Origin Stories

Recently my 6 year old son has been completely immersed in Marvel’s Avengers, and from them I have learned that every super hero has an origin story. I wouldn’t call myself a hero but I DO want to share my story.

I was 22, finally emerging as a confident young woman chasing all the adventures the Californian mountains had to offer. A fresh graduate of ministry school and glowing with dreams of how I would change the world for God’s Kingdom. Or maybe the glow is because I was pregnant. Single. or mostly single anyway. I was caught in a toxic relationship riddled with substance abuse, manipulation, and hurt, that seemed impossible to get out of. I was confused, ashamed and terrified. I was broken-hearted over letting go of the life I had been working so hard to grow into, and also in shambles knowing that ship had sailed long ago. I was embraced with love and indescribable support from the church from whose ministry school I had just graduated, though no one even knew I was in any kind of relationship. Still, a complete mess, I needed to move in with family.

After moving home to Michigan, having my precious son, and working hard to process not only the falling out of the toxic relationship, but also the inter-state family court systems and the hormones of postpartum I felt like I was loosing myself completely. So many new parents, arguable every new parent, goes through some form is massive identity shift. Suddenly life isn’t about your career, favorite hobbies, or friends but is filled with diaper changes, soothing techniques and all kinds of un-mentionable healing. I spent the better part of 3 years wrapped around my boy, delving deeply into learning his love language and his developmental stages, arranging work and childcare that would allow me to still be very present despite the single parent-hood, investing my time and energy into him and what is best for him, reading scientific studies on children. I considered dating but put it off because I couldn’t invest the time in figuring out how to do that in a way that would benefit my son. Plus I hated the small talk, “What do you like to do with your free time?” Then it hit me, slowly at first because I wanted to deny it, but the realization grew deeper and more real quite quickly that I had completely lost my identity outside of mother-hood. It felt, I would imagine, quite similar to a mid-life crisis. What DID I like to do with my free time? Do I actually have any hobbies anymore? All I ever wanted to do was spend time with my boy. My soul was grieved.

Before my little boy had turned 3 I started dating the most wonderful man. It turns out I didn’t need to know exactly how to date, because Alex was so intentional to build a friendship with me and the pressure was taken off my shoulders. Our story is one I love to tell but I would to it an injustice to try to fit it in here. We were married a few months after my boys’ 4th birthday and building a life together felt so wonderful! I didn’t have to figure out myself anymore because we were figuring ourselves out together. Let me be clear, I thought I didn’t have to find my own hobbies because I could just absorb Alex’s. Truth is that’s not healthy at all. A sense of identity is of foundational importance to every healthy relationship, whether a marriage, parent-child, or friend. Now I genuinely love the things we did together, but it wasn’t long before I began to feel lost again. What did I bring to the table? I still struggled to tell my new husband what I even wanted to do on a date because I didn’t still didn’t really know who I was. After our honeymoon I lost my job, one of the only places I felt I had a unique identity. Alex asked me, “Morgan, what do you WANT to do?” A question meant to propel me in the direction of my…undefined, ambiguous, abstract….dreams. The weight of “Who am I?” was crippling. With Alex’s unwavering support I took time and landed myself in a birth doula training course, followed shortly by a job opportunity in the mother-baby unit of a hospital, as a nurse assistant. I fell in love with the birthing world, with new babies, mothers, fathers, with supporting the single parent, the mom who’s baby received a fear-filled diagnosis, the father anxiously pacing the halls waiting for his family to come out of the OR, the shining faces of grandparents pushing through the elevator doors that always opened too slowly. I fell in love with the power a woman finds when she works with incredible anticipation and agony for this tiny love to finally make their arrival.

A few months before our second anniversary Alex and I welcomed another darling, baby boy into the world. It was quite a dramatic event, but again I’ll do that story justice another time. Now, I had trained as a doula, read countless books on post-partum, read research studies and learned everything I could from the medical team at the hospital where I worked. Alex and I took an 8 week course on natural childbirth, breastfeeding and post-partum.  I felt so educated and was so excited for the sweet season of newborn snuggles and nursing, but somehow it all felt very similar to the season after my first son was born. Everything was different, but again, my whole life seemed full of diaper changes, soothing techniques and again, that healing of the un-mentionable’s. Have I really come nowhere, in 6 years of life have I not picked up a single hobby? No, my friends, that was not the case at all.

It was a conversation with my mom who simply commented on the way I answered her call, “Gosh Morgan, motherhood just seems to suit you so well.” It caught me off guard at first because my mind had just been whirling with some problem solving involving diaper blow outs in the grocery store, where I ran into an old friend with whom I desperately wanted to stay connected, over a baby screaming in hunger when I realized I had gotten to the check-out and my wallet was still in the car. All at the same time. geesh. I am an external processor and my mom is a pretty brilliant woman so conversations with her often lend themselves to some great realizations. That’s when the magic happened. I realized, I hadn’t lost myself to motherhood but in fact had discovered who I had been looking for all along.

