Why I Blog: Two Years Later

As soon as she enters, it is clear that this is NOT her neighborhood.

Was it the Southern accent perhaps?
The cute striped cowl-neck maternity shirt paired with holey tennis shoes?
The lack of workout attire indicating a freshly completed hot yoga or barre session?

It was probably given away by a combination of these things, but no one seemed to notice too much.

Then as if she belonged, two seats opened up. Women wearing designer clutches and summer workout attire (during the opposite season) exited gracefully.

The fireplace, the warm hearth, the well-cushioned chair, and side tables were hers. She reserved it all with her most precious belongings: a Bible, a few books, a torn and tattered and oh-so-loved Better Life Bag.

The barista was a friendly man with a wrinkly, wind-burned face. He did not seem as old as he appeared.
He took her order with much care. It was a complicated one - even more complicated since the babe who now fluttered inside shouldn't have to tolerate the caffeine routine the busy toddler once afforded her.

She waited. She scrolled her phone. Five others waited before, so she sank into her well-cushioned chair and leaned back awhile, carefully lifting her legs sore from a pregnancy so off-balanced and bruised from the risky ice. She rested.

She knew her son was taken care of. Her husband was there, and God also. They were on her team and knew that if she was to live and love with the entirety of her being, there would be days when she'd need a well-cushioned chair to sit pretty and hear from her own God. Yes, the same One Who was there, with them, also.

Her drink was ready, with a large water to spare. She would have to pee twice during her few-hour stay, but the neighbors were friendly though more well-dressed and more accustomed to half-days away from home. They guarded her treasures letting her and her bump go on ahead.

This was her place.

I wrote my first blog post two years ago today.
It was a whim - just thought it'd be fun to record the story of John's birth.
{It was much more fun to write it than to live it. Ha!}

I never knew that it would lead me here.

Before John was born (and long before that), I was in college.
I was in college for a loooooonnnnnnngggggg time.
I majored in Middle Grades Education because

1. I love middle school kids. I know that this is the weirdest thing you've ever heard.

But it's a truly hilarious and rewarding age.

2. I have two favorite subjects, and with middle ed. in Georgia, you get to pick two subject areas of concentration. For me, it was Language Arts & Social Studies.

Because of my field of study and concentration, I spent most of my scholastic energy writing - be it lesson plans, literary analyses, or eighth grade journal topics/entries. I enjoyed it so! Every assignment afforded me a chance to be creative, to sharpen my skills, and to drink the heck out of some coffee. {Shout out to my favorite coffee shop ever, Monkey Love in Pooler, GA [now closed - what I'd give for one more taste!] and the best writing teacher at AASU, Dr. Nancy Remler.}

The lack of coffee shop time has actually been one of the harder adjustments to motherhood. {Josh and I have already begun conversations about how to create a coffee shop vibe in a corner of our next home.}

I spent hours upon hours inside the Starbucks at Montgomery Cross. Just sitting with a paper. Letting ideas simmer. Arguing what I didn't believe. Speaking in an unfamiliar voice about unfamiliar things. Polishing. Talking to myself. Eking a lesson plan out of nothing. [It is worth saying that I spent equal time perched on my bed or upon Monkey Love's purple couch reading great works of literature, new and old. Writing of importance does not exist in a vacuum. We must read important to write important.]

Oh, how I miss it! Even the deadlines and the up-all-night. {Do NOT hear me saying I want to go back to traditional school. That is the furthest from the truth. I am in school right now of a much purer kind - learning my family and my place.} Mostly I miss the comfortable coffee house that felt like home. I'd spend the day there - eavesdropping - getting to know my neighbors. Mostly I miss the writing.

This space has been there for me when I felt alone and unheard. When I felt like I'd never write anything important again.

On those unimportant days, I would open my computer and tell it about my son or my God or just about how life is hard. Maybe I'd proofread; maybe I'd hit publish; maybe I'd care who read it. But I would write, and it felt good.

So I continue.

Knowing that the days are evil and that every second of my time is valuable to my God (especially to the lives of one little and one tiny person), I asked for His vision for my blog.

He responded with two familiar words (even more familiar paired together):

Coffee House.

Together the LORD and I hashed out a few guiding principles for my blog.

1. It's important to God and me that this space is not about me. Yes, I will write about myself and tell my own story. But no, I'd rather it be a safe place for you, my readers. I hope that you'll imagine yourself entering a coffee house as you read these words. Imagine embarking upon an hour-long conversation with a friend, old or new. Feel free to comment. Feel free to email me. Feel free to engage me on social media. If I hit publish on a post, it means that it is for you. I blog because I long to be an encouragement, that my life would count in the lives of others.

2. God gives each of us gifts to share. Some people are extremely organized and help others successfully get in and out the weather. (I need you.) Some people are great cooks who fatten us up and share the recipes. I am simply vulnerable with my life and heart. Ashley Beam is an open book and always has been. I am mostly unafraid to share my struggles, my tender spots, my strengths, my story. Vulnerable is the way God made me. Vulnerable is the way God wants me to write. I write with Matthew 5:3 in mind. I'd sip coffee with you the same.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

3. Inasmuch as this space is about others, I am still the one who puts in the effort to write. God made it clear to me that it is to be a place of rest and refreshment. Writing for me is not be burdensome. Writing for me is therapy. I hope that the reading is therapeutic for you. After all, there is healing to be found; we must only touch His garment.

