Moved In!

The last few weeks have been a flurry of packing, moving, cleaning, prepping, coordinating, and finding new rhythms and routines to press into in a new environment. Waking up in the morning to the sun dancing along a new floor feels like a dream that someone will inevitably shake me from soon. When we first stepped into Hubbard Home, the vision for it was alive and tangible. Then the bathrooms were stripped to the studs and filled with a dirt hole, the walls became dust stored in the garage, and the floor turned to cement… and suddenly the finish line felt like an impossible future. Slowly, step-by-step, putting each piece back together built this home into what it is today… and now the past is something we have to recall from the recesses of our memory (*Do you remember the fourth shade of moldy shag carpet that used to fill this room?! Or the mauve tub and vanity? Or the acoustic ceiling? Or the nicotine-stained walls….?!)

Remembering builds gratitude for the journey and rest in the arrival. As humans, we are prone to forget. Even after freedom from the Egyptians, the Israelites looked back at their life in slavery with hopes and prayers to return. We idealize the past, fear the future, and forget the process. I forget the work of God in my life and lose sight of His faithfulness in search of the next best thing.

It is my commitment not to take this home for granted and to facilitate a home rooted in thankfulness. It is so easy to continue to focus on all that needs to get done, instead of resting in remembrance of how far we have come. In home ownership, a home is always and forever a work-in-progress. We need to carve out time to admire where it is now instead of focusing on the road ahead. For this reason, I hope that the images of orange shag, a plywood pantry, and leaky bathrooms are not forever replaced with the renovations I see now… that they remain alive in my mind so that I always remember the value of the Process.

As baby boy approaches his due date, I want to bring him into a home that overflows with deep gratitude. His room might not be completely finished, his drawers might not be organized, but that doesn’t matter. He has parents and community that love him and want the best for him. He has a roof over his head, and food to eat, and he will be the receiver of the cuddliest cuddles. These are the things that matter and where our energy will be directed in only a matter of weeks. Another crazy transition is upon us, but I think we are slowly getting ready to welcome it in… or as ready as we can be as people who have never done this before!

Floors are in! And making those windows pop!

Love this hallway vision. Fruit Lamp still goin strong.

The result of all my indecision led to more demo after the painter and drywaller and purchased shelves.
Very excited for the open shelf concept to be put in motion!

What is Ikea without soft-serve?!

The best human in the world!!! He stays up late every night working away at Ikea furniture and hardware installation and painting and moving boxes for me and providing for our growing family!

The Decisions

This past month has been a series of on-the-spot rapid-fire decisions. I am usually pretty good at this – I know what I want and I trust my instinct. However, halfway through the month, I felt my brain fogging up from multitasking all the decisions and suddenly I couldn’t make a single decision right or left. The thought process would go somewhat like: “I have always wanted this… but maybe I want that… what if I don’t really like this… what if I ultimately prefer that???”… followed by a frantic Pinterest search to confirm what I originally wanted anyways. The painter would be on the other line purchasing paint and I would be Instagram searching for the perfect white; the bathroom plumber would be installing the trim, as I am ordering a new color sink… all in between work and lunch breaks and after work and late night hours. It has been slightly more than chaos… as we predicted it would be.

Something to note about the Enneagram 3 is that we often lose sight of our heart’s desire when overwhelmed with voices telling us what we should do. We are pleasers who hate to disappoint; we are achievers who will never settle for less than best. In the quest for the Best and the commitment to adapting to every other persona and situation we find ourselves in (in order to feel safe and loved), we lose touch with ourselves. We forget our identity and our preferences. I have repeatedly wrestled with this process – I initially know what I want, but then others’ ideas cause me to doubt – but I ultimately end up exactly where I started.

Somewhere along the way, I learned to trust my inner voice and trust God telling me who I was. It is when I lose sight of Him that I get drowned in the sea of pleasing. It is when I let decisions about walls and floors dictate my day that I stray from the Truth of my identity. I am only found in Him; He is the Rock that helps me recognize who I am and where I am going. When I center my day on Him, wake up with a grateful heart and an eagerness for Him to speak, I am able to see it all so clearly.