I find great joy in encouraging others, in researching and teaching, in relationships and listening. I love offering support and am charged-up when I see them accomplish or achieve that thing they wanted so badly. Empowerment, compassion, conviction, empathy, creativity. These things describe me and it just so happens that they also make me a great doula. I love being a mom and the journey of immersing myself so completely in it may have seemed, for so long, to be a story of loosing myself. It turns out, this was all a story of self-discovery.

Now, I don’t consider myself a hero and I wouldn’t dare wear a cape to support a birth, but I do think it’s pretty darn cool to have such a redemptive origin story. This is how I became, “Morgan Heckaman: Birth Doula”

Why Evangelize?

Featured Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

I listen to wisdom pour from the mouths of those with far more to share than me, constantly. Sometimes I listen and I don’t think anything comes of it. My wheels hardly spin around the idea, and sometimes I am so uninspired that I stop listening while the message keeps playing. Then, sometimes, it grabs me. Something said in the first 30 second pulls me in and I begin loosing touch with the things I can feel in my physical presence because what I am listening to is far more real than anything else in the world.

One concept that held me so tightly; God’s sovereignty and evangelism. In listening to a teaching from the book of John, I learned that God hardened the hearts of some Israelites. His chosen people. He chose them, but also hardened their hearts so they would not accept Jesus as God in that moment. I listened and recalled then, how God hardened Pharaohs heart in Exodus. In Isaiah “He blinded their eyes so they would not see Him.” Who is this God, who would make a space between humanity and himself? It’s so far from the God I thought I knew. The idea was further developed. “The nations rejection of the Messiah was an outcome produced by the will of God.” It came to be this way because if they had all heard, they would have believed (duh! isn’t that the point?) and if they believed God would have been obligated to make good on his word to heal them then and there, and essentially the Kingdom of Heaven would have come before the gospel could reach the gentiles. “This is good and pleases God our savior, who wants all people to be saved…”  (1 Timothy 2:3-4) He wanted all of humanity and made His chosen people wait, by deafening their ears for a time, so that the message could reach the rest of the world before His Kingdom would be established on earth.

(This is the study I am referencing, specifically lesson 12. I encourage you to listen to all of them. It’s an in depth look at the full gospel of John and really full of amazing insight.)

Whoah. What? So also this brings up the question of sovereignty. If God would harden their hearts, why would we evangelize? What role do we even play? If God has already pre-destined His chosen people, why do we share God at all? He can do it without us. He literally doesn’t need us.

I’m going to change the question a little, to make a point.
(in a tone of distaste)
Why would we even evangelize?  implies that there’s no real reason.
(in an inquisitive tone)
Why, what is our motivation, for evangelism? – suggesting we simply can’t see the reason, yet.

Let me pose one last question. What if it has nothing to do with someone’s conversion? What if the motivation wasn’t to see someone become a Christian? What if the motivation, instead, was purely to live more like Jesus. Regardless of how you feel about the theology of evangelism and it’s potential pointlessness, we are all charged with living like Christ.

(for the record I also believe we are to care for the eternal souls of all, but that’s a different point, for another day)

Ephesians 5:2, Romans 6:4, Colossians 2:20 All speak of ways we can live more like Christ. We have “WWJD?” bracelets to remind us to live more like Christ.
“I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

Jesus came to bring us the Kingdom of God, so (maybe over-) simplified, our life mission is to become more like Christ, in bringing the Kingdom of God by showing people the ONE source of life abundant. An abundance which reaches beyond death! If Christ is our example and our only motivation is to become more like Christ, no matter the outcome of any one interaction, we will evangelize, we will live from love, we will show kindness to everyone we meet and if we REALLY knew the impact of the gospel, let it wash over the depths of our disbelief, we would be so overjoyed about what it means that we couldn’t be silent!

The God who placed the stars int the sky, put the waves into motion, who stacked the mountains beyond the cloud, who designs every snowflake, He looked at it all and said it was good, but when that same God looked at us, humans, He called us “VERY good”! (emphasis added) We are his desire! To live with us! WHAT?! who am I that the Lord of all creation wants ME? But he does. Does that not break open your deepest self?

It’s been years since I asked someone in public if I could pray for them.
A man was clearly in great discomfort and moved slowly, deliberately but still uncontrolled in some ways, by weakness and pain.

“Excuse me sir, I can’t help but notice the discomfort you must be in. I believe in a God who wants to heal you. Can I pray for you?”
-yes, he said.
“Can I pray for you right now?”
-yes, again, he said.
“can I place my hand on your leg?” (One place of clear discomfort)
-Yes.