4. This blog follows my thoughts and my own life journey. There are many things that I do not do well. There is one thing that I endeavor to do with all the energy and excellence He supplies. I am Mama. I will always write about being Mama. I will write about cloth diapering and the funny sayings of John. More than that, though, I am after the hearts of my children. I recognize that these little hearts are eternal, and I will answer for the way that I tended each of them during these young years. I hope to be an encouragement and a teammate to fellow Mamas. I hope to live what I write.

"Help us not to get so caught up in mundane parenting issues that we forget to focus our children's hearts on your kingdom."

(Prayer written by Sally Clarkson in The Ministry of Motherhood, pp. 76-77)

5. Jesus. "For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified" (1 Corinthians 2:2). May He be evidenced in everything I say.

I invite you to come on in to this little coffee house, take a long, sweet sip and open your hearts to whatever God has in store. Here's to two more years of close fellowship!

The Mission of Motherhood: My Second Takeaway

Last month I read The Mission of Motherhood, a practical and inspiring resource by a dear sister and respected mentor in the faith, Sally Clarkson. I devoured every page. Underlining. Amen-ing in the margins. Highly recommend. (You can read my first life-altering takeaway here.)

I am currently reading Clarkson's The Ministry of Motherhood. I highly recommend this book also (based on what I've read so far) and I might unwittingly share some of the things I'm learning therein. Note: Her books are soooooooo good.

Takeaway #2: Parenting with the end in mind, I aim to be friends with my children above all else.

To me, this sounds sort of counter-cultural. To some of you it might be a duh statement, but where I grew up, I heard many-a parent talk about how they are their child's parent NOT their child's friend. They spoke as if the two exclude one another: If you're parent, you can't be friend, and vice versa.  I have always had a hard time resonating with this sentiment because my mama has always been my best friend. She carefully laid the foundation of friendship in our relationship, and I wholeheartedly agree with her approach. Let me explain.

I have come to believe that I set the primary example for my children in EVERYTHING. {This scares it out of me, y'all.} I am John's most visible example of how to keep his room clean and his crap organized (uh-oh). I am to John's daily example in how to spend time with God and participate in a dynamic relationship with Him. I am John's first and enduring example of what true friendship looks like.

Yes, I aim to invite him into my friendships. As John sees Mama participating with other women and with his daddy as a strong friend, he can glean what he will about the type of friend he is to be. However, how much more powerful and memorable my example will be if I show him how to be a friend by being his own, his very first best friend!

I've begun affirming my son every day, multiple times a day of my love for him and my friendship with him. Our conversation goes like this:

On our V-Day date at Chick-fil-A alllll the way in Ohio

"I love you, John."
"I love you, Mama."
"You're my best friend, John."
"You're my best friend, Mama."

We often whisper these words as sweet-nothings in each another's ears. He's two, but I mean every word. And I know he means what he says with the same strength and love. We are best friends. I pray that we will always be.

I recognize that a day will come when John is a teenager and then a man.
I recognize that he will need me and his daddy to be firm with him at times. (Rare times because firm is not really in my repertoire.:)
I recognize that John may not look at me as his best friend every day of his life.
I recognize but I do not fear.

The important work of kissing John (as he repeatedly presents me with his cheek), affirming John, delving into John's interests and introducing him to mine (hello, Starbucks), generally being a good friend to John is laying the foundation for him to establish healthy and intimate bonds in the future. I am parenting with John's future wife, children, and close friends in mind. I want my boy to understand how to love them well.

More than that, I know that I am (as Sally puts it) "instilling in [John] a deep experience of God by modeling his unconditional love and acceptance" (p. 131). I am John's first teacher of what God is like. I can either fail miserably at this by being demanding, a nag, easily angered, and keeping a record of his wrongdoings OR I can provide John with the security of knowing a loving, patient, and gracious mama who models God's love and acceptance toward him. I long to provide my boy the latter.

Even now, John and I carry on daily (strange) conversations. He is deeply interested in the alphabet, so we talk about "the sticky letters" (vowels) as he proudly names all five of them and tells me about all the cartoon characters who love vowels. We frequent coffee shops and draw/color shapes together. John is proud that he's learning the difference between hexagons and octagons. He also loves it when I tell him what letter all of his favorite people's names start with. We talk as we push trains across the kitchen "chicken" floor (and "couple them up") about which trains are strong, which are smart, and which are working together as a team. We talk about who will top John's over-priced birthday cake this year and we clap loudly and wildly and laugh uncontrollably when John tee-tees in the potty. Every single day, we chat about what we'll do together outside when the weather warms - visit the tigers at the zoo, fly his first kite, go swimming; this is our favorite topic of conversation! We sit and thank God together for each other, for Daddy, for horses, letters, numbers, and shapes, for fries and ketchup, for bagels and cream cheese "sauce" (our picky eater's current obsession). We affirm each other. At first, I did all the affirming: "John, I love you," "Of all the two-year-olds in the world, Mama chooses you," "You are my favorite, John. You're my best friend." And my favorite, which I breathe in John's hearing several times daily, "Thank you, God, for John." Nowadays I am beginning to hear my son affirm his love for me with deep affection and lots of hugs and kisses. This mom life is wonderful!

