gained. Critter is exactly the proper size, position, and has a lovely heartbeat to match his/her extremely active nature. My reading/journaling time has been an absolute consistent blessing. And I am reminded that my life always looks hectic when looking at it head on, but is copesettic as a big picture.

 Now what to do with all these raspberries?

Yoga Daze

Yoga: Literal meaning of "yoke", from a root "yuj" meaning 'to join', 'to unite', or 'to attach'.

I discovered yoga in Junior High. We had to do yoga for Cross Country once a week, and while most runners loath the concept, I fell absolutely in love. I'm bendy like Gumby and getting to put my palms to the floor first try while the rest of the team struggled to hold their ankles? Made me feel like a rockstar. I then had the opportunity to take a yoga class as a Running Start student, which I liked a little less. Hatha seemed too formal, too rigid. And the constant waterfall sounds either put me to sleep or made me have to pee. After that point I would occasionally get yoga videos from the Library and would eventually come to fall even more in love with Hot Yoga. From the disgusting sweaty mess you become while on the mat to the cool clean feeling you get once you step into the shower, it was like magic. From there I taught myself.

I've watched yoga fix back problems, help a woman with MS touch her toes for the first time in her life, whip people into shape, decrease depression... so many things. It doesn't have to be insane head stand inversion yoga, it can be simple. I think the hardest part about being pregnant, especially now as I get to the "pop" part where I am my very biggest, is not being able to do as much yoga as I want. Before I found out I was expecting, I was the smallest I had been since High School, losing that? Sucks for my vanity. So in my state of waiting, I plan my comeback. And much like any comeback cliche - it's go big or go home.

I have lost what feels like all of my muscle mass, my weight is more than I feel comfortable even admitting to myself, my pants size is unmentionable, I can't breathe because all my internal organs are crowding my lungs, and it is totally 110% worth it. I am creating life. People tell me that all the time and honestly, it just makes me want to pet their face. But when I really take time to think about it? It's awesome. I wouldn't change a thing - except - I would have been much better about water, food, and working out in those first stages where all I really wanted to do was die. It is damn near impossible to think about any of those things while you're throwing up for the third time in two hour time period, but that's the most important time to do it. Go figure.

Yoga has been my workout lifeline. It calms me down when I'm overemotional (aka all the time), gives me the physical activity I desperately crave, stretches me out and makes me sore in all the right places, and just refocuses me. There is apparently a lot of controversy about doing yoga as a Christian as it has ties to Hinduism and Buddhism. People who are involved in this controversy need to take their issues to the mat. Seriously. Personally? I stay away from most of the mantras, prayers, and meditations involved with Hindu or Buddhist yoga. But that's primarily because I have my own mantras, prayers, and meditations. Yogic texts are some of the oldest in the world and while many religions have incorporated yoga into them, they cannot claim it as their own. It's just an amazing way to workout, pray, center yourself, meditate - whatever you want it to be. You are meant to make it entirely your own. So I do.

As I get all stoked to get more into yoga than ever before, I have discovered several inspiring people, videos, websites to keep me motivated. Yogis Anonymous: $15 a month for unlimited live and recorded class access in your living room? It cannot be beat. They even have rotating free videos so you can check them out and see if it's for you! Damn Good Yoga: Sometimes new age-y for my taste, but excellent insights into the world of yoga and various asanas (poses). Briohny Smyth: She's got moves. This is my post natal goal, smooth inversion ashtanga (the partner yoga is cute, but I doubt I could get Marko to do it with me without making me laugh).

It helps my sanity. Doing even 10 minutes of yoga when I have a spare minute makes my whole world slow to an acceptable pace. If you do a pre/post natal class on Yogis Anonymous, there are often moms in the classes with little babies lying on blankets in front of their mats. I think it's possibly the most precious thing I have ever seen. I am so excited to see Critter there next to me while I get my practice on. Currently the little one does not appreciate when I do too much yoga and protests by occupying my lower ribcage for the rest of the morning/afternoon/evening. I think it's cute, even if slightly uncomfortable.

All for yoga and yoga for all.

Too Many To Count

The word of the day is blessed.

