In 2016 Just Trust.

So this is where I am. This is what I learned in 2015. I don't expect everyone to be here with me. This is just a truth I stumbled upon in my path...somewhere in the middle of living life and seeking Christ, this is where I've found peace.

In the new year, there will be expectations and desires and joys and hurts and inevitable pain, There will be horrible acts of senseless violence and evil crimes committed. We will loose loved ones. We will mourn. We may go into full on war. We may elect a terrible choice as our leader.

But you know what? It DOESN'T MATTER.

"Trust the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take." Proverbs 3:5-6

Just Trust. That's the big secret, the epiphany I've found for this new year. 

Sounds so simple doesn't it? So Freeing. Just. Trust. 

Problem is, it isn't easy to do.

We worry. We let fear guide us. We hide and put up walls and create laws and policy and shut out others who are not like us. We hold onto our things and our comforts and push real, living people away. We let them drown so we can hang on to our safety nets. We hoard our lifeboats and preserve our standard of living, high on the drug of materialism. We shoot up with our addictions, so we can't feel other's pain.

Why? Because we stop trusting. And when we stop trusting, we get unhappy. I believe there is an absolute link between worrying about the THINGS of this world and discontentment. And discontent develops the links that lead to the chains of bitterness, jealousy, and resentment, all made from the corrosive metal of fear. We put our trust in ourselves, in our partners, in our jobs, in our government, even in our children. But we aren't enough. They aren't enough. So we fear. Our minds can't wrap around a great big God who cares for all of us at once. We can't conceive of the limitlessness. And the science of it all. It just doesn't make any sense. So we choose fear.

"But you are a tower of refuge to the poor, O Lord, a tower of refuge to the needy in distress. You are a refuge from the storm and a shelter from the heat. For the oppressive acts of ruthless people are like a storm beating against a wall, or like the relentless heat of the desert. But you silence the roar of foreign nations. As the shade of a cloud cools relentless heat, so the boastful songs of ruthless people are stilled." Isaiah 25:4-5

Let me tell you a secret. It doesn't matter who's leading, winning, or running the world down here. DOESN'T MATTER. Here's the truth. It doesn't matter what kind of job we have, how much money we make, what kind of car we drive, the clothes we wear, if we wear makeup or how we accessorize. It doesn't matter how many letters we can put after our names or how many degrees we have. Titles, ranks, likes, followers. They DO NOT MATTER. They don't impress HIM much.

All that matters is how much time we spend down on our knees beside the manger. It doesn't matter how far we get up the mountain. What matters is how far down we are willing to go to reach Him. Because the King of all Kings came to see the condition of our hearts and asked us to just trust in him.

"Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me. O my people, trust in Him at all times. Pour out your heart to Him, for God is our refuge." Psalm 62:5-8

SO. What if we choose to Just Trust God in 2016. In all things, everyday, in all situations. Just Trust. What if we stopped caring about keeping up with the Joneses or the Kardashians. What if instead we tried to keep up with Jesus? What if instead of fear or worry, we have faith and hope in Christ?

"Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? And if worry can't accomplish a little thing like that, what's the use in worrying over bigger things?" 
"And don't be concerned about what to eat and what to drink. Don't worry about such things. These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers all over the world, but your Father already knows your needs.  Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and he will give you everything you need." Luke 12:25, 29-31

Without seeking first the kingdom, it's impossible not to fill up our concerns with worries and wants of the world. Let's seek Him. Beyond all else.

Faith. Hope. Love. But the faith comes first. Without faith, there is no hope. Without faith, it is impossible to love the way we are called to love.

Just like love, trust is not a feeling, but a choice. It is an action we choose. Will we choose Fear or Faith? Let's choose to just trust in 2016.

Wishing you Peace and Joy in the New Year,

Ashley

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Deconstructing the Doofus Dad: A Dedication and Determination

This post is dedicated to my babies' daddy, aka my husband, Daniel.

The Doofus Dad.

You know this guy, right? The one who can't find his car keys or the Dunkin coffee or cook or clean or diaper children properly? The man who's wife is always giving him that "you're a moron" look as if he never does anything correctly?

Over the years, I bet you've seen a bunch of men like this. I know I have. . . on TELEVISION. But not so much in the real world.

A few years ago, my husband started making fun of these Doofus Dad commercials, and I started noticing a-not-so-nice trend. In way too many commercials and on family sit coms, the men are portrayed as idiots who are out of touch or just plain incompetent.  I know they bother Daniel. And the commercials really started bothering me too. And they should.