... A man reaps what he sows. (Galatians 6:7)

Much of my time spent with John and many of our conversations look and sound nothing like the deep heart encounters that I imagine our future holding. I am laying the foundation. I am sowing into my boy now the kind of relationship I hope to reap our whole lives long. Love. Encouragement. Humility. Vulnerability. Grace. Affection. Deep commitment. These are words that I hope describe John and Mama as long as we live.

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. (John 15:12-14)

And the biggest deal of all is that I model to my son how to love God by loving him as Jesus loves. To lay down my life for my sweet, small friend that he may one day lay down his life for his own. LORD, help me.

I firmly believe that being John's friend and his parent are so intertwined that one cannot cancel out the other. However, if being a parent means that I rule him as the authority, the wise one, the know-it-all, I'm not really that interested. And if being a friend means that I offer what little I know to my sweet son (and my future wee ones) with humility and courage knowing that God ultimately takes care of my children (My only real responsibility becomes listening to God who has my son's best interest and loving this kid like crazy.), well, in that I am very interested.

And because the Word of God is always informing my parenting choices, here are some verses that are helping me form my convictions as Mama-friend:

You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Now we know that God's judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere human being, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God's judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness is intended to lead you to repentance? Romans 2:1-4

This reminds me to invite John into my own spiritual discipline. I often apologize to him when I lose my temper and help him to understand why Mama was wrong. I feel that this practice helps when I have to ask John to apologize to me and correct him for wrongdoing. He knows that we are in this discipleship process together as friends. I aim to not show contempt for God's riches toward me by judging my son. Mercy triumphs over judgment (James 2:13) and kindness leads us to repentance (a deeply-held mind change about our behavior). How I long to be kind and merciful with John that he might be led to a humble, repentant, exhilarating relationship with Father God!

The next two verses don't need such explanation.

Be completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love. Ephesians 4:2

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1 Peter 4:8

Amen!

{This post touches lightly on the topic of childhood discipline [the d-word makes me cower, but it's really just the practice of guiding our children well]. I am sort of an amateur in this department, so Josh and I are soon starting the Clarksons' book on discipline. I'm excited! Always something to learn.}

My Journey with Infertility

I got pregnant on the first try with John.
My husband joked that us getting pregnant was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

We tried to get pregnant with Baby in July of last year.
We failed.
We then decided we'd put off trying until the beginning of 2014.
Surprise! In early October of 2013 we lovingly gazed at those two precious pink lines that equal the tiny one packing the winter pounds on me currently.

We are fertile.
My period comes like clockwork.
I discern my cycle day based on my level of emotional stability without ever peeping at a calendar.
We are very blessed.

I have watched a very dear friend and a very dear family member struggle to be as I am.
Fertile.
With a clockwork cycle.
{Maybe they endeavor to be more emotionally stable. Yes, and I am certain they both are! Ha!}

I have prayed.
I have sought to mourn with them and rejoice with them.
{They've both been pregnant and God has even given a precious baby boy celebrating his second birthday soon!}
I have also been pregnant before them.
My big belly, my pregnancy aches (the literal kind) and complaints, my newborn - all for their eyes and hearts to take in.
I've done all of this totally imperfectly, and required much grace.

I try not to write how-to posts or give too much advice on my blog because I believe that we are all invited to a dynamic, personal relationship with Jesus Christ. We are given opportunity to follow Him, and He will inevitably lead us down different paths. I do, however, think I've learned some valuable lessons through my own journey with infertility. My journey has involved observing my dear ones sensitively and prayerfully and also examining my own heart in how God would have me relate to them. I am reminded through this journey that God works every single thing for good - whether or not a precious baby ever enters the world. For what it's worth, here are my thoughts.

1. I learned that our difficulties are just as varied as we are. 

I wonder often as I pray for my unborn why I get to be the gal who gets pregnant easily with healthy children. {Note: John has never thrown up in his life. He's almost three. What the what?!} How do I get off so easy? With healthy pregnancies? Healthy {and precious} babies? It's a little much to take in when I read about so many losses, so many children perpetually suffering, so many mommies on bed rest or visiting their babies in the NICU. I can't understand God's precise purpose, but I know that He works mighty through trials.

James (Jesus's little bro) makes a bold assertion in the first statement of his letter to Jewish Jesus-followers: "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds" (James 1:2).

Trials are literally a gift from God to develop us. To perfect us. To cause us to share Jesus's look.
I have to remind myself that the burden of infertility is God's gift to my dear friends. It is NOT a reason to feel sorry for them, but a reason to take heart. Both of these women walk with Jesus, the Overcomer of the world. It makes me excited to see God's perfect heart for them as He literally gifts them with a trial for their good and for the good of many, many others.

Last night I took an Influence Net class from a sweet lady named Ellen (not my first class from her, mind you; she's a great Bible teacher! If you're missing sound instruction on issues of faith or even practical issues such as mothering, blogging, or organization, consider taking a $10 Influence Network class. Totally worth it!). The theme of the class was crushing the evil little womanly habit of comparison. I struggle mightily with comparing myself with other women - especially in the arena of mothering (my most important job). Ellen made a great point that God assigns various "rough places" to various women. We are all on an individual discipleship journey and we are all uniquely loved by God toward unique wholeness. {Translation: Each of our final portraits will be different, all lovingly brushed - stroke by stroke - with divine paint and divine design.} We need not compare if we rest in how wildly, crazily loved by God we are! Even (and especially) those of us struggling through infertility.  Also, my rough place is not better/worse/easier/harder than yours. It was carefully chosen for me by God Himself because of His great love for me! The same applies to you, sister.