His wife thanked me before we parted ways.

I have no idea where their faith is, but I know that The Lord found joy in being welcomed into that place. He loves being asked to heal pain. He is pleased that for just a moment, we asked for it to be “on earth, as it is in Heaven” Is that not the charge of all Christian life?

We Evangelize by showing love, sharing the gospel story, by being kind, by praying for one another, sometimes we are overt and other times we are covert. Evangelism looks different every day and isn’t always a sign on the corner shouting “JESUS LOVES YOU!”

He sees you,
He wants you,
He loves you.
He sees them,
He wan’s them,
He loves them.

Since we know, how can we not share?
If it is not your greatest joy to boast about the stories and great works God has done in you life, you DO NOT fully grasp the darkness from which you have been saved.

Lost

If you’re reading this, you’re likely aware that I publish posts super sporadically. I write just about as consistently. I have 16 drafts and they’re as good as chicken scratch in a journal, which more accurately describes the way I use my blog, like a private journal that SOMETIMES has something worth sharing.

This morning I was taking my son to school, and we stopped for a coffee date. It was one of my favorite things my mom did with my sisters and I when we were younger and I want to set aside special time with him, during the busy chaos of the week, too. In that time, something passed through my brain that I thought was worthy of writing about. Whether I would post it or not was to be decided but I knew it was important enough to write on my  extensive “To Do” list for today. It was a valuable enough thought I didn’t want to forget to write about it. I stuffed my list in my pocket and we headed for school.

After dropping my boy off, watching him hold a friends hand as they walked to class together, I got in the car to head back for the coffee shop where I would tackle the first half of my list, the things that needed a computer. Still parked at the school, I picked up my phone to text my sister about our plans for the evening and somehow got distracted by another notification that popped up. Then in the black hole of technology, I looked up and it was ten minutes later. I exhaled deeply, hearing something deep down say, “don’t get lost in this, remember that thing you were going to write about.” I shrugged off the feeling and set my focus on getting there and digging in. The coffee shop was only 5 miles away, surely I could focus for 5 miles.

I was wrong, that little voice was right. I looked at my list and it says, “blog.” As if that were anywhere near detailed enough to remind me what I was so moved by this morning.

Was it really so moving of a thought, if it could fall away so easily? Are technology and distraction so hemmed into my personal culture (yours, too?) that I loose this depth of a thought? How often does this actually happen to me? More often than I would like to admit. I’m convicted. Maybe I’m just venting my frustration with myself, but hopefully this can serve as a cautionary tale to you too.

Everything in this world, and things beyond this world, are vying for our attention. Your attention will become affection. I am stunned at how such a little decision, how I spent ten  minutes this morning, threw off what was super impactful for me this morning. The feeling in my spirit was to write about it, maybe for cathartic reasons, but maybe someone needed to read what I was thinking? Where I spend my time, thoughts and affection impact far more people than just me.

Self-discipline is hard, focus is hard, selfishness is easy, distraction is easy, All of it is bigger than just us.

Lesson learned: Write a more detailed “ToDo” list when appropriate, keep my spirit focused, turn the dang phone off.

This New Season

When your world gets shaken, and you feel unstable, get so close to God that you can actually “fear not.” Identify your strengths and resources, honor their boundaries but be shameless in accepting their help. Discover what makes you feel fully alive and actively pursue your passions. Consider the costs of each step toward them, as well as the cost of stagnancy. Go feeling empowered, and if you lose that feeling of empowerment, go back to the beginning and meditate on your strength and who you were designed to be. We were always meant to do this life in community.

FIRED
For the past few years I’ve worked in or with dental offices as part of, and supporting the reception team. I’ve held pretty dynamic roles and have enjoyed the nature of the work, most days. At the most recent office, without getting in to the nitty gritty, I was FIRED. Ouch. It was such a blow to my ego. I had been casually looking for other opportunities, and had even interviewed at a different dental office before being fired, so losing that specific role didn’t sting, but I had never been fired before and that was a pill to swallow. I woke up the next day and when my alarm went off, I didn’t get out of bed as quickly as usual. I was greeted not by the beginning of another busy day, but a blaring and somewhat disabling question. What do I do? Most mornings were routine, my new husband and I had just established a rhythm that was working for us, and the closer we stuck to it the smoother the mornings would be. But now, literally every step was questionable. I didn’t have to get up early, because there was no timeline. In fact I could let our little boy sleep in because he didn’t actually have to go to preschool since I didn’t have anywhere to be… Well, Sterling went to preschool and we kept things as routine as possible. Regardless of the conclusions we came to, you can see how a day that began without explicit purpose also began the unraveling of my mind.  I remembered five days previously, a small group of people at my church prayed for me and one person specifically encouraged me. She felt God prompting her to tell me, “Do NOT worry about how you will transition from this season to the next.” The only thing she knew about me was my name. This encouragement was deep at face value but came also with a sense that God really saw me, heard my prayers, knew my concerns and most of all He cared about all of that. This is an intimacy I would get fired every day for, to know God’s closeness like this.