Pregnancy emotions are super. I've never cried so much in my life as the last 7 months. But for all the ups and downs? I have gotten to be really honest about my emotions, primarily because there is no way I can hide them, but it's nice. It's nice to tear up when I hear a really moving song on the radio. And it's nice to laugh inappropriately loud when I read something hilarious in the middle of the library. It's nice to look at my husband and know that I am absolutely oozing with love for him and he can see it. I am not used to wearing my heart so openly on my sleeve and it's really nice.

You may or may not have picked up that I'm into the whole "God thing." What you might not know, is that I can probably count the number of my friends who believe in God on one hand. Sometimes? That is really difficult. I say something about Church and there is a look that crosses over their face - like they aren't sure how to react, like I might throw a bible at them. Sometimes it's pretty funny, other times it's kind of alienating. Christianity has absolutely assaulted by it's own "believers," when all it's really about is love. I don't want to drag anyone to Church or instruct them on why they are sinners that need to be saved. In fact, I find it's almost the opposite. More people try to talk me out of believing in God than I have ever spoken to about believing. And despite the fact that so many of my friends don't understand my beliefs, they stick it out with me. I am ridiculously grateful for them. They put up with my Church and God talk with limited amounts of awkward and try to be excited for me even when they don't get it. I hope they each realize how much I love them, regardless of their faith.

When I talk about doing mission work, becoming a career missionary, a lot of people don't know how to react. To be clear, I'm not headed to hand out Bibles and westernize a savage nation. That thought actually makes me laugh out loud. I am totally down to talk religion with anyone who wants to and if you'd like a Bible, I will hand you one. But I'm more interested in living life with people, helping them create a sustainable living, getting them the medical care they need, and assisting in educating them to be self sufficient, to read and write in their own language, to help others in need. Not because I think I am better or smarter than anyone else, I am most definitely not, but because they haven't had the opportunity to learn these things and maybe haven't had anyone to give them a hand, to love on them. That is the reason my husband and I are headed on mission.

Patience is not the word of the day, but maybe it will be someday. Something I struggle with on an almost daily basis, I seek patience with almost as much fervor as I seek joy. Possibly with more, because joy is easy for me to attain whereas patience is not. I am decidedly impatient. I want things to be happening now. Right now. Not tomorrow, not a week from now, not in a year. Spontaneity is one of my greatest gifts - and most horrible curses. Patience has, however, been the theme of my life lately. I am waiting for Critter to arrive, waiting to hear back about our membership applications, waiting to hear back about our missions applications, waiting for my certificate, waiting for our home to be set up for baby, waiting to hear more about CAR, waiting on letters to arrive, waiting for Summer to finally get here, waiting for articles to be published, waiting, waiting, waiting. I am learning patience whether I like it or not (definitely not). But I am thankful for the opportunity to learn this skill because, let's face it,  life is difficult without patience. Deep sigh.

Maybe you don't understand why, but today's word is blessed. Blessed because I am overemotional. Blessed because I have friends who love me even when they don't understand me. Blessed because God has given me an absolute burden on my heart for those in need. Blessed because I am learning about patience. Blessed with an active child and loving husband, a darling Church community, a wonderful job and other job opportunities, a bed with blankets, food in my fridge, and a beautiful home with lovely landlords... there are so many things I could list. I have an overabundance of blessings in my life, too many to count. Even on the difficult days and in the hard moments, I have a beautiful life that is so full! The word of the day is most certainly blessed.

Living On Less

I am one of those people who talk a lot, but I also believe in talk should be backed up by actions. So here are some quick tips on how to live on less. It's better for you, your community, and the rest of the world. Ready?

STOP comparing yourself to others. Albert Einstein said, "Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by it's ability to climb a tree, it will live it's whole life believing it is stupid." The quote is applied to intelligence, but it could be anything: beauty, luxury, material items...

