Torn Between


Sometimes…I never know what to expect with my wild hair 2 year old son. One minute he is clinging to my hips and the next he is flying off wanting to explore the world on his own. One minute he is sitting in my lap with his finger in his mouth and the next he is galavanting through the halls laughing as if there is not a care in the world…until he wants mom again. He wants both – security and freedom, comfort and adventure. It is as if he is torn between being one and being another.

Sometimes…I never know what to expect with my princess dress wearing 3 year old daughter. One minute she is begging (or crying) to sit in moms lap at dinner and the next minute she is getting everyone napkins and setting the table as if she is a 12 year old. One minute she is hiding behind my legs not ready to say hello to friends and the next she is walking, shoulders held high, ready to make new ones. She wants both – security and freedom, comfort and adventure. It is as if she is torn between being one and being another.

Sometimes…I never know what to expect with my wild hair and (definitely not) princess dress wearing 29 year old self. One minute I am clinging to and begging for normalcy and the next I am flying off the table with ideas that will bend and stretch me. One minute I am sitting and hiding behind my own comforts and the next I am galavanting (perhaps not that strong of a word) with shoulders held high confident and hopeful. I want both – security and freedom, comfort and adventure. It is as if I am torn between being one and being another.

But what if our security and our comforts are found in our freedom and in our adventure? I believe, wholeheartedly, that this fight between one and the other can really be one altogether.

My wild hair son and my princess dress wearing daughter can be FREE to galavant through the home or set the table, because they are confident that if they fall or if they mess up, I will be there to comfort them. They can meet new friends and run in the playground with assurance that I am there, even if from afar.

Perhaps I can even dare to dream big ideas that will bend and stretch me, that will take me from my “comforts” – for if I get tired or if I fail there is grace unending. I do not need to feel as if I am torn between being one and being another, I can be both. I can be free to venture to new heights, certain that if I fall or if I mess up my security is secure. Always.


…because the hit happens

“Part of humility means trusting God with our plans and submitting to the possibility that they will not be fulfilled. We pursue certain ends, but we can’t know the future. But part of humility also means trusting God with our plans and submitting to the possibility that they will be fulfilled in ways we cannot imagine.” – Hannah Anderson in Humble Roots


I like to think that I am a care-free, go with the flow person. I used to think I was like that. But. If you get to know me, you quickly learn that’s not the case. I am a planner. Despite my desire to not be a planner, I am a planner.

My desire to not be one is the fear that my plans will fail. My plans will not come to pass. My hopes and dreams will not happen and my pride will be crushed. If I come across as a care-free, take life as it comes person, perhaps it’d be easier to take the hit when the hit happens.

Because the hit happens.

Maybe you planned to go to a certain university, and it didn’t happen. Maybe you planned to live in a different city or land a different job. Maybe your plans were to be married. Have kids. Have many kids. Maybe your plan was to just wake up and have a day where you could accomplish everything on your to do list…but you didn’t get that last thing done. You never get that last thing done.

Because the hit happens.

Our plans may be fulfilled when we want them to. They may be fulfilled, but in a different way. They may never be fulfilled as we had hoped. But, oh our hope. Our hope is not in what WE do. Our hope is in what Christ has done. I know that sounds cheesy and cliche, but friend (self), that is where our hope lives and breathes and flourishes. That is where our hope is found.

“My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.”

May we place our hope in the truth that we have been redeemed through Christ. Let’s strip ourselves of the false hope that we put in what we can accomplish and how we can accomplish it. Let’s humble ourselves and place our hope in what is solid. When our plans do happen, we can praise God for it and when they do not, we can trust and praise God for what is to come.

*Note. I write this to remind me and encourage me. I know this hard to do. Let’s be real. It is hard to do…but let’s aim to do it…let’s aim to trust less in ourselves and more in Him for He holds all things together.



Sweet Husband, you are so dear to me. Thank you for staying home from work yesterday so I could rest all day long. Thank you for caring for me way better than I even care for myself. You love me well. Dear Yarnyou are filling up my home. Let’s get you organized because today I will be buying more of you due to the massive sale at Michaels. E gal, dad and I are pretty darn certain you would sit in your high chair and eat food all day long if we let you. We are also pretty darn certain you are a cold weathered gal. Each time we step outside into the cool air you smile and giggle with delight. Here’s to many many memories that will form over good food and good adventures in the cool, cool air. MerkleI finally folded the clothes in the dryer after a week of them sitting in there. WOO for unwrinkled clothes and a patient, patient husband!