WHAT DO I WANT TO DO?
I realized quickly during that first day at home, that I had a few seriously basic questions to answer. Primarily, I had to answer Alex’s question, “What do you want to do?”

Hold on, what?
What do you mean “want” to do? Dental reception… er, right?

If you know my story, you probably know it in part so, let me string a little bit of it together for you. After high school, I moved out to California and worked in Yosemite National Park. (Glorious place, go!) When you work there, you apply to one company who staffs the entire park. You get what you get, and take the job you’re given. After that I traveled a lot, and had to work when I could, at what ever job was available, in order to support my gypsy lifestyle. Shortly thereafter I settled in to a mountain town for a few years and loved working in a coffee shop, then an espresso bar. With the news that I would be expecting a child, I figured I would need my parents support so I moved back to Michigan. There again, I took what ever work I could find. For years, as a single mom, I took ALL the work I could find. Retail, service, direct sales, corporate, childcare, college. I tried everything and it was always about necessity, the circumstances, and supporting myself and this sweet little babe. Three years in to single-parenthood I got the best opportunity I had come by, and that’s how I began in dentistry. Even then it was a new field that I could grow  in passion for, but taking the job was still about my best opportunity until I found something better, as if I could grapple up some income ladder by hoping from one industry to the next.  Things began to change when I met, my now husband, Alex. My previous work life has always been, without exception, dictated by necessity. This question of “what do I want to do?” still felt as abstract today as it did when I was asked as a kindergartener. I may be 27 years old, but I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

Finally, I have found myself in a place where I can actually pursue what I want do to, not what I have to do, and it has taken a serious shift of mind to embrace that. I had to wrap my head around the fact that this short season of proactive pursual, while unemployed, does not mean near instant poverty for my family. Marriage is a lot of things, and in this moment its the kind of blessing that supports me in finding where I thrive. I am free from the oppression of necessity and abound in opportunity to grow in who I am! I am SO thankful for my husband and his selflessness to give me this time of reflection, instead of asking me to “just take anything and we’ll figure the rest out later.” Praise The Lord for a husband who’s concern is me living in to my original design, and passion, not just for a paycheck.

PASSION
It took a lot of clearing my mind, which came with processing and purging the deep hurts of being fired. That nitty-gritty part which is unnecessary to share still left me feeling discriminated, hated, unworthy, ruined for future hire and angry. I was very angry about the grounds for my dismissal and these are not feelings you can make clear decisions through. Once I had processed a little and prayed a lot, some things began coming together, and finally clicked after a dream one night.

As I slept, I dreamt that I was on horseback, in a circle arena. I was on a dependable, but small red quarter horse. I liked him just fine but didn’t feel attached. Then walked by a huge and breathtakingly beautiful black and white paint horse, led by a rough, broad shouldered, burly man. He walked this majestic animal over to a stall and began brushing him in preparation for a saddle. I was instantly connected to the horse and knew he was meant for me, but also that it was not the right time. God speaks in a lot of ways, and I have learned (and love) that he often speaks to me in dreams, like these. Now horses in dreams, usually mean passion, drive and power. I heard God say in this dream that He is guiding my passions, and “saddling up” while I sharpen my skills on a smaller animal. Soon, it’ll be time to switch horses and get on to those big beautiful passions I want to chase after, but for now, I am to wait.

Alex and I married in October, but delayed our honeymoon to January, because Michigan is a whole lot colder then, and Costa Rica would still be HOT. Our honeymoon was full of surfing, yoga, jungle driving and pondering what we are most passionate about while we swung in hammocks and drank from fresh coconuts. It was four days after our return from CR that I was fired, so thankfully I had fresh grasp of these soul searching times. While overseas I was reading “Waking The Dead” by John Eldridge. He takes a whole book to expound on the quote by St. Irenaeus, “The glory of God is man fully alive.” I found I became most fully alive when I was empowering other people. I’ve often been the friend that others confide in, think out-loud to, ask for advice, and come to with heavy hearts. I used to think I needed to solve their problems for them, but it turns out that even when I don’t, but people still walk away from our time together feeling encouraged, empowered, or at least less defeated I feel full. Not fulfilled, but full of energy and excited to see what they will do! Life isn’t about chasing an emotional high, but in healthy situations, it’s a good indication you’re operating in a place of passion. We all have different gifts, and one of mine is to be an encourager. I was a terrible cheerleader for those three weeks in 6th grade, but when it comes to personal matters I make a solid hype girl!

