Where Standards are Low and Grace is High

Today is the day I planned to write my first post for this new blog. It is the first day of summer for my high school football/baseball coaching husband Jared. Of course, summer is sort of a lose term for coaches, but he is mostly home today to help with Jackson, our almost three-year-old. The acceptance letter for my latest manuscript just came, meaning the major edits are done and my mind is free to focus on something else for a while. Today is the perfect day to launch my new site. I’ve been jotting down ideas for the kinds of nourishing wisdom I might share in my very first post: a yummy recipe perhaps, a diy home décor project, a funny kid story, or maybe some profound spiritual insight.

Except, the truth is, today, I’m tired and cranky. Today started out rough…5:45 a.m. rough, and while the husband and toddler are napping it off, the ability to nap is not one of my gifts. Instead I’ll just linger somewhere between exhausted fog and over-caffeinated jitters until I can crawl into bed tonight and pray for a better start tomorrow. To give you an idea of how this morning went, here are a few phrases I used before 6:00 a.m.

“You guys suck at summer!” (For the record, Jackson wasn’t in earshot for this one.)

“Everybody out of bed. If you want to wake me up before six, then up you go. You better make the most of this morning! No tv, no resting, no whining. Fun. Get up and have yourself some FUN.”

“No, you really should go to your Bible Study. Seriously. I’m going to be intolerable today and YOU are going to need every bit of wise counsel from godly men you can get.”

“I’m fully capable of mothering a two year old. If you have any doubts, then why have you entrusted me with him for the last nine months while you’ve been going to WORK? If your summer plans involve teaching me how to parent, we’re in for a long two months.”

He stayed home. Though he insisted it wasn’t for our son’s protection, I’m not so sure I believe him.

When he offered to take Jackson with him to the gym at 8:30…which felt like noon by the way…I surprised myself and actually asked if I could go along. I honestly don’t know what overcame me. I was tired, still a little on edge, it was storming, and the sounds of rain and thunder were luring me to my bed. But something nudged me. “A little exercise would do your mood good,” the little voice in my head encouraged. I didn’t have a work out plan. I didn’t for a second think about what would burn the most calories or tone my physique the best. I just went in, found a machine, and started moving, and then found another, and moved a little more. On the way home, Jared asked how my workout went. “I went. I moved. That was better than not going. Not moving."

So, despite feeling sluggish and profoundly unprofound today, I thought I’d go with the same sentiment. ”I wrote, I hit ‘publish.’ That’s better than not writing. Not hitting ‘publish.’”

Writing my first post for The Nourished Mama on too little sleep in my sweaty workout clothes. - June 9, 2014

Welcome to The Nourished Mama…where standards are low, grace is high, and every little effort is applauded.

 

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