The Doofus Dad, who emerged on screens across America about 20 something years ago, can't be trusted to do anything right. Even in his own domain - the tool box - Tim Taylor (Tim Allen) just couldn't ever get the job done without making a mess of things. And Homer in the picture above? Lord help us all if Homer Simpson was ever in charge of actual real live children. Then, there's Al Bundy and Roseann's Dan, who seemed to forever be glued to their couch or chair. I know all TV dads can't be the Pa that Charles Ingalls was to Laura and Mary, but where did all the real good men (TV characters) go?

I know the cause, and I understand that it's mostly just about comedy. So, I'm not going to get into debating the nuances of sexist stereotypes and what women's liberation has done to the role and image of men in society. This is NOT that kind of post, and I DO NOT want to start that conversation.

My point is that this doofus dad image just doesn't ring true in real life. Not in my personal experience anyway. And, I do absolutely believe the media should have a certain level of responsibility to reflect and men and women more accurately and positively. The absolute truth is that both men and women are multi-faceted, multi-talented, different but equal HUMANS.

 And we are not all DIFFERENT in the SAME ways.

Based on the two fathers with whom I have the most experience - my own father and my children's father - the incompetent man, or doofus dad, persona doesn't apply at all. My dad, Bob, had a successful career, was (and still is) a great father to four girls, and he is pretty good at domestic duties as well. Even though he enjoys fishing and watching football and a cold beer after mowing the grass, he is also a great cook, who even cleans up the kitchen. My Bob Dad is a good listener, a good planner, a good Christian, a loving grandfather, and most importantly, he's a nice human. Yes, he has his flaws. He has "doofus" moments. He makes corny jokes. Sometimes he says the wrong thing or wrong word at the very wrong moment. Like that time he said orgasm instead of organism while talking to our pastor... 

Look, Bob Dad can even carry gifts and smile at the same time!

But I would never describe my father as incompetent or lazy like the guys in commercials. One summer he even took up the straps of my swimsuit for camp, because I had this funky short-waisted body that no swimsuit we could find would fit and my mom was out of town. So, he did what needed to be done and sewed. And he didn't screw it up either. Perhaps my father sets the standard pretty high, but isn't that what we should be selling? 

Then, there is Daniel, my husband and the father of my children. He might just be the most competent man (or woman) I have ever known. No, I'm not just saying that because he might read this. And believe me, I am not blind to his faults either. But honestly, he is incredibly resourceful and reliable. If he doesn't already know how to do something, he keeps researching until he learns how to do it. Whether it's a car problem or how to repair an old wooden door, he will figure it out. He thinks his constant researching drives me crazy, and maybe sometimes it does, but mostly I LOVE it.

I love that I can trust his opinion. I love that he is highly educated and widely read. I love that he loves the X Men movies and superheros, but one of his favorite movies is The English Patient. I love that he loves to travel and likes going to the theater and art museums, can quote Shakespeare, and always picks out the BEST books for me to read. But, he is also super analytical and technically savvy and can run electrical work and do plumbing and create pretty much whatever he sets his mind to in his workshop. I love that he is a manly, complex man. Far from the fumbling dad in the sit coms, his DIY projects always turn out, eventually, and they are done the right way, according to code and his own high standards.

When we both worked full-time  jobs, and I was pregnant, Daniel made dinner every night. When our daughter was an infant and inconsolable, it was his super swaddling techniques and embrace that calmed her. When he was in graduate school and was in-between jobs, he stayed home with the kids, looked for employment, and wrote for his classes, while also doing the laundry and cooking and other household duties. . .I could go on about his amazing work-ethic and self-discipline and muscular thighs, but you are probably getting nauseous already.

My point is not that he is perfect. He isn't. He doesn't always say the sweet, sentimental things that I want to hear, and he is pretty sensitive to criticism and very defiant. After all, he is just a man. But he is a great person. A great husband and father.  He is the man that I chose. I fell in love with his writing and stayed for his chocolate cake, and the rest is just icing.

Daniel and our son, Gabriel. 

Here is my point: Our men - husbands and fathers - bring a lot to the table. They may not parent the way we do or the way we want them to. They may not clean as well as women do. They have their issues. (Don't we ALL?) But they aren't all dumb, inept monkeys. What they give and the different methods in which they do their thing are IMPORTANT. And they should be appreciated and respected and cherished and not made into flat, doofus characters.

Maybe I just got really lucky with the men in my life. But most of the fathers I see, are smart, involved dads, who work hard at their jobs and spend time with their kids. They show up. They do the hard stuff. And, if we want the next generation to appreciate men and have high expectations for them, we should probably change the conversation they hear.

Thankfully, I think that advertisers have wizened up due to a few good men who stood up and said we've had enough. Watching the commercials during the Super Bowl this year, I noticed a complete departure from the funny beer commercials and doofus dad ads. But, I think in our own personal lives, we need to change the way we talk about men. Give our husbands more credit and less grief. Let our children hear how much we admire and appreciate our men. Let our boys see examples of men they can aspire to be. Let our girls see men who are worthy of loving.