NOW WHAT?
Okay so the goal is to empower people, but you can do that anywhere. Arguably, you should do that no matter where you work. So what now? I pondered on my life experiences, and what I love doing, and here’s where I’ve arrived. I’m going to develop myself into a professional encourager. I am going to teach yoga, and be a doula, encouraging and supporting women, their partners, and their babies. I’ll offer to share my love for, and the power in, essential oils and truly nutritious foods. I want to connect people, so we can have this community we’ve been designed to live in. If I end up totally nerding out, I’ll even start sharing my passion for this learning I’ve just begun about Natural Family Planing and avoiding pregnancy without harmful contraceptives.

To be perfectly honest, it’s been weeks since I’ve made these decisions and progress is slow despite momentum building. I have applied for jobs that will cary me through the developmental season of  getting proper training and certifications for these things I am so passionate about, but now comes a lesson in patience and persistence. Particularly persistence of faith to “fear not” even when the circumstances I think I see working out, begin to change. I can see it coming like a tidal wave, and I’m a dreading it a little, because these things take time. I have never been gifted in patience.

When your world gets shaken, and you feel unstable, get so close to God that you can actually “fear not.” Identify your strengths and resources, honor their boundaries but be shameless in accepting their help. Discover what makes you feel fully alive and actively pursue your passions. Consider the costs of each step toward them, as well as the cost of stagnancy. Go feeling empowered, and if you lose that feeling of empowerment, go back to the beginning and meditate on your strength and who you were designed to be. We were always meant to do this life in community.

Already Won

Victories you’ve achieved are ones you live from, and can share with others.
Sharing testimonies increases faith, so sometimes it’s okay to just pray for yourself and ask for a victory. Maybe the lesson you’re supposed to learn is not HOW to do something better except to lean on God, and ask for a win so you can live from victory instead of for it. It’s day’s exactly like this one for which I got my arm tattoo that says, “Already won.” It’s hard to remember that we live from the victory which has already been won on the cross, instead of always striving for survival. I have to believe that Jesus has overcome the world because that’s what he said and I can’t afford to believe differently than he said, but there’s a difference in believing and knowing. I’ve learned this to be one of my greatest battles in life. I am quick to know with my mind. It makes sense so I believe it but how much do I , really? When I’m faced with a direct challenge to what God has said, how far can I go before I stop believing? When do I lose my peace? When do my emotions seem to become more powerful than the solid truth that is God’s unfailing word?

Today was such a test. I write this speaking from cerebral faith and belief, but with a broken heart and hoping to see God move this mountain. I know what he’s said, but I may have reached the end of my faith for today. Perhaps that’s why it’s called a gift of faith. Because when it makes sense it’s not hard to believe, but when you’re challenged and it DOESN’T make sense it is still no less true. It’s just harder to keep believing. That deep breath of peace, the one you have when it makes no sense but you’ve given up working it over in your mind or trying to make sense of it because you just feel like it’s going to be okay. Is that the gift of faith?

I took my car into the shop for some well overdue repairs. My timing belts (yes, two in a Subaru) needed to be replaced six months ago. For the mechanics reading this, my tension pulley was broken so it had essentially been rubbed flat on one side and was tearing through the ribs like a hungry man fresh off a deserted island. I knew it would be a couple hundred dollars, but after keeping an eye on the damage for a few months I finally decided it could wait no longer. Turned out to need much more work than I knew and today was a three hundred dollar bill, with an additional $5,000 prognosis. Let me also acknowledge that this is entirely a first world problem! I get it, I have a car and at that one worth putting money into keeping. but for a single mom, or anyone for that matter, just trying to figure out how to keep putting one foot in front of the other, this is kind of a devastating blow. I sat in the mechanics office working  (praise the Lord I can bring work with me!) frantically scribbling down my budget, while the office manager kept giving me updates on what they found, like a scrub nurse in the ER. I kept re-working it to accommodate the days repair, feeling less and less hopeful each time.

So I ask myself again, how much do I really believe in God’s goodness? I drove home with my most urgent needs covered, but still a heavy heart, resolute to keep my head up. my resolution failed me. I had found the end of my confidence “of this; That I will see the goodness of the Lord in the lad of the living.” Psalm 27:13. Good thing God can handle our doubt. I believe in my head that He is good and will take care of my every need, but I can’t help feeling doubt in my heart. My circumstances cast such a heavy shadow.

I’ll be wrestling this for a while I’m sure. All I know to do is keep reminding myself that feelings are temporary, so is my car and my circumstances. God’s faithfulness is eternal and unwavering no matter how I feel. And it’s okay to feel bad about it for a while. Maybe this will be one more testimony I can stand on, and share with others in the future, that they may have more faith too. In the mean time I’ll do my best to worship who I know God is, and use it as my weapons of war agains doubt and fear.