START keeping a list of things you're thankful for. And don't just write them down once, write each thing every time you happen upon it. This way of thinking can change your whole life. My short list today: Husband, Critter, friends (specifically on my heart: Jordy, Jenae, Kendall, Rachel, Becca, Nik, Eli & the triplets), early mornings, sunshine, green grass between my toes, sharpened pencils, good playlists, my certificate being in the mail, yoga, a bed with blankets, giving $20 of Safeway money, prayer, my job, hope, love, and my grandma's pickles.

FIND a purpose. Something you are passionate about, something that allows you to utilize your time, your talents, your testimony, and/or your treasure. Whether it's volunteering, doing work pro bono, sharing your story, or giving to those in need? It's important.

Figure out a budget. Do you know how much you make or spend? So many of us just check to see that our bank statement doesn't say zero and leave it at that. Calculate how much you make a month, which might vary if you work hourly or freelance, then work this math:

20-25% - Housing: rent/mortgage, taxes, insurance, interest, repairs...

20-25% - Food: groceries and meals purchased outside the home...

15-20% - Operating Expenses: electricity, fuel, telephone, water, laundry, house cleaning, yard work, autocare, auto insurance...

15% - Clothing: clothes, material for clothes, shoes, accessories...

10-15% - Advancement: School fees, tuition, books, lectures, medical or dental fees, prescriptions, recreation, vacation, contributions to charity...

10-15% - Savings: Savings, assets, life insurance...

Those numbers are obviously flexible. For instance, if you are a total foodie? You might spend 25% or more on food. If you are a shopaholic? You might need to put aside more than 15% for clothing. The important thing is to figure out your budget and stick to it. Once my husband and I sat down and did the math? We had no problem with our finances. This isn't crazy complicated stuff, just figure out the percentages and what things you want to do more/less of.

Downgrade. In a day and age where people are racing to the shelves to buy the latest such-and-such, we are in need of some back pedaling. Your cellphone; the new iPhone is pretty cool, but do you really need so many minutes, texts, and a data plan? You could wait until you got home to get on Facebook. Your computer; with all of the little options now available for those of us who only use computers for Microsoft Office and the internet, it's hard to imagine why you think you need anything larger unless you do serious photo, music, or graphic design editing. Your apartment; find something where you utilize all of the space in a healthy way instead of just acquiring stuff to fill it. Your car; I don't mean sell your beautiful new car to purchase a beater, but consider getting a car with better gas mileage rather than flash. Buy a car that is already a couple years old with low mileage, do research to find out which kinds of cars need more work done on them in the long run and which run themselves into the ground. Or, if you're located in a city, small town, or somewhere with excellent public transportation? You could ditch the car for the train, the bus, a bicycle, or even walking. If I wasn't pregnant, I'd consider a bike.

Count your pennies. I mean this quite literally. Pay in exact change when you can and keep a jar at home for the rest of your coins. Coinstar has "revolutionized" they way people look at coins, but it also takes a rather large percentage. Go down to your bank, ask the nice teller for coin rolls (they are free), and roll your own quarters. You will accumulate a full roll much faster than you think. Keep a stack and when you remember or have an extra minute to go into your bank, take them to the teller and he or she will gladly deposit them for you - without taking $0.09 a dollar or whatever Coinstar steals from you now.

Pay off your debt. I know, you hate to be told that, but it's true. A large corporate bank was informed that if they dropped the bottom 5% of loan holders, those who had defaulted on loans and had significant other debt, they would reduce the number of people who claim bankruptcy by something like 60%. They declined because that 5% are how they make almost 100% of their profit. Those people will continue to pay the minimum balance on an outrageous amount of debt until they die and then? Their children can be held responsible. Can't figure out how to break the cycle? Firstly, stop spending beyond your means. Chop up those credit cards and live on what you actually make. Numbers one and two should help you with that one. Secondly? Pay extra on your balance instead of splurging on something you may not need. Get someone to hold you accountable: a spouse, friend, family member. Can't handle plastic? Me neither. It's fake money. You slide the magic card next to the mystical computer screen and press "accept!" I have to function almost entirely in cash. Before I got married? I didn't have a bank account, I had a lock box. That might sound crazy to some of you, but I wasn't working much and lived on hourly wages. I had a Savings Account that to this day has $5.07, but no card. Now that I'm married and making a regular living? My husband and I share a bank account. But I keep cash in my wallet. Cash is real, it is tangible to me. I can see I have a $20 bill and I know exactly how to make it last for 2 weeks, no exaggeration. If plastic is something you love, but maybe doesn't love you back? You might want to consider a cash system.