Therefore, I praise you, Father, for infertility. If I am ever faced with this specific trial myself, remind me to consider it pure joy! For now, I consider winter, the aches of pregnancy ice falls, the always being indoors, and the tough diaper rashes pure joy. I know that you want me complete in Christ. Thank You for your perfect Father heart towards me during this season. In and through Jesus {with joy}, I pray.

2. I learned just how selfish I am!

I got pregnant for the first time in September of 2010. Being the oldest grandchild I always thought that I would have the first baby. However, exactly two years before learning that I was pregnant, my sister learned that she was expecting. And exactly two years before telling my sister that I was making her Aunt Calley for the very first time, she slid a hand-written note across the Pooler Huddle House table which read, "You're going to be an aunt!!!" This was the best news! My response was complete euphoric jubilation! My arms flew over my head in victory! My nephew (mercy, I wanted a nephew) was on his way!

Though Mason was a surprise, he was a most welcome one. My sister (also in the fertile camp) knew how I relished being firstborn. (Face it, y'all; we're special.) She asked me once if I was upset she got pregnant before me. My one-time response? NO.WAY. I cannot imagine life without (or even life before) Mason. I know I loved my sister and related to her back when, but my love for her multiplied times 8 million on Sept. 30, 2008 - the day my heart embraced the role of aunt.

On gender reveal day, my Mama, Aunt Lise, Gram, Cal/Mase, and me packed into a small ultrasound room to await the news. I had on a blue t-shirt, blue pj pants, a blue sports bra, blue undies, blue socks, blue tennies, even my pony tail was wrapped in blue. I was ready to meet my boy! My nephew. And there he was. I cried as the nurse began to talk to Mason and call him by name. Never had my heart been so full!

I threw an epic party for Mason & Calley prior to his arrival: March Madness for Mason. We had everything basketball. I drained my bank account to make it absolutely perfect. We invited 75 people to the relatively small ranch-style gals' ministry pad where I lived. I think around fifty showed up. Calley was so cared for during her pregnancy. I bought everything I could. I cherished every minute with her, that sweet sister carrying my nephew.

Mason's birthday came quick! May 28, 2009. I slept through about seventeen phone calls from my mama denoting that they were on their way to the hospital. Umm. It was like 5 o'clock in the morning {in my defense}. The day was like a whirlwind. Nurse Sarah in and out - firing up Pitocin. Calley was the nicest she's ever been in her life even before she was drugged. She labored for twelve hours without the epidural, and at about 4 centimeters she finally requested the long-feared needle bliss. Within an extremely short period of time (Note: I was in the waiting room eating doughnuts with Lisa, Christen, Gram and Grandma Wendy planning my wedding while we thought Calley was sleeping.), she dilated to 9.5, started pushing, and Mason's heart rate drastically dropped. Having been warned by God weeks earlier that Calley's labor would not be without hiccups, I was not surprised when my mama met me at the door in scrubs requesting that we come collect Calley's belongings so that they could clear her room for someone else. She was headed to the OR. {Insert great story about Calley removing oxygen mask to comfort my hysterical aunt. Haha! Fun times; we thought Lisa would need a heart transplant after this experience.} I remember kissing her head and telling her I would pray. Everything - assuredly - would be fine. I exited quickly, found Mama down the hallway awaiting her fate as guest in the operating room. I'm sure I blew her a kiss too. In the waiting room, I paced and prayed. {I remember feeling special that God included me on this little secret - this little trial (gift) coming to fruition in my sister's life.} Mason was soon wheeled to the waiting room door by his Meme and a nurse. He was told how loved he was by Jesus and how much he looked like his A (he did/does).

I spent all my time at the hospital over the coming days. Also taking trips to Babies r us picking up forgotten/unknown necessities. Grabbing food. Repeatedly moving Mama's car. Every time I entered the Mother-Baby ward of Candler Hospital my arms were overflowing. I remember staying until one in the morning - holding Mason while rocking the weight of my body and his back and forth (because no rocking chair?!? We had the tiniest room in the hospital, I am certain.) so his mama and Meme could sleep. He would only sleep in my arms with constant rocking - this is my most treasured memory.

Photo: Hannah and Randall Photography
Sisters on Mink's Wedding Day 12/15/13
13 weeks pregnant

Thus, when I got pregnant, I expected. It was ugly, really, but I thought everyone was supposed to get their turn. Their moment in the spotlight. Their chance to be the spoiled pregnant gal/new mama. Don't get me wrong, I got quite a lot of attention. {By a lot, I mean more than many get from their family during their entire lifetime. I am quite blessed with a great support system.} However, I always found myself wanting more. That's how selfishness works, you see; it's never satisfied. Never good enough. I also have this little personality trait working against me: I like to be the center of attention. I believe that every facet of my personality is both a strength and a weakness. (For instance, we wouldn't have enjoyed Olympic figure skating last night were it not for people like me who enjoy thrive off of attention.) During pregnancy, my attention seeking was a major hindrance. I expected very unrealistic things. I wanted to be the only pregnant person in America. Or if I couldn't be the only, I at least wanted to be the most special. It was my first, after all. How dare anyone else get pregnant and rain on my parade? #ridiculous

All the while, someone very important to me kept getting more and more bad news in her loooonnnnnngggg struggle to get pregnant. In my selfishness, I wished everyone could just forget about the infertility and focus on the excitement and anticipation happening in my life, in my womb.