On Saturday, we move. The quick decisions will be over. I will sit in the house and picture the space and daydream about the best piece for every corner. There will be time. Even after the baby comes, there will be time. A home is a process and a work in the making; it is one that is never fully complete because there is always The Next. 

As Ben has said, right now we have a House – but tomorrow we will make it a Home. Despite doorknobs and cabinet colors, Ben and I there together is all that really matters. Because Home is where we are together.

Then and Now

In the months leading up to my 8^th grade graduation, I remember looking around my room at night dreaming about what it could look like flipped and re-designed.

Although I loved my purple horse border with pink polka-dot accents, the lacey pillows, and dollhouse in the corner, I also felt the early quakes of a transition resonating deep within me; a new season approaching as I moved from middle school to high school, preempting the desire for something slightly more “grown-up.” I laid awake as sketches floated through my mind, dreams of demo-ing the peach-toned built-ins, shifting my bed to a new corner, and making space for a real dresser with an attached mirror. These are the things that kept me up at night and the only thing I could fixate on for months.

When my parents jumped on board, the Demo began – and also the tears. Seeing my bedroom ripped to shreds and sleeping on the floor of my brothers’ room was not in my vision of Room Updating. One night as my dad was sledgehammering down the shelves that previously housed the horse figurines and American Girl Dolls of my youth, I ran across the hall and cried to my mom, heaving out phrases of how this was a huge mistake – I never should’ve redone my room because now it was ruined! I would inevitably be sleeping on the floor of my brothers’ room for life because there was no way it would ever be accomplished. In this moment, she patiently sat me down and reassured me that the construction phase is the hardest part and understandably difficult, but once it gets finished, the vision comes alive. In my “this is forever” mindset, she reminded me that it might feel like that now, but it has to get worse before it gets better.

I have returned to this moment over and over and over again – through Texas moves and Chicago home redesigns – my two San Diego homes and most recently our Hubbard Home fixer phase. Learning to deconstruct in order to reconstruct has allowed me to absorb the process and even learn to enjoy it. As an organized-Type A-recovering-perfectionist, this does not come natural to me. I want the Result – I want the perfect finish – I want everyone to see the beautiful. I don’t naturally stand in peaceful rest through the in-between because I doubt my decisions and second-guess the options in hopes of uncovering The Best.

And then I remember sitting in the mess of my 8^th Grade Room as tears flowed onto a bedspread of sawdust, gazing at my room construction site through blurry eyes, with a complete lack of hope in the ability for anything to be better. This despondent moment became one of great delight a few months later, as I chose colors and furniture and a new rug for my room. It all came together and the dream came to life and the construction zone was a thing of the past. When it was all finished, it seemed silly to think it ever felt impossible.

As we enter the season of becoming a family, it only makes sense to usher it in with full force – stripping a home to studs and building it back up allows us to leave the past season behind and embrace the change of the new. The timing feels significant in preparation for the learning curve that’s about to come with a newborn and family of three. It’s all scary, but it feels so right. I am filled with doubt, but also confidence. I hold onto the moments of my past to collect myself in deep breaths and remember this is meaningful work and it is leading somewhere. A bathroom that finally has tiles helps, too.

“Men are never duly touched and impressed with a conviction of their insignificance, until they have contrasted themselves with the majesty of God.”

// R.C Sproul, via Crazy Love by Francis Chan

There is a danger in getting wrapped up in My World right now… this chaotic, constant-decision-making, Pinterest-board-making, baby-transitioning world with its abyss of questions and unknowns. I agonize over floor colors and wake up at night after dreams of the roof caving in… I check the budget spreadsheets and timelines as little baby moves about beneath me, wondering if he will indeed have a home in 3 weeks. I watch as the piles of onesies and bottles grow on the bed of our guest room, unorganized and haphazardly tossed aside until they have a nursery to belong to and a baby to use them.

But then I stop. I take time to pause and breathe and look to God. I remember His Graciousness, His Love, His Majesty… and suddenly all these decisions feel minute in the scheme of His Greatness. He is with us and He has given us so much in this season – community, family, the gift of a new home and people to help us with it. He has been in every decision and has led us around every corner that felt blind and impossible. Yes, He cares about the details and the wonders of my heart… but He also is here claiming me as His, desiring for me to trust Him with all these things – to look to Him as He pulls me further into his grace. He knows the stress, but He asks for the gratitude.

