Sabbath.

Rest.

Pause.

The past few weeks, I've been pondering on the whole concept of sabbath.

This is not a new idea to me, I was raised in a home that took Sundays seriously and we always rested (honestly, I remember getting bored as a kid).

It's a practice, a rhythm, a principle I've maintained with varying degrees throughout my adult life.

Lately I have found my podcast app unintentionally flooded with random episodes on sabbath and rest.

Ultimately (and most importantly), sabbath is God's idea. It is His plan. He created it from the very beginning of time. 

If the God of all creation took a rest from His work after six days, that's a pretty big clue that we puny humans need to take sabbath seriously. It's bordering on arrogant or absurd to think we could function well otherwise.

I know what it is to run myself into the ground. I know what it is to not truly take time each week for rest, worship, and refueling. 

I also know how easy it can be to have a "sabbath" consist of 90% Netflix, Hulu, and Words with Friends.

I am in no way bashing TV show binging or iPhone gaming. I love a Gilmore Girls marathon as much as the next girl and there's something weirdly fulfilling about beating your husband in another round of Words with Friends.

But recently I am discovering that excessive doses of vegging out on the living room sofa with the Apple TV remote does little for my health or sanity. It is not (always) truly resting.

Five months of a challenging pregnancy have given me more "down" time than I've had in years. What I've learned is that, while TV shows can provide the beautiful gift of distraction from pain, they ultimately can increase my levels of anxiety and restlessness. 

Restless = the opposite of restful.

These days you'll find me reaching for a book to read, my journal to scribble in, or my MacBook to plunk out words in blog post drafts (not nearly all of them get posted).

You'll find podcasts and the audio Bible playing in my wireless air pods instead of Netflix running in the background, while I clean the house, make dinner, or do my makeup.

You'll hear me ask my hubby to play some competitive rounds of Bananagrams or Farkle.

You'll catch me on a quick fifteen minute walk instead of scrolling Instagram.

Don't get me wrong. There is still plenty of Facebook marketplace searching and Instagram story watching and The Office streaming with the hubs.

There is still more screen time than is probably healthy. 

But I'll take progress over perfection and I'll keep pushing forward.

When weeks are extra super crazy rough, like this past one has been, it's even more crucial to use the sabbath as a time to truly find refreshment. 

Today it meant waking up way too early (oh, pregnancy) and laughing hysterically at the most random things while we lounged in bed with morning breath and matted hair.

It meant ducking out of church right after the service and slipping back into our comfies and nibbling on huge pieces of banana coffeecake, while sharing an episode of Fixer Upper.

it meant 20 minutes in the kitchen whipping up a creamy chicken enchilada recipe that I found on the internet and laughing until I spit food out of my mouth when all they tasted like was warm sour cream (which hubs hates) dumped over some tortillas.

It meant four rounds of loud and intense Bananagrams, while we sipped on our lemon waters (I'm the reigning champion, for the record).

It meant watching the pilot episode of a show I've never seen, while hubs was off at his weekly ultimate frisbee game, and then realizing I was super not into Hulu right now and opening my laptop to write instead.

Later this evening we'll have BLT sandwiches (BLTC to be technical, because you have to add cheese...in fact, mine will be BLTCA because I just remembered I have ripe avocados. Yesssssss.)

We've faced some hard things this week. They have hit on many sides, in many areas of life, and left me weak, wounded, and weary. I have not felt so beaten down in a very long time. 

But after hours of discussion & time in prayer last night and a beautifully restful Sunday today, my heart is a little less heavy. The problems are not fixed or gone but the simple act of taking a sabbath from it all has left me with a little more peace and a day filled with laughter instead of the tears from the past several days

And I'm reminded yet again that God's principles & practices are always for our best.

​And how silly it is to think or act otherwise.

As we approach our second wedding anniversary, I find myself reflecting on how the past five months of pregnancy have changed, challenged, and grown our marriage. 

The first three months were crazy. The Crohn's scare, the massive migraines, the vomiting, the dehydration. the unspeakably painful hospitalization and subsequent slow recovery,  the residual headaches and blurry vision, the exhaustion and emptiness and zero energy & health to devote to our home and, honestly, to our marriage.