I have since learned that in God's society expecting is equivalent to the Law. I was holding people to a standard impossible to meet. Grace is - if not the opposite, at least - very different from high expectations. Grace says, who cares if you don't meet my standards? God made a way for us all to be perfect and loved before Him. I have learned to drop my expectations and be surprised by God when He uses His own to willingly bless us as we anticipate the coming of this new bundle! I have such peace and security in Jesus. He cares for me, my son, and my soon-to-be so well on the daily. I am also so thankful to share my pregnancy with many dear friends who are also expecting.

One of the first verses I ever memorized was Galatians 2:20. While all that this verse implies is life-altering, I remember being far more impressed with verse 21, therefore, I remembered it also.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (21) I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!

These verses tell us that we have every need met in Christ. He lives in us. This is wild and I experience His benefits every. single. day. These verses tell me that my righteousness rests completely on Jesus's shoulders (I don't have to worry about it!) and that when God looks for anything righteous in me, He bypasses Ashley (remember, she's dead) and gazes on His One and Only Son. Miraculous! These verses tell me that it is altogether unnecessary to set aside grace. This is true because it is true that our righteousness is a gift we did not work for. That means our righteousness is grace. As Christ's ambassador, therefore, I do not want to set aside grace in my life I live in my body. I live in grace - both giving and receiving. I do not live under Law: demanding and expecting. Uh-uh. No ma'am.

When I place expectations on others, when I keep a record of wrongs, when I look to others for my own validation, I am living under Law.  I am communicating to people that you gain right standing before me if you perform to my liking. How hypocritical! When we were still sinners, Christ died in our place. No performance necessary. Still, knowing that I cannot please my Father in my own flesh, I demand others to please me. When I live in this way, I am NOT giving a clear picture of Who God is to me and Who He can be to others. Forgive me, Father. I long to give grace to everyone I meet as You so selflessly do for me. Help me, Holy Spirit, by Jesus's strength and in His Name.

3. I have learned to be open and sensitive. (Note: still learning)

Unfortunately, infertility is often the gift that keeps on giving. I believe that my God is still working. As my friends continue to struggle (and celebrate), I have learned that I need to be open with them about what God is doing in my heart. This may not be best practices for everyone; however - as if you didn't know - I'm kind of an open book. It would be totally counter to my personality (therefore really weird in the sight of my friends) not to share the details of what God is doing in my life. Sure, there are times when I need to apologize for words carelessly spoken (ummm that would be true of me everyday), but I find it far better to open up and protect the relationship than to cut someone off for the purpose of perceived "self-protection." I boldly believe that God is my Protector (and theirs).

In the same breath, I also aim to be sensitive. I do not have this figured out. However, I believe that as Jesus's own, I am accountable to consider how to spur my sisters on toward love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24). I am not to spur them on toward bitterness and resentment, thus, the consideration. I try to ask myself how I would want to be loved if I were in their shoes. My constant answer? I would want to have a friend who pursues me, who cares for me, who never ignores me.

I praise God for the gift of infertility. You may not know it, dear sisters engaged in the struggle, but I have benefited so much from your fight. God has been pruning and refining me as my belly swells and as I daily enjoy baby kicks and as I hope to continually love and encourage you. It it my privilege to walk with you regardless of how many or how few children God gives either of us. I see your God-given mother's heart! That heart has been a blessing and a guide to me as I mother my young. Thank you for letting me in. I love you. Very much.

Twenty-Eight

The past year has been emotionally draining. And hard.
It has also been my favorite year of my son's life.
OHemGEE I love having a two-year-old.

I think it only right to give thanks. To remember what the LORD has done.
Twenty-eight gifts of God's glorious grace.

1. My surprise baby. I planned to get pregnant and give birth during 2014. Only God. He had other plans. He has let me in on a couple of His secrets ... just why he chose to give me a summer 2014 baby rather than a fall 2014 baby. I am already sooooo proud of this kid! I also understand completely why second-borns are typically slightly wilder and just-in-general rough around the edges. While John was (almost) never exposed to caffeine, second-hand smoke, or ice falls - well - this babe will be all kinds of awesomely tough. Haha! Here's to all the baby number twos who've gone before and paved the way for my little blessing!

2. Baby daddy. He dealt with the worst PMS of my life this year followed by pregnancy hormones. He does it with style. What a man!

3. Conflict. God has a unique discipleship plan for each of us. Mine has involved quite a bit of friction in one precious relationship. Everything that God allows in my life is for my good, y'all (Romans 8:28). Everything. And especially this. Praise you, Father, for using our hardships and confrontations to bathe us in your grace, to expose your strength!

4. Reconciliation. I'm not perfect. Thanks be to God that He made us (in His likeness) able to forgive and forgive again, to give grace upon grace. I don't deserve it. I'm thankful!

5. Books. Reading the thoughts and pondering the hearts of writers draws me closer to my Father.

6. Jesus Calling. This devotion has been a game changer. Thank you for your attentive ear, Sarah Young. Your writing blesses me daily.

7. My iPhone. Josh and I don't normally do anything special on Valentine's Day, but last year our dear friends offered to keep John and we went on a date to Verizon to upgrade to smart phones. {Don't worry. After our phones were activated, we did go for coffee together. But yes. We are those people who don't know how to "date."} My iPhone allows me to group text with my sister, my mama, and my aunt everyday. I am also able to connect with many on social media because of my mobile device. As a young extroverted mama, I praise God for smart phones!