The point of it all is always & forever His Glory. I want to remember that… I want to rest in the assurance that He holds the universe in His hands. I want to look at Him with a heart of unending Thank You’s  instead of complaints. I choose gratitude over fear and steadfastness over anxiety. Do I know that He is a good, good Father who brings delight to His children? I want my response to be one of resounding thanks for all He has given us in this season and for all that is to come. He is so so good.

Sometimes, it's the Pipes

When I initially considered the renovations for our Hubbard Home, it seemed so matter-of-fact: floors and paint. As long as we put in new floors and paint everything white, our home will be beautiful, livable, and feel close to new.

Fast forward to last week when our bathroom walls were stripped to studs and 2x4’s, exposing rotted pipes laying in the dirt, crumbled and corroded after 40+ years of minimal usage… suddenly it’s no longer Floors & Paint. It has now evolved into copper pipes, rerouted plumbing, and a deep trench of dirt and uprooted cement outside our home.

From the beginning, I dreaded tapping into the walls, fearful of what we might find there. I was afraid that perhaps there was more work needed that I simply wanted to ignore. Can’t we just focus the funds on the part that makes the house look good?! How bad can it be for bathrooms to drain into the dirt?! I focus so much on the aesthetic that I ignore the functionality of what lies within.

But what good is the beauty of the outside if the inside is rotting?!

While I want to focus on the light fixtures, flooring, brass accents, and subway tile, I forget that if the pipes aren’t working, all of that is useless. Our home could flood and our flooring could crumble; our kitchen could overflow and our bathrooms could back-up. All the crown molding and accent colors and gold hardware are useless at that point.

Walking with God isn’t something I can show-off or prove on the outside. He changes and refines our heart in a gentle, non-glamorous way. He renovates the functionality of how we work, instead of the pieces of us that others see. I get lost in appearance; I want to show who I am to the world without digging to the deeper, scary layers that lie behind. What am I scared of?!

If there’s anything I hope to give to our son, it’s a sense of power in vulnerability; a willingness to peel back the layers and explore the heart. A softness and grace towards his shadow, and a strength in his own weakness. I realize this is a discipline I have to first know within myself in order for it to be passed to him.

I hope to remember our lessons in these weeks of work within Hubbard Home. Because sometimes it’s more about the pipes than anything else.

Demo Days

Bearing sledgehammers and power tools, we entered into Hubbard Home yesterday ready to take our spreadsheets and middle-of-the-night conversations to the walls. Before entering, Ben gently reminded me that “It always gets worse before it gets better.” I was hesitant that Hubbard had any margin to actually “get worse,” as the initial improvements from yesterday made it only look better! However, as we took down the panel board in the master bedroom to discover a painted bull on the wall complete with bullet marks through the horns, I realized that what lies behind the naked eye does in fact have the potential to get worse. Only moments after standing with arms crossed and puzzled looks in front of the bull, our neighbor Phyllis stopped in to tell us our former homeowner Old Man Turner actually housed 148 guns in that room. We are hoping that perhaps there are some stored in the walls that we will find for house renovation cash… but so far no luck.

After our discovery of Mr. Bull, it confirmed our decision to extend the master closet and flip the entrance to the bathroom from the hallway to the bedroom. These are thoughts we had originally tossed around, but because of our timeframe and funds, we didn’t know how deep we could go into the hole of fixer-upper. Let’s just say that Mr. Bull has brought me luck in providing the perfect set-up for a larger closet!

Upon buying this home, we knew it was an adventure of unknowns that would unfold as time moved forward. There was part of me that dreaded the renovation process because of the unknowns and the fear that everything will take much longer than expected – which pushes back our finish line, tardies our move-in date, which ultimately gets closer and closer to Baby Time. (Do you feel my blood pressure rising?!) However, as Ben hammered down beams, sawed off drywall, and crowbarred the built-ins, I realized how fun the process is to see unfold. Each piece of the demo makes it more exciting and makes the vision feel that much more attainable.