Fear And Love

I am convinced that my un-welcomed fears have made far too many decisions for me. Reflecting on the emotional rollercoaster that has been this most stable and wholly loving relationship I’ve ever been in has made so clear what I had been lacking in the past.

Silly thing, but listening to a One Direction song it all came to mind in a single second.
“She told me in the morning she don’t feel the same about us in her bones”

Wait, really? The implication is that a relationship is ending because of a feeling. It hit me hard, because this is such a prolific rudder in modern society. I find it immature and stupid, and then realize it’s been such a theme in my life before. Sparing the gruesome details, every romantic relationship I have been in has ended because of either being cheated on, his leaving because I wouldn’t have sex with him, or because he simply lost interest and “ghosted.” All of those things suck, but worse than that is way it all happened. Without warning. Every single time, I would have a conversation with him and share my thoughts and feelings, ask where he stood and try to get on the same page. We would talk, he would kiss me, look in my eyes and assure me that we were in a great place and then head home. The very next day there would be a confession of cheating, a break up text, or that would have simply been the very last time I heard from him. The worst part truly was being lied to so many times. I became jaded.

Now, here I am in this most wonderful relationship with an incredible man. He love the lord, loves me, loves my son, is honest to a fault, and from day one has been perfectly transparent with me about what he wants and how he feels. I spent the first few months waiting for the other shoe to drop. The part where he disappears, or doesn’t keep his word; that’s been my consistent experience in the past. It’s a challenging thing to break through my jaded, insecure heart and keep sharing my love as much as I feel. I’ve been so  meticulous to guard my heart, which I think is important but it’s also of foundational importance to remind myself that I can trust him. If I had let my feelings make decisions for me I would have, in my jaded guarded heart, let my unfounded fear of him turning out not to be a man of character, cause me to pull away. I would have made my goal distance. I would have begun adding brick and mortar atop the tower that already wrapped around my heart. I would have “felt different about us in my bones” and walked away just to avoid heartbreak again. I would have chosen fear. Instead, he stood there, leaning on the wall I had built and looked into my eyes, waiting, saying everything without a word. It’s a good thing he’s such a strong climber, and could withstand those new layers I had frantically added while I let my fear motivate me. He just keeps stepping up, showing up, and patiently letting me learn that I can trust his integrity.

Finding myself here, I have a clear mind to share what I think love is. Love is a choice, it is a commitment, a code of ethics, a glue and finally a feeling. Let your feelings serve you, but do not let them lead you. Every morning you have to wake up and choose to continue pursuing connection with that which you love, whether it is a person, a business pursuit, or a faith; you still have to intentionally choose love every day. Some day’s you feel awful, whether physically or emotionally,  and you still have a choice. In this way, love is a commitment. You have to give yourself to it, or them, even when you don’t feel like it. Love, as a choice stewarded well and a commitment, that kept, will hold together even the most god-forsaken shipwreck. I am constantly challenged to choose love over fear, but I believe it to be me the most valuable battle to take on.

Settling In.

Ah, it feels like home. The Christmas tree was the first to go up, the beds are made and the fire has been roaring. Somehow, I’ve been able to keep the house mostly tidy, but I think I’m attributing that to the fact that we’ve spent less than half of our waking hours IN the house. I am so happy to be settling in to our farm house, and farm life, but let me suggest that moving the week before Christmas is not the best plan. In our case, it was mostly unavoidable. Lease terms and home rental legalities reigned in our decisions, but honestly?….

Sparing the rant, the past two weeks have been fueled by coffee and support from the incredible people in my life, including Sterling, my threenager. Yes, he has had his moments and napping has been sparse but I’m genuinely impressed with how well he has handled this extreme change in life style, and how much he is thriving! I shouldn’t be so surprised, but it’s been a joy watching him love this new season of life as much as I do.

We’ve overcome impressively low temperatures and serious snowfall on moving day, maintaining a 40 hour work/preschool week while adding in about half of our committed farm chores, last minute Christmas shopping and gift crafting, Staying up until all hours of the morning to finish the days’s “to-do” list, all while navigating life in a new town. It’s been awesome to see what I am capable of in an adaptive capacity, and has revealed strength in an area I should have been expecting to be challenged. I’ve learned a lot about myself, and its only been 12 days.

Helping Ms. Beckie collect eggs

The end of December is a naturally reflective time of year. I do my best to live a thankful life and have found this wild, busy season to still be overwhelmed with things, moments, and people to be thankful for. In this moment I am incredibly thankful for learning to go to bed even if I haven’t put that rewarding check mark next to every task on my list for the day. Personal fact, I have a hard time going to sleep before tidying my room. Most nights, if I haven’t already, I’ll even make my bed before crawling in. I’m not so uptight about everything, but one of my quirks is obsessively tidying my room. I’ve even come to appreciate letting go of that.