P.S. Summit. You are the best big brother dog Elli Mae could ever have. You don’t know it yet, but as soon as E wakes up from her nap we are surprising you with a trip to your favorite dog park. Get ready to jump in mud, swim in ponds, catch a frisbee, and get a good nice bath afterwards.



I asked Mark to take pictures of me in the Peak Designs Headbands this weekend.

What should have been an enjoyable time with my loving husband turned into an emotional “My face is OOGLY” 30 minutes.

Partially due to feeling weird taking pictures by myself and partially due to feeling insecure post-pregnancy, I was having all bits of a fit of him taking pictures of me.

How quick are we to believe the lies of Satan and this world when we believe we are not good enough, pretty enough, successful enough, skinny enough, clean enough…perfect enough?

I am so thankful of the Lord reminding me of who I am in Christ, of how I am treasured, lovely, and made perfect through His work on the cross. I am thankful for good friends who randomly tell me “Ash, you look great!” on days that I truly don’t feel great. I am thankful for friends who remind me that beauty is much more than looking “great.”

Most of all, I am thankful that I have much more to live for than looking good in cute clothes.

Holy Spirit, remind me of that truth. 

Praying for you to be reminded of that today as well.

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well” -Psalm 139:14


P.S. Go check out the new fall colors and buy a headband today @ Peak Designs.



Babe, our skype conversations during the day are perhaps one of my favorite moments. Especially when they involve a massive amount of emoticons. Elli Mae, you are almost 6 months old and as cute as can be….the drool, spit up, and smelly toots are all trumped by that sweet smile of yours. River House,  you are always a nice breath of fresh air. Many thanks to the in-laws who let us use it for hammock laying, river floating, and spending time away from a city. Magnolia, today I dusted you off and sewed something for the first time in 10 months. I missed you…two loud cheers for E having new bandana bibs to look stylish and keep her face clean at the same time. & to E’s Daddy, thanks for being humble enough to ask for prayer, silly enough to sing a song, stern enough to tell Summit to stop jumping, and tender enough to rock our baby gal to sleep. You are loved.


It’s been a while, friends.

Life gets busy.

Hope the end of summer has treated you well. I know it’s temping to jump straight into pumpkins and leaves falling off of trees, but lets enjoy these last days of fresh berries and summer, yah? I’m sure going to try.



Hubs, this morning you asked me if I would make you a sandwich and I replied with a pretty whiney “Really?! I’m still in bed.” I’m sorry for not serving you and acting more like a baby than our daughter sometimes. Thank you for loving me still and happily making your own sandwich this morning. White Linen Night, we can’t wait to partake…we just have to decide if we will rock the Bumbleride or the Ergo. Lawrence Street, thank you for loving me and my little one well. I love how I can send out a “Can someone watch E while I go to the doctor?” message and instantly get replies…despite the fact that ya’ll live some busy lives. Summit Daddy, that pup adores you…more than bones, swimming in the river, playing frisbee, and digging in the trash can…and I adore you even more.


Woo for Thursday, ya’ll…and it’s the first day of August.




Other Half, it’s been almost a week of not waking up to you next to me each day. Can’t wait till Saturday morning and for that to happen again. Convoswitha2yearold, I watched every single one of your episodes this morning. Thanks for making me laugh. A lot. Summit Dog, every time you go in to Nana & Papa’s yard you decide that getting in the pool is a good plan. I am so glad you know how to swim, but could you please take a break from being wet ALL the time? E, you rock that ponytail. Pops, in the last month you have been to Japan and London and you are going back to Tokyo again soon. Pack me in your suitcase, please? Husband, you’ve gone climbing almost every night since E and I have been gone. Can’t wait to see how strong those forearms are when I see you…and maybe that’ll motivate us to get that boulder wall up sooner.

Happy Thursday, friends!

Thursday is Mark’s favorite day of the week (not including weekends!) because it’s one day closer to Friday. My favorite day is Friday. While I think my favorite day makes more sense, I can’t help but love Thursdays too…because it means only one day till Friday 🙂