And now I'll shut up and leave you with these links that prove we can show that men know how to dad.

Answer the Call

How to Dad

In Love With My Man,

Ashley

Crazy Confessions of an Introverted Hibernator

If you're looking for a bit of inspiration or wisdom here, keep looking. This is not that kind of blog post. I just feel like I need to get something out in the open. I might be just a lot crazy. I may be the only person on the planet who feels this way. But here it is: 


I like BIG warm BEDS and I cannot lie. 

And I like big blankets. If there is one item that I would need to bring with me to a deserted island, it would be my big down comforter. Or water. It's a toss up.

It is the beginning of February, and in case you haven't heard, we just had an actual, official blizzard last week. Which is basically just like a frozen hurricane. There was a lot of wind and a lot of snow. We were blessed with 5 foot drifts in our backyard. Yay! Sledding. We had to shovel a lot but were very fortunate and very thankful that we never lost power and we had no damage to our home. Thank God. We had an experience, a little life-snow adventure. Yay us!

Another deep secret about me: I like storms. Snow storms, rain storms, thunder storms. Love them all. Well, as long as I get to stay home all warm and cozy in my big warm bed until they are over. And as long as the snow plows shut the BEEP BEEP BEEP up! I even like snow. Freshly fallen snow on a sunny day is a beautiful sight. As long as I don't have to drive in it, or shovel it, or walk in it....Oh. But sadly, I do.

There is literally tons of snow surrounding us. It is piled everywhere. You can't see around any street corner from the mountains of displaced snow that were plowed into heaps of the now dirty, packed white stuff. Roads that used to be two-lanes have pretty much become single lanes of terror. Backing  out of  our driveway is like playing Russian roulette. Is there a car coming? Hard to tell. Will I get hit? There is a goood chance, but 's really, what's my option here? Walk. But where did all the sidewalks go? Under the banks of snow.

Here's the thing about me and winter weather - it transforms me into a serial hibernator. My spirit animal really must be a bear. I just want to curl into the fetal position (but in my big, warm bed and not in a cave) and sleep until spring. Problem is I get really hungry in the winter. Like HUNGRY. And I have to get up to make something to eat. Occasionally, I even need to feed the CHILDREN. But I don't WANT TO. Nor do I want to go anywhere or do anything, especially NOT the LAUNDRY. Goodness. We could store meat in our basement....but then it would smell like dirty socks...

So, I am in the middle of winter: cold, hungry, and sleepy. So, for the love of all humanity, can't you see? Don't you understand that hibernation is imperative? That is, hibernation with hot coffee and warm baked goods....and my big comfy bed.

BUT then today happened. Today we had another foot or so of snow dropped on us. Which is fine. OK. Whatever. More snow. Just another day to hibernate, right? Children home from school. Husband home from work. Mom doing random household chores, trying to be alright with this home invasion on a Monday.

You see, me and Monday have a thing going. And typically, we get to do our thing [QUIET is our thing] ALONE on Mondays. And I love this thing we have - this blissful quiet that follows the weekend of noises. But my children just don't get this. And now, it's 7:30 pm, and they ARE STILL TALKING TO ME. After talking to me and their dad and each other and their friends over the XBOX. All. Freaking. Day. Long.

And NOW. The superintendent of schools has the nerve to call and say there is NO SCHOOL tomorrow.  He dares to CANCEL school on Tuesday too. That's 4 days straight with my people all talking to me! And now I don't want to hibernate anymore. I want to throw my children to the wolves of the public school system and go out into the world and see amazing things like art and other adult people.

And at this very moment, I want my children in bed. I want hot shower, a tall White Russian, and some Downton Abbey. Alone. Yes. That might just be the thing that will retract my claws.

And maybe tomorrow this mama bear will not want to eat her young every time they speak to her of Minecraft and Kindles and Instagram. Maybe she will feed them and cuddle them and play games with them....maybe.

Good night, fellow hibernators. And good luck.

Ashley

Death. And Life in 2015

2015. Happy New Year!

Even though I absolutely wish it for anyone reading this post, that phrase is actually hard for me to say. This year didn't start off very happy. There have been a few very happy moments, but the end of 2014 and beginning of the New Year was rather devastating for my family and also for a few of my friends' families.

Death just literally sucks.

In the span of 2 weeks time, Death came and took the life of my aunt, my lifelong friend's grandfather, a childhood friend's father, a new friend's cousin, and my niece's young friends. Along with those lives, death sucked a lot of joy, hope, peace, and happiness from us survivors.

For me and my family, it was the sudden death of our Princess Diana - my only aunt on my father's side of the family, that deleted the happy from the beginning of our new year.