Peacocks on the roof.

In learning to stretch my adaptability, I’ve discovered a deeper thankfulness for the serenity prayer, and applying it a little more practically (as opposed to theoretically) to my life. Parenthood, and adulthood alike, demand people take more responsibility in life and I think I’ve been mistaking that as demand to be in control. I do not have control, nor do I need to take control of many aspects of life. I believe that to be a vital differentiation. Control puts the outcome of all things on your shoulders while responsibility only requires you to manage how you respond to the world and events around you. Many things are outside my control, but I can take responsibility for how I respond to those things and stop holding myself accountable to the things in which I have no sway anyway.

Danny Silk speaks about relationships in his teaching called Loving On Purpose and it struck me when he said, in regards to a parent responding harshly to a child’s poor choice,

” you say, “I do this because I love you” but that’s not true. You’re doing it because you want to control me.”

Two days later, I should have remembered this a little better, but thankfully I have someone I love to gently remind me.

Perhaps his favorite, the baby chicks.

Sterling was eating cereal for a quick snack before a VERY late attempt at a nap. I was exhausted and wanted a nap myself. I sat on the couch while he finished up and as his hunger was quickly appeased he turned into his over-tired-silly-self. He started shoving his whole face into the bowl and looking up at Alex and I with the drippiest milk goatee and cheerio ‘stache I have EVER seen…. The grin on his face was adorable but my exhaustion lead me to tired-plea with him to stop goofing around, making a mess, and just eat. Without missing a beat Alex leans over and kindly reminds me to let him be 3.

I supposed in this situation I could have (and would have) tried to control Sterling, and hurry him off to a nap. I guarantee it would have led to a stressful fight toward the bed and absolutely no nap. Instead, we laughed at his silly personality, celebrated his goofiness and then he bounced off to a brief nap. I had no business controlling him, nor do I want to teach him that he should be controlled. I did take responsibility for how I responded, and turns out, we all had a better day for it. I wanted a peaceful surrounding, and went about it by trying to control my son, when instead I was much more successful by instead taking responsibility for my reaction, my inside world.

“If you put a pauper in a palace he will turn the palace into a prison. If you put a prince in into a prison he will turn the prison into a palace. That’s the story of Joseph. You always reproduce the environment around that you cultivate within you. ”
– Kris Vallotton

There is so much more to that quote, but for now, I’ll leave it at this.

Farm Life, Day One.

If you would have told me, six months ago today, that before Christmas I would be living on a 300 acre farm in a city an hour away from where I was living at the time,  I probably would have looked at you like you were crazy and asked what phsychadelics you ate for breakfast. These past six months have been host to some of the most wonderful, fast paced, intentional, and unforeseen events of my life. I truly wish I had done a better job of keeping this little journal updated as the story unfolded so far, but all the same, I have a feeling that the best is yet to come. I’ve gone from mountain-mom-stuck-in-the-city, to farm-living, remote-workin’ mamma. Here’s our story, starting now.

December 16th was the official move in day, despite having moved our things to the farm a week prior. Sterling and I arrived Friday evening, just in time to have dinner and visit with my boyfriend, Alex, and his family, before Grammy left to spend some of the winter in California. We settled in and built a fire that evening, enjoying its warmth in the glow of the christmas tree lights. The rest of the weekend followed suit, learning what my beginning responsibilities on the farm would be, continuing the seemingly unending project of unpacking box after box, and learning how to most efficiently heat the house with a wood burning stove. The stove is not a new skill for me, but one that absolutely needs sharpening. The weather has been merciless. Our first four days here have been sub-freezing temperatures without breaking. It has been such a lovely change of pace to wake up to the lowing of 60 cattle at pasture out our door, as opposed to the whistle and rattle of trains and cars passing all night long.

Playing in one of the cattle pastures

I spent most of Monday feeling like I was living a dream, working my professional life, as well as interacting with the animals that keep my family fed and healthy. I took my darling boy to his first day at his new preschool, and he ran off joyfully after kissing me goodbye. Any parent can attest to the reassurance of their child’s joyful departure, especially in a new place. After arriving back at the farm, I set up my desk and “went to work” for the dental practices, beginning my day job. Between responsibilities for work, I got to get down to brass tacks washing basket after basket of eggs and cleaning the community rooms, kitchen and store. This level of multitasking was challenging, to say the least, and will take some serious getting used to. admittedly, I may have been slightly distracted by the deep feeling of value in the work my hands were doing. Selfish, maybe, but the emotional high of feeling like your work is deeply valuable makes it easier to be consistently joyful.