Dine in. You probably hear this on a regular basis, but do you actually know how much more eating out costs? Do some research. Don't have time to come home and create a nice home cooked meal? Brown bag it, sucker. A deli sandwich costs cents to make and will probably be chalk full of all the sandwich toppers you love, instead of half-assed. Make your complicated Starbucks drink at home, purchasing a cheap espresso machine can pay for itself in less than a month, assuming you only have caffeine once every other day. Invest in that.

Learn more about your groceries. I am a fruit addict, and in December? Strawberries can cost as much as $8.99 a pound. That's ridiculous. So purchase your fruits and veggies in season, because that adds up quickly. Then teach yourself to can/jar and freeze. Jarred nectarines are not as good as fresh ones, but they are better than none. It's actually really easy and you can make probably 100+ jars in an afternoon of all your favorite produce (assuming you have the shelf space for that, I do not). Make a meal plan. It doesn't have to be specific, "Here is what I'm eating Monday for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!" I know I don't function like that. Just make a general list: Here are 7 breakfasts, 7 lunches, and 7 dinners I want to make this week. And if you can have them tie into each other or do leftovers, great. Check your cupboards and fridge for what you already have and make a list of what you'll need to accomplish those 21 meals. Then shop from it. Adjust as you go. Oh and coupon. From your newspaper or online, shop the sales. It's a learning process, don't let yourself get overwhelmed. There are hundreds of blogs entirely for this purpose - utilize them.

Befriend thrift stores. Goodwill might seem tacky to you, but I've purchased a pair of True Religion jeans with the tags still on for $7.00. Granted, that was an awesome find, but assuming you are that picky? There are hundreds of designer boutiques that will only sell high quality label brands. And if you're not that picky? You couldn't ask for a better venue for shopping. Make sure you're also purchasing clothing out of season. Buy all your winter gear after it goes on sale in the Spring or Summer, get your swimsuit in November. Savings, savings, savings. There is a thrift store just down the hill from where I live that has "half-off Saturdays" which makes their already low prices of $1-7 impossible to beat. Plus, all the mocking of ridiculous items for sale in second hand stores is worth the trip in itself.

Plan for fun time. That's what you wanted to hear! And it's important. My husband and I set aside $50 a month for "date night." Maybe that means we get one ridiculously extravagant date or several little dates. If we don't use all the money one month? It rolls over. This month we spent our date night money on books at Barns & Noble and Thai food. Both were well worth the money. If you have money specifically for the fun things you want to do, odds are you'll stick with that amount rather than raiding your bank account every time you need to go shopping or whatever your vice.

Give. Trust me when I say, you have too much stuff. Get rid of it. Whether by Goodwill or a garage sale, you do not need your life to be so cluttered with material things. I'm not asking you to live on $2 a day, I'm just saying that you should stop spending frivolously on things you don't need when there are people who do need what you take for granted. Spend your money that way. No one has ever said "I regret giving a child an education." Or "I wish I hadn't sent money to that family so they could purchase a goat and create an income." Or "I hate the fact that I helped fund a well to be built so people in that community could have good water." No one. Do your research, find a cause you can get behind, support it. Maybe it's financial, but maybe it's with your time volunteering with struggling students. It will boost your self value as well as the worth of someone else.

Some more food for thought:

I get that I am on a "save the world" kick, but bear with me, dear reader. I am perfectly aware I will never save the world, but that doesn't mean I should be content in doing nothing. It doesn't mean I can't do something. It doesn't mean I can't encourage others (you) to do something as well. This week I went for a walk in a neighborhood that has gated culdesacs and 12ft fake rock fountains outside false brick 8 bedroom homes at the suggestion of a friend. Tell me the person living inside that home deserves those things while children die of HIV because someone else made a poor decision and the medicine is not available to them. Then tell me it's okay that we throw away (not recycle) 26 billion water bottles as a nation when our tap water is of the same or better quality while mere millions of people drink polluted water everyday and many die because of it. Tell me I deserve to have gone out for lunch today when there are children who won't eat this week.