8. Divorce. God says, "I hate divorce" (Malachi 2:16). I tend to agree. BUT I cling to the promise that God is working everything for my good. He is daily carrying His purpose for me to completion. Divorce played a huge role in my coming to Jesus. It continues to bring me back to Him with tears, failure, weakness. {For those of you who don't know my story, my parents are divorced. This is tough and good (because God is good). My husband and I, however, are very happily married.} Father, while I hate divorce, I praise You for the good which comes from it! The breaking and healing of my heart.

9. My job. No, not the mothering one. (Get to that in a minute.) I worked part-time for Better Life Bags for the better part of 2013. The friendships that were made and deepened. The getting out of my house. The skills acquired. The weaknesses realized. All of this was good.

10. My calling. This year I finally realized that when God made me Mama, He called me to the ministry of motherhood {so dear to His heart; see Psalm 127:3}. I finally arrived at a place of resting in my role. I need no extracurricular activities. It is enough to commit my all to John and Ben/Sarah {in the same way Jesus committed Himself to the twelve}. Hallelujah!

11. John's summer naps. Sweet, sweet fellowship with God.

12. Starbucks. And let's be real. Drive-thru Starbucks. I've hardly drank it since October 9 BUT there was a lot of Starbucks consumption last year. I have no shame. I might drink one of their most fattening offerings, but I drink it gladly as that sweet nectar helps me keep up with my precious one so well. Thank you, Starbucks - making us better mothers.

13. Winter. Truly hard and humbling and frustrating and isolating and looooonnnnnnngggggg. I despise Michigan winter. And yet winter has helped me recognize my complaining spirit. It's helped me embrace summer. It's made me a (moderate) lover of the outdoors. Truly appreciative of the sun {when it's visible}. It has forced me to slow down. To gain lots of baby weight. To have countless nutritious meals at home with my boys. Though I say it begrudgingly: Thanks, Father, for winter. It is hard and making me holy.

14. Traverse City, Michigan. Favorite trip ever. We camped. We got dirty. We sat in the edge of Lake Michigan's cool waters. #bucketlist We laughed together. We ate too much. We pushed John on animal swings for hours. It was bliss. Summer of 2013's last hurrah. Can't wait to see you again, TCMI.

15. Extended breastfeeding. 'Twas the ride of my life. I cannot wait until brother Benjamin or sister Sarah latches!

16. Walking. I adore walking. Sometimes I wish that I was a more active, higher energy gal. But ya know, I enjoy taking things slow. I like to walk. And I walk. A lot. I thank God that Hamtramck is such a walk-able city.

17. Love of reading. John's love of reading, that is. We spend hours reading together. Taking adventures through stories. Meeting new creatures. Barnes & Noble is our home away from home. I'm so thankful for the family members who sent John gift cards; he oft leaves the boo-kah-tee with printed treasures.

18. Grace Himself. There were really, really hard days last winter/spring. I was depressed. It was cold. It was still cold in April. Were it not for the grace of God I'd be condemned based solely on the caliber of mama I was on some of those days. Your grace is glorious, Father. My only hope.

19. My best friend. Josh never gives up on me. He made me so happy this year. Even in the midst of hardship, he made my day. Father, I do not deserve such a rare man. You are good to me!

20. His presence. Josh isn't always there. You are. Thank you, Father; I'm learning, slowly learning to acknowledge and absolutely bask in Your presence.

21. My need. God taught me that my need is not a bad thing. He taught me that the fact that I must return to Him daily, moment-by-moment (because I am prone to wander) is His gift. The failures. The disorganization. The overwhelming emotions - His gifts to keep me oft connected to Him as need drives us toward the Giver of grace. Thank you, Father. I am all kinds of jacked up and it is okay.

22. Boys! I love boys. I have no idea what I'll do if this baby is a girl. (Part of me hopes it's a girl so I can relate to girls/get excited about girlish things. Many of my friends have girls and I. just. don't. relate.) I am obsessed with boys. If I stop to talk to a cute kid in Target, chances are it will be a little boy. I'm ruined. God knew what I needed. John Ash, what I needed was you.

23. Being a high school teacher's wife. I went to prom. John and I can be found week nights at either basketball or baseball games (depending on the season). Love meeting Josh's students! So fun! I am so proud of the example Josh is to these kids.

24. Talking John. He is so hilarious. The kitchen = the chicken. Daddy can "fisk" (fix) anything. Miss-mas is his favorite holiday. "I love you, Mama. You're my best friend," is my favorite saying of John's. No one told me how hard he'd make me laugh. What a joy!

25. Going big before going home. Winter 2014 has been truly epic. Most snow ever accumulated in a single month in the D: January 2014. I'll endure (almost) anything for a good story. This winter boasts many stories.

26. Listening & Inner Healing Prayer conference. This was the biggest (and best) conference of the sort to date. What a blessing to be a part of it! God really has used my ability to quiet myself and open my ears/heart to speak healing into my life. If you ever get the chance to go to this conference, DO IT!

27. Phone conversations with Mama. I talk to her everyday. No one can know what about. Ha! I love being her daughter, her partner; we're learning to love people and never, never give up.

