I'm Coming Back. Ever so slowly.

I'm coming back to the blog world. Ever so slowly.

Truly, I never really left. I just walked away from this space in the hopes of redefining myself in another space. In other words... I got scared and I ran. Which I'm really quite good at it. Except I have two bum knees and can't run so fast.

After several months, God caught up with me. I rested. And now, all of a sudden, I can't shake this ever present feeling that I need to write. That even though I am busy and filled to the brim and not quite sure what is going on in my own life half of the time.... I need to write.

So here I am.

Except I'm first going to post the heartfelt posts I originally wrote on the blog I ran away to (Not Quite Qualified) and then start with some new musings and writings. GULP. I hope you'll stick around. And I hope my words will no longer stick in my throat, my heart, my stomach, really anywhere but on the pages they are meant to fill - both literally and figuratively.

A lot has changed over the past almost eight months but a lot is also the same.


I Don't Know How You Do It (originally posted on March 7, 2014) at http://notquitequalified.net

"I don't know how you do it."

Those seven words are often uttered with a mixture of awe, confusion, frustration, and slight judgement. Whether people mean for those words to come out in such a way is an entirely different matter. I can not speak for another person. I can only share how I feel on the receiving end of the words.

I'm no different than anyone else. Truly. I struggle just as much (if not more) than other people. I have my good days, and I have my bad days. There are times when I get everything done, and there are more times when it feels as though every aspect of my life is crashing down. More often than not, it feels as though my body is under water and my head is slipping beneath the waves - my arms and legs too sore and worn out from treading water for so long to be able to hold me up above the surface for even just a second more.

They say that in our weaknesses He (meaning Jesus) is strong. I can't argue against what they say because I know it to be true. But often I can't see his strength as I am too busy holding onto my own.

The thing is that I am good at balancing multiple tasks. I tend to thrive when I'm busy, overwhelmed, under pressure, and all too scattered. During the moments of silence and solitude, I struggle to get anything done. But what I'm finding now is that this thriving is slowly giving way to (what I feel is) failing.

I can't keep my head above water much longer. But I'm not so tired that I'm read to see just how strong Jesus is.

Maybe it's a woman thing. It could be a social worker thing. Or possibly a foster parent thing. Either way, I am all three.

And no, I don't know how I do it. Most days, I don't feel like I do it. And that it could be anything at all. It's parenting, it's responding to any number of crises in a reasonable amount of time, it's being married (because, yeah, I'm a wife too), it's studying or writing a paper (did I mention I'm in grad school?), it's pretending to wash, fold, and put away the neverending amounts of laundry, it's cooking a somewhat healthy dinner.

In my weakness, He is made strong. You would think I'd be about ready to fully realize the truth of that often overused statement. You would also think that my arms would be chiseled to near perfection (my thighs, stomach, and butt too) from all the treading of water. But you'd be wrong there, too.

For whatever reason, I am here in this stage of life. It's a stage of life that makes absolutely no sense. A stage of life that leaves me speechless and overwhelmed on a daily basis. A stage of life that constantly results in me whispering "oh my" and looking around in the hopes of understanding at least some of the craziness that makes up my reality.

The only thing I know is that I have been called. I have been called to the frontlines of the orphan crisis. I have been placed in the positions I hold. Even on my worst days (and those seem to be increasing in number), God has decided that I am one of the ones He has sent. And while it's more than tempting to turn around and run the other way (or to just go to Mexico and peace out with a margarita for forever), I'm staying where God has placed me and praying that He might provide me with clarity and knowledge that supersedes anything I could possibly hope to create.

God does not call the qualified. Instead, He qualifies the called. I am the ever changing proof of the truth in those statements as I am not qualified for any of the roles in my life.

Welcome to the insanity, the craziness, the neverending questions. Welcome to learning that I can't do it. Welcome to my accepting of the call in the hopes of becoming maybe the tiniest qualified.


  1. Yes love this. I feel like being a foster mama can make us feel so scared & the things we feel can feel wrong or too much, but I think we need to write & share.

    1. Thanks! I'm excited to be back. A bit nervous. Anxious to see where it's going to go. But mostly excited.



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