The process feels like chaos right now – it feels like a distant future we might never see. There is one remaining toilet in our home held together only by the beams and studs that surround its future home. When it feels impossible, I take a deep breath and remember to trust. I lean into Ben, my best teammate, and know that him and I are in it together. I am so grateful for his partnership and support – (and also his hunky demo vibes.) I would go anywhere with him and I’m so glad that this is where we are going together.

The Third Tri

Truth be told, I have not embraced pregnancy the way I thought I would for most of the months. Beyond battling with the thought of “our whole life is about to change…” I dread the inevitable body shifting – stretch marks, veins, extra weight, swollen feet – that come with it. I fear getting so big that I waddle or never finding a comfortable sleep position or getting up every hour to use the bathroom or not fitting into any of my old clothes ever again… I have carried so much fear in what’s to come with the idea of perhaps I won’t ever return to my “normal self,” maybe this is just who I am now.

But there is something about the third trimester… a conversion that took place; an opening up to this new season with the release of my fists and the gaze of my eyes on the beauty through the sacrifice. While the first trimester was filled with shock and slight depression and the second trimester was consumed with questions and birth anxieties, the third trimester has been defined by hope and joy-filled anticipation. Opening up cute tiny things and generous gifts at my first baby shower on Saturday made the truth of this little life and the celebration for the arrival of our guy feel real. His daily tosses and turns are met with the thought of “I can’t wait to see who you are!” while my apprehensions regarding giving birth have been replaced with a newfound strength and confidence. I was made to do this! I feel alive in my body now more than I ever have before – a sense of awe with the empowerment of the female and wonder of God’s great gift of life. I am no longer convincing myself to feel these things that I think I am “supposed” to feel – I sense a rootedness from my mind to my heart – God’s presence, His joy, and the expectancy of all to come.

I no longer hide this giant secret inside or am given the questionable looks of “did she just eat a giant burrito?” Strangers smile on the street and ask me when I’m due; they tell me how wonderful it is to have children, and willingly unfold the stories of their own births. I realize that I am not alone – I join the chorus of women who have gone before me; there is an unspoken union bonding me to those I don’t know. The mutual understanding that takes place female to female saying “I get it. I’ve been there. It’s amazing. You can do it!” I am stepping into the true blessing of it all, the gift of life, and learning to surrender it all to God in the process.

I anticipate the magic of what’s to come – even though it is unknown and scary – I don’t feel afraid of it any longer. I don’t want to undo or cancel or pretend it’s not happening. The moment this baby enters the world will be even more beautiful because of the process of his growth inside of me. Isn’t that how life is? The “goal” is never truly about the goal; it is always and forever the process of getting there. And God has had me on a unique journey tailored only for me because of how He knows my deep needs – holding my hand, gently guiding me, and teaching me to look to Him through it all.

Best Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe Ever

I do not claim to be anything close to a food blogger or food artist... But I do consider myself pretttty close to a chocolate chip cookie connoisseur. I have a go-to recipe that I have been using every since living with my dear friend Betsy - her secret? The oatmeal cookie recipe underneath the Quaker Oats box! In our home, these are termed The Betsy Cookies.

But yesterday, I saw my friend Esther post about this recipe... and my mouth started watering at work. I had no choice but to go home and make them.

And they might be my new favorite!!! The important thing about these cookies is to actually follow the directions (which is usually my problem with cooking...). The way the butter melts and the sugar is combined and the flaky grade of Kosher salt and the patience to refrigerate... it all adds up to making these cookies perfection.

Look no further - HERE it is!

Looking Back and Moving Forward

With the third trimester weeks seeming to fly by so fast, I have been getting more and more tears thinking of the moment Ben and I become a family of three. It seems that there are two focal moments in most women’s lives - her wedding day and the birth of her first child. Since as far back as I can remember, I have been curious about these two events – what they would look, feel, be like? In some ways I can predict what it will feel like to have a child – maybe like falling in love or the kind of heartache you feel when you care for someone even deeper than they can ever know. But in most ways, I have no idea what it will be like – that feeling of This is Our Family, this is Who We Are, We Are Now Three – and You Are The Human who has been inside me for nine months – You have been developing in there all along and now You exist in the outside world! I have always wanted to be a mom and have a family, and it feels surreal that this time is approaching so quickly.