28. Little Mr. Beam. John is the icing on the cake and the cake itself! My how God uses this tiny person to grow and shape and soften me! I am in love. I am in awe. I treasure John. Thank you, Father. He is the perfect firstborn for me.

{One to grow on}: Baby kicks! Because they're precious and remind me that this year is gonna be the best yet!

A Word for 2014

It's February. I know.

I am acutely aware of this month because it means that I become one year older.

On this day, 28 years ago, my lovely mama was miserably pregnant and due.
My birthday is yet a week away.
Love you, Mama.

Sometimes it seems that the new year begins in February.
January has always been my least favorite month.
Not a month brimming with possibility and newness, but a month filled with winter.

It's still winter in February, you say.
Correct, but in February, I celebrate - for at least a week.
It's necessary this time of year - the celebrating - so I thank God for my birth.
{The rest of my blessed family was/will be born in summer, the blessed season.}

Also, it may take me a minute to get to the point of this appointment with my laptop.
I need a moment to record my thoughts on this winter (one reason for this post's tardiness).

In early January, Josh and I returned to Michigan for the most snow I've ever seen. (I think it was like eight inches. Anyway, it looked like a lot.) I stayed in my house for days on end (from Saturday night until my doctor's appointment on Wednesday to be exact). Josh only went to school two days his first week back.

A word of thanks: I am thankful that we had such rich family time together. Usually when we return from a trip to Georgia, I have a very tough time getting back into the swing of things. With Josh being home for the majority of that first week back, I had a much smoother transition. I am also very thankful that our home is mostly warm.

The remainder of January was a blur. I know that school was cancelled a handful more times (mostly due to windchill temps falling below -20). Josh and John both wiped out on our slippery sidewalks. Mama was fortunate to suffer no falls during the month of January.

A word of thanks: My anatomy scan (ultrasound) had to be cancelled by my doctor's office on its originally scheduled date. It was rescheduled for Monday, January 27, an unexpected snow day for Josh! I am so thankful that we got to experience at least one ultrasound together (though it was uneventful and no gender was revealed) during this pregnancy.

February came in messily. On the first day of the month, we had a snowy Saturday with some accumulation followed by the temperate rising above freezing and an afternoon filled with steady rain. At nightfall, the temperate dipped again (of course) leaving our sidewalks a slick sheet of ice. Yuck! The next couple of days were delightful (who am I?) with highs in the twenties.

But yesterday, John and I awoke to unrelenting snow and white-out conditions. (Our little preschool/English school classes were cancelled.) At 12:30 p.m. when we walked outside to prepare for our doctor's appointment (ya know to dig the van out), our shovel was nowhere to be found and we were dealing with a whole lot more snow than anticipated. I came back inside to collect my thoughts. After wading through the snow a second time, I decided to just put John in the van and crank her up. (When I ask John if it's hot or cold outside, he no longer answers. When I ask John if it's hot, cold, or freezing, he responds immediately, "Freeeeeeezing!" He responded yesterday.) I brushed a huge lot of snow of my back windshield and got in after talking to my neighbor about how he didn't think we'd make it out. I told him that I was about to get in my van and cancel my doctor's appointment. He wanted to help me, but at this point, I didn't have enough time to make it to my appointment and the roads (from what I could see) were terrible, snow steadily falling down.

I was frustrated. I may have already been crying while talking to my neighbor, my jeans wet up to my knees. I just needed a minute in my van to cry. I told John, "Mama just needs to cry." He said, "Okay." He's kind of used to this conversation with a pregnant mama and all. He's also very skilled in the art of comfort. Big almost-three-year-old with soft, understanding blue eyes. My boy.

After about 15 minutes of crying, we trudged back inside (after stopping to tell another neighbor, "No, we're NOT going anywhere." [Sigh.] No need to help us.), stripped off our pants, socks, and shoes (both of us SOAKED) and promptly got on the internet to check the price of airfare to Miami (WAY out of our price range). For the rest of the day, I was an all-around nasty person. I binged on any and all food we had in the house (sweet, salty, fruity, junky, you name it! - hey, I am pregnant!), and when Josh got home I basically hated myself and felt too miserable to move. (Of course, he went right back outside where he spent the next hour shoveling out our parking spaces. Good man.)

Wednesday, February 5 was the worst day of winter. And it was one of the worst days inside the body of Ashley Beam.

And here I am writing on Thursday, February 6 the all-encompassing word of Ashley Beam's purpose in 2014.

Of course, God has His own plans, and will do whatever He wants. (I welcome that!)

I had a word in 2013: Intimacy.
And while God did grow me in my intimacy with Him this past year, I certainly feel like my word for 2013 became engage: He taught me to live my life where I'm currently living. It was an extremely hard and stretching year. Extremely.

2014 is going to be a very weird year of transition. Thus far, my body has transitioned from a young, vibrant, life-giving (coffee-drinking) being to a daily depleted, still life-giving (decaffeinated) being. Oh yeah, and this bod's just getting bigger and bigger. Sigh.

Then there's the fact that I'm gonna give birth (God willing) mid-year. Yes, there will be some stretching and changing happening in my body at that time, but the real transition comes after birth: I'll have two kids! (I do not pretend to know how this squirmy blessing will change my life. I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT IT, THOUGH. Also excited to drink caffeine again!)

There are other transitions on the horizon for Mr. Beam and I later this year. Can't write about them just yet, but I am anxious to see what God has in store.