I want to be clear that I do not believe everyone is called to live in the dirt on the worlds minimum wage. I don't even mean to guilt trip you, I really don't. I just believe so strongly in this, that we should all be equals on this earth and when there are those who have so much less than we do? We should help them. It doesn't have to be huge or life altering, but it can be. It doesn't have to rearrange your life, but it might. It can be so simple; living green or remembering to smile at everyone you see today or spending $25 one time to buy 2 chickens for a family in Southeast Asia or sponsor a child to go to school in Uganda... the possibilities are endless. Need some ideas? I've got a million. Feel free to ask.

There are plenty more ways to save money, but most of them start with scaling back from the consumer driven America we live in. Recognize your blessings and be satisfied, the first three tips are by far the most important.

Life Isn't Fair

Sometimes life is not fair. Life isn't fair for the 147 million orphans in the world today. Life isn't fair for the 12 million refugees of war torn countries. Life isn't fair for the 3 billion people who live on less than $2 a day. And those are just some big issues. Life isn't fair. There is pain, there is suffering, there is destruction, disease, loss, heartbreak, abuse, injustice - there is so much unfairness.

Life is not fair for those who cannot afford to feed their families.

As I struggle to be a better wife, a better about-to-be mom, a better daughter, a better sister, a better friend, and a better person - there are those who struggle with worse. My blessings far outweigh any injustice in my life. It has been told to me that Americans are miserable people because of one small (huge) personality flaw that we cultivate from youth - comparison. We compare ourselves with those who have more: success, wealth, beauty, money, time, passion, talent. Therefore we are nearly always unhappy because we believe that if we had what they have? That would be the ticket. And it doesn't have to be a movie star, it can be as simple as someone for a run on your street and you think to yourself, "If I looked like that." Or seeing your perfect kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom on Pinterest and imagining, "If I had that."

By American standards, my husband and I are not wealthy. We are at the bottom end of blue collar on a rich day. But I do not understand this way of thinking because we have way more than we could ever need. We buy things we absolutely do not need, like the paper towel holder and black bear soap dispenser we purchased this week. We have too much space that is not used nearly as well as it should be. Our bank account has money in it and we are never behind on a payment. How is it even possible that we are considered the poverty line?

Life is not fair for parents' who lose their children.

This weekend a heartbreaking situation arose in my community, not even in my community, it touched the life of a friend who happens to be one of the most caring human beings in the world and brought it to my community's attention. Her cousin and his wife lost their beautiful 5 month old little girl to unknown causes. Being pregnant? I did not want to hear this story. I did not want to hear about how much they loved their child, about what good parents they were, about how they rushed their sweet baby to the hospital, about how there was nothing to be done. It tore me into pieces and placed fears in my heart that are stronger than any I have ever known. I was kind of a wreck on Sunday.

But it also led me to really think about the entire situation, what would I do? How would I react? I can't imagine, but I think I would take a deep breath and scream as loud as I could. I would, of course, blame myself, insistent that I could have done something differently, better. And then I would yell at God, because it life isn't fair and it hurts. I'm sure I would shed tears, both angry and heart broken. But I hope, that I would pick up my Bible and read. Read about years in the desert, about others who lost loved ones, about suffering. I hope I would remember the people all around the world who lose their children everyday from preventable causes because they live in places where they are too poor, too filthy, too far from help. I hope I would think of the devastation that occurs all over the world by natural disaster, plague, and famine. I hope I would remember that it is okay to be hurt, angry, sad, and heartbroken. But also remember that I am not alone in my dark place, there are thousands who live here every day. Light a candle for each of those in the dark.

Life isn't fair, but it goes on. Life isn't fair, but it happens. And there are good things, such good things. And without the hard, those good things would not be as good. We would not appreciate them, we would not even see them. I am grateful for the unfairness in life because it forces me to see unfairness elsewhere and be thankful for all that I am blessed with on a regular basis.