As a backdrop to this story, we moved into our new home a mere two weeks before we found out Little Monster was on the way and I was immediately incapacitated with morning (all day) sickness at 5 weeks, the night after that + sign appeared on that pregnancy test.

This new home needed a boatload of work, still reeked of cat urine (amidst our weeks of tireless work and ripping things out and odor sealing), there were boxes everywhere, no order to the chaos, and we had absolutely zero daily or weekly routine or normal. (Additionally, Justin was traveling a ton for work.)
​
If you know me at all, you know that those facts alone would have me stressed and struggling. 

Add in the nausea and exhaustion and hormones and inability to do anything about the mess & smell, and you can only imagine the disaster that I had become.

I hated our new home.

I mean for real. Hated it. Wished we had never bought it. Dreaded walking in the door after an exhausting day of merely surviving the work day.

(In my defense, the house absolutely reeked and I had my smell sensitivity heightened times a thousand and was nauseous 24/7.)

I have digressed a bit but there is a point to this rabbit trail.

The state of our home affects our marriage, especially when one of the partners (me) is hugely affected by our daily surroundings. 

So.

Chaotic, smelly house.

Raging hormones.

Unending morning sickness.

Utter exhaustion.

Complete overwhelm.

Extreme pain & suffering from pregnancy "side effects".

Sounds like a recipe for a thriving marriage, right?

Not.

But friends, it's been beautiful. Ridiculously challenging and filled with ugly moments, but beautiful.

I have experienced deeper love and sacrifice from my husband than I ever have before (which is saying something).

We have grown together, through the helpless and hopeless days.

We have held hands more tightly than ever, as we face fears and challenges much greater than us.

We have shared Psalms and sobbing at 2:00am.

​Justin has held me tight through more anxiety the past couple months than ever before.

Because, while we may be over halfway through the second trimester, the challenges are far from gone. They have changed and evolved but are there every moment of every day. (See this post.)

It is now a Tuesday morning, a week and a half later. Apparently this is what happens when you run out of time to add the photos to your blog post: it sits neglected for 10 days. Oh life...

I had another acupuncture appointment this morning and then I ran to the grocery store quick and now i have strawberry shortcake in the oven. A Valentine's Day tradition of a homemade red & white dinner at home will be continued tomorrow and strawberry shortcake is on the menu for dessert. I'm a tiny bit excited.

Little miss Emery is kicking away this morning. I don't know how many times a day I thank God for those kicks and punches and barrel rolls. It brings such joy (even when uncomfortable). 

The past several days the pregnancy anxiety has been slightly off the charts. I could write this post all over again. In fact I just read it again and realized how much i wrote that post because I needed to read that post.  It is hard to stay consistent with the healthy habits and routines that can help. It's much more natural to curl up in the fetal position with a bowl of lucky charms and Netflix.

It's easier to clam up and withdraw than it is to reach out for help and prayer. But reaching out in honesty and humility is by far the better choice. So thankful for praying besties and incredible momma support groups online and a loving hubby.

My final thought today is an encouragement for anyone who is struggling...  Reach out to someone and ask for prayer. Ask for practical help if you need it. Share what is on your mind and heart. I am here and ready to pray for anyone and everyone who needs it. Send me a message and I'll lift you up before the Father. I am 100% serious when I say that I don't know if/how I would have survived the past four months without the prayers of so many who love me and little Emery. I am eternally grateful and my desire is to be able to do that for many others, no matter the struggle or battle they/you are facing. 

Also. Take notice and find joy in the little things. Whether it's one of your favorite candles for $5.49 instead of $15.99 or baking an obscene amount of chewy homemade chocolate chip cookies. Notice, breathe, give thanks, journal them in a gratitude journal. Turn on worship music. This is an artist that is a new favorite of mine, especially her album of Psalms.

Enjoy your Tuesday, friends. I'll be back soon with a post on marriage and pregnancy, sometime during this week of Valentine's Day.

​XOXO