Aunt Di and her Prince William on their wedding day.

My Aunt Diana was beautiful, inside and out, and she will forever be remembered for the legacy of love and family she left us. She was 77 when she passed away, and she had lived a very rich, bright and full life as a big fan of Jesus, babies, and beaches. So, at her burial and memorial services, my family tried to celebrate her life more than mourn her death. But, I have to tell you, there were many tears flowing and tissues used while we all recounted how she touched each of our lives.

I am still struggling and even a bit angry that she is gone, even though I know that she is happily dancing with the angels in heaven without any pain in her knees. Aunt Di wasn't just my aunt. She was pretty much the epitome of what every aunt should be. She was an active participant and positive role model in the lives of her nieces (and grandchildren and great-grandchildren).

I have books inscribed by her, hand made gifts from her, photos that she copied for me; but what I will cherish most are the honest conversations she took the time to have with me. The words she softly shared that forever marked my outlook on life. As my sister Andrea said, she made us all feel that we were the favorite. She had this way making you feel like she was sharing a great secret with you when she spoke; she would lower her voice and punctuate her important points with a wink and a wide smile. And as my father said, she was the glue that continually bound our families together.

She wrote on the back of this picture, "Dancing at The Pavilion"

Even though she lived in the Carolinas and we lived in Tampa, she was present in my life. Despite her own aches and pains, she was there, packing up the house when my grandparents moved, making dinners, and spending time with her parents in their old age. When my grandmother began to loose her grip on life, Aunt Di was there, helping my parents care for my Mamaw. And when she died, it was Aunt Di and my mom, who watched my grandmother take her last breath.

Many of my memories of Aunt Diana were of the Christmases our families spent together, which were pretty big gatherings, combining her four children and my dad's four girls. And then later, when we all married and had babies of our own, which made sharing Christmas together difficult, there was always an open invitation to spend part of July at the family beach house, The Sonfish. In that big, bright peach (a color only Aunt Di would choose) house and on the beach, 2nd and 3rd cousins played and bonded and became friends, 1st cousins shared the joys of parenthood and got to relive a bit of their youth (thanks to babysitting provided by the older generation) together. Trips in the boat, full of sunkissed littles, to The Pavilion restaurant became an annual tradition. And behind all these priceless scenes of family - not always blissful - togetherness, Aunt Diana would be there capturing it all with her camera or video recorder.

Alexandra sitting on the porch of The Sonfish

Gabriel enjoying Holden Beach

The whole Birchfield/Boyer clan together on the beach. 

I'm not trying to make my aunt sound like a perfect saint - she had her areas of selfishness and pride just like everyone else - but she was our saint. Patron of dancing, bright colors, wide smiles, loud laughter, memory making, and family glue. It is because of her legacy of love that I received several random hugs from my sweet adolescent cousins when we were together this past weekend. It is because of her that I heard the young adult cousins easily say to one another "I love you."  It is because of her legacy of family that we plan on getting together this summer at the beach and next Christmas at my cousin's. It is because of her example that many in her family have relationships with Jesus Christ.

Death happened this year. It is hard. It is sad. But we can learn from it. Here are 15 things my aunt's life and death taught me about LIVING in 2015 and always.

1. Death can happen suddenly. Never miss an opportunity to spend time with your family.

2. Dance anyway. Despite the pain, dance like everyone is watching and that you don't care.

3. Every life is important. Make sure those in your life FEEL important.

4. Spend time with babies. Suck up their scent. It's magical.

5. Turn your eyes upon Jesus and surrender it all to him. In every situation.

6. Invite strangers into your family. Adopt. A pet. A kid. An elderly person. Anyone who needs one.

7. Show your children and grandchildren what's really important in life. Don't just tell them.

8. Read whenever you can't sleep and sleep in whenever you can.

9. Eat less. Food is just fuel for you body; it's not love. (Actually, her son Craig taught me that one).

10. Exercise every day. (Yeah, I know, I don't either, but I should start.) It will make you feel better,         and if you ignore your body, it will give up on you too soon.

11. Live most of your life in the Carolinas. Because they are in the middle. And New England winters       and Florida summers suck. The. Life. Right. Out. Of. You.

12. Be a Beach Bum. The ocean is free therapy.

13. Give your time and money to charitable organizations and causes you believe in.

14. Be good to your nieces and nephews. One day they might just write your obituary.

15. Smile and wink a lot. It makes people feel special. And they will always remember how you       made them feel.

She made us all feel like we were her favorite.

Aunt Di, we miss you so very much. But you will never be forgotten, and you will live on in our hearts until we see you again. Until then, we will be jealous of the angels.

Here is Allen Reed's video memorial of our Dancing Queen. https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10205739524552588&set=vb.1390063842&type=2&theater