Last night at our Community Group, I sat next to a college student as we chatted about her roommates and post-college goals and hopes for graduation. She mentioned that she has no idea what it’s like to not be a student – to be a working professional in the world “like me.” She mentioned how she wants to be mentored by people in different life stages – “older people in their 30’s.” I am the older girl in my 30’s, and yet it feels like yesterday I was sitting in her shoes… the blind 21-year-old filled with dreams of what life could look like and no idea how it would unfold. I forget that I am no longer that person. I remember looking at women in their 30’s with babies, thinking that life stage was so far away and would most likely never be near. It catches me off-guard when confronted with the reality that I am no longer who I used to be… the recent Baylor grad jetting off to Spain and wondering when my husband would come along. I have a husband and an expecting baby and now a house that we actually own… When and how did I encounter all these rare and beautiful gifts?!

In some ways I know that I will always be that girl – walking and writing her way through Spain, figuring out life in downtown Chicago, road-tripping across the country heading west – because it is what makes me who I am today and has formed my journey of transformation. In other ways, I am so deeply grateful I have shed so many layers of my old self, the fierce independence and shaming voice of perfection and rigid control of my time. Change is hard, but also so beautiful. I feel fulfilled, loved, and abundantly thankful for life exactly where it is in this moment – with all the mysteries and questions and unknowns that lie ahead. Life holds inevitable change providing an opportunity for growth as we reflect on who we are, where we come from, and where we are going.

I love moments like these, causing me to look back on the journey and recognize God’s faithfulness and very near presence. Life rolls forward and carries on; but without reflection and remembrance it is void of a deeply thankful heart. I am so different now than I used to be… and sometimes I want to cling to who I was or re-create/long for those moments when everything felt perfect. But I know that it is in moving forward – one step at a time – that life offers even richer moments of joy and contentment.

As this little guy kicks inside me, I am reminded of how God forms life and offers new mercies every morning. It is day-by-day as we seek Him that our journey of transformation happens… it is the habits we create, the people we encounter, the focus of our thoughts, the commitments of our time, the spending of our money… it is in these seemingly overlooked moments that we are formed, that this child will be shaped, and that our family culture will be developed.

When I slide back into my nostalgic-sentimental-weepy self, Ben grounds me in the reminder that “it only gets better.” His words could not be more true… and looking back on life only proves it over and over and over again.

The Calm, Right Now

To most accurately reference this slice of time, Ben and I have been using the saying "the calm before the storm"... because we know with closing, Demo Day, renovations, moving, and baby, it's all about to get completely crazy. As if it hasn't already ;) 

Since Ben gets back from Europe the day after we close, and we are on a strict 1-month deadline before moving in... the demo starts in a week. For this reason, we soaked in a slow morning in La Jolla yesterday, sipping iced coffee, eating pancakes, and walking on the beach. In these moments I often wonder if life gets any better... these minutes that seem to melt away under the footsteps in the sand and the panoramic beauty of cliffs and sea. Walking hand-in-hand with Benjamin, I am made safe - remembering that no matter what, we have each other. This is exactly what life is about. There's nowhere else to be and nothing more important in this time that I wish I could freeze forever.

I think about little baby (who we have nicknamed bbnize for now...) growing inside and I wonder what life will look like with him here. While I know so many of the obvious things will change - sleep, mainly - I wonder how the inside of me will change... how my heart will transform, what my thoughts will be about, and how my deeper desires and passions may alter. Those are the changes that seem more unpredictable; the ones I can only know as I walk through it. 

I also wonder how much of life will continue to feel strangely unchanged. There have to be aspects of each day that fall back into normal routine, right?! So many new moms focus on the things that seem so different, but what about those that stay the same? I might be experiencing a major identity and role shift, but I'll still be me, right?! 

It will be an interesting course to walk this next month - in the predictable lies the unpredictable; in the fear lies the growth; and in the questions lie the journey. Even though my dreams circle around re-tiling bathrooms and open-shelving, I will attempt to soak in the minutes of calm that I can steal before life feels like more of a storm. As we continue to learn, it is through the rain that we experience His glory; even when it's not our plan, we would still choose the rain knowing the richness of unexpected joy that lies within it.