The first of many baskets of eggs

Let me tell you the highlights of this farm where we now live and work. Lake Village Farm is over 300 acres, and is a non-profit organization prioritizing the preservation of the land and livestock farming practices that focuses on the animals quality of life. For those of you that know me personally, are you thinking, “This is SO Morgan!” yet? There is also a huge priority placed on education and helping the community get back in touch with where exactly our food comes from.(p.s. it’s not It shouldn’t be a factory!) Lake Village is home to at least 15 other families who actively contribute to the daily running of the farm, some of which have been here for over 15 years. The farm borders a lake, and is one of the most diverse and lively landscapes I’ve had the blessing of enjoying. This is the beginning of something new and beautiful, and I can not wait to keep sharing my crash course in the agricultural lifestyle.

I live an incredible life, and the gift of the lifestyle I was invited into is the best thing I never would have asked for this holiday season. Thank you Lord, for knowing me better than I know myself, and giving me more than I feel I deserve. What a gracious God, to love me this lavishly.

Grown-up/Toddler Translations

Children are notorious for hearing things differently than we’ve actually said, and for perceiving reality as different than it is. Last week my three year old son came timidly out of the bedroom a mere fifteen minutes after I had finished singing him a lullaby, explaining that he had slept and was ready to play. We spent the next fifteen arguing about whether he had actually slept of not. “I know that you didn’t sleep, now it’s time to go take a nap!” I would repeat. It was important to me that he didn’t think he could get away with lying to me. Quite instantly, it hit my like a load of bricks as I slowed down to actually hear his plea. I heard him to understand, instead of listening just to respond. There was genuine belief in his words. His expression was desperate and I could see that he just wanted me to believe him. He truly believed he had slept, and our conversation (for him) was not about the nap, but was about hoping I would trust him. Now my insistence that I knew he was lying was teaching him that I don’t trust his word; that I think he’s a liar. Suddenly that afternoon nap was much less important than laying a foundation of trust in my relationship with him. Our conversation quickly changed, “are you sure you napped?” I asked through squinted eyes. His simple response was heavy with relief, “yes.”
“and you feel, rested and ready for this afternoons adventures?”
His response became slightly more energetic while I could see he was still leery of getting his hopes up, “yes!”
“Okay, then lets go turn off your sounds.”
Our tiny ritual which seals the deal of sleep time being over. Turning off the white noise machine.

In the past month we have moved, changed daycare/babysitter plans three times, lived temporarily at my moms house, and have otherwise been incredibly busy and detached. It’s been a rough transition for both of us, but of all things, valuing communication has eased the season more than I ever imagined. It’s no secret that adults struggle to communicate efficiently and a well known fact that children often gesture and grunt instead of actually talking. It’s also well known that only 20% of communication is actually words. listening for that other 80% of communication destroys frustration and has overall significantly improved my relationships on every level.

AsYou…

There is a contingency in this. I read the words, ” …as you…” and it was if my inner narrator enunciated them slowly, boldly as the words settled deep in my spirit. The key to unlock the fullness of hope, peace, joy, and power lie in trusting in The Lord. It sounds so simple, but is it really?

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” Romans 15:13

We have hope in The Lord always, but this verse really seems to suggest that there is more available when we actively trust in Him. It is written that we would have ALL joy, and OVERFLOW with hope as we trust. There is an extra measure available for those willing to trust in Him actively. Simply put, is your love or kindness to a non-believer not Gods goodness overflowing on to them? God’s goodness is for all of creation, not just believers, but this makes it clear that there is more for those who do believe and choose to trust.

This kind of trust is not a passive thing. Typically if you have to trust in something, or someone it is because there is something at stake, or a risk involved. You do not have to trust in a given. In this, you have to actively choose to believe that The Lord will come through. It escapes me why this is so hard to do, but it is a very present reality. Even yesterday I found myself full of anxiety and fear and realized there was plenty I had been thinking about, and forgotten to trust in The Lord for. From my experience, it becomes much easier to trust in The Lord when you take even a brief moment to remember what He has already done for you. When was there just enough, and you went without want? When were you certain things would go south, but then somehow they did not? Maybe you did not even pray about it, and everything still went okay. Make a list and remind yourself, write it down and meditate on it. Actively choose and decide to believe (whether you feel like it or not) and as you breathe in this decision, let hope, joy, peace, and power wash over you, fill you and overflow from you.

The final part of this verse takes the pressure off. It is not, and will not be, by our own power that we can accomplish any of this or find the fullness of hope, joy, and peace. It is the power of the Holy Spirit who makes this possible. It is not a natural thing, to just decide and believe. It takes a miracle kind of power only found in the Holy Spirit. You can stop trying so hard. Do what you can and rest in knowing someone far more powerful than we may ever know is on your side and fighting for you to have all that this verse speaks of; for every good thing.