It is hard to choose a word for a year laden with such mystery and possibility.
So much is unknown.
This is precisely why it's taken me until February 6 to write this post.

After much consideration (and then no thought at all), my word for 2014 is
Privilege.

Privilege. I love this word.
Privilege. I long to live this word.

First thing.
Privilege defined: 1. a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people. 2. something regarded as a rare opportunity and bringing particular pleasure.

Privilege synonyms: advantage, benefit, prerogative, entitlement, right, concession, freedom, liberty, honor, pleasure

Oh, how I long to say ...
It is a privilege to wake up a new day John's mama.
It is a privilege to read this book fifteen times a day.
It is a privilege to put together the same three puzzles multiple times daily.
It is a privilege to cart (by cart, I mean carry) the laundry down to the basement daily. (This, my friends, is the worst part of laundry.)
It is a privilege to whittle down the never-ending mountain of dishes.
It is a privilege to wade through snow and skate on ice to unlock my van door.
It is a privilege to care for six kids who are not mine.
It is a privilege to plan meals for (almost) every night of (almost) every week.
It is a privilege to (almost) never leave my warm home.
It is a privilege to grow a tiny human in my own womb. (!!!)

It is my prerogative, my liberty, my honor to love and care for and nurture this little spot on planet Earth where God Himself planted me. It is my own rare opportunity, no one else's.

... Because, in fact, it is.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. (Galatians 5:1)

I can do with my freedom in Christ whatever I choose. He made me free for freedom's sake.
The question I ask myself is this: Am I living free?

The answer is almost always no.

...Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. (Galatians 5:1 cont'd)

I lived so much of my life bearing the burden of slavery.
I still live so much of my life bearing the burden of slavery.

I am a slave to my circumstances.
I am a slave to my patterns. My personality.

I continue in slavery when God is calling me to live free.

Y'all I love this ...

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. (Colossians 3:1-3)

Because of my position in Christ (ya know, seated with God), I can actually live this life simultaneously in two worlds. {This is crazy.} Even while my van and I are stuck in the snow, my heart and mind can be where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. And when every day is spent with Him, every day becomes sweet. Every day becomes my privilege.

Because the truth?

He gave me John - my gift of grace - to make me look like Himself in ways that no one else can.
He gives the snow and the (freeeeezing) winter rains. (Check out Hosea 6:3.)
He gave me the man and all his (let's be real - pregnant here) and my own dirty dishes.
He gave (ummm most definitely ... SURPRISE!) Baby to me during this specific horrifying winter season to grow and to love.

He has given so much to me.
This year it is my privilege to give back to Him.
No longer enslaved by my circumstances.
It is my ultimate privilege to live with Him.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. (Colossians 3:23-24)

Happy 2014 {finally}! It is my privilege to share with you in this space.

Any words y'all are living by this year?

My Mothering Mantra

Sometimes while reading the Bible, you just know it.

You know that many moons ago as a man named Paul was writing a letter to a certain church in Thessaloniki that {he didn't know it but} he was really writing to Ashley Beam.

That's how these verses made me feel as I read them in tandem with Sally Clarkson's The Mission of Motherhood:

But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves. 

1 Thessalonians 2:7-8

Please understand, I have read these verses dozens of times. Underlined. Studied. Even memorized the latter of the two. But. I never stopped to digest them as a mother. 

Let me just take a minute to take you into my journal.

Dissect.

gentle: affable = friendly, good-natured, easy to talk to; mild

among you: in, by, with, middle, midst

taking care: "cherisheth": to warm, keep warm

her own

affection + desire: to long for, the longing of love

share: impart, communicate

self-giving: "our own souls" - the breath of life; our feelings, desires, affections, aversions

dear: beloved, esteemed, favorite, worthy of love

These verses were written by an unmarried, childless man. 

He had never nursed a babe at his breast.

He was likely not a picture of gentleness. (I didn't know him so I can't say for sure.)

He probably had little experience with the whole son up 'til son down lifestyle. 

But he did understand.

He understood what it took me years of mothering to get.

When we parent like a mother, we will affect eternity. 

Let me take a few steps back. Not everyone who becomes a mom parents like a mother. 

Mothers do not swat their children away when asked to read the same book for the fifteenth time. 

Mothers rarely go to the bathroom alone.

Mothers are known to wake up half a dozen times a night. (Thank God the great earthly fathers do this as well. zzzzzz.) 

Mothers share with their babes the gospel of God.

Mothers share with their babes everything. (1 Thess. 2:8)

Paul knew that if we took notes from mothers while parenting spiritual children (He fathered several spiritual sons: see 1 Timothy 1:2 and Titus 1:4.) that we would yield a fruitful crop for the Kingdom of God. 

I know that if we take notes from mothers while parenting physical children, we will yield a fruitful crop for the Kingdom of God!

So, how does one take notes from a mother? Who shall we look to as a great example? 

My mom? Sure. 

My grandma? Yep. 

A few other women I know? Uh-huh. 

But do you know where I look? 

{Hint: this individual is always right and yes and amen.}

No, He wasn't ever a mother. 

Wasn't even a she.

Never married. 

{Though He never had any earthly kids, I think He's held countless babes through the night.}

His name is Jesus. 

Mother extraordinaire. 

If we are supposed to give our very selves to our children, Christ is our perfect example. He gave His day-by-day, moment-by-moment, breathing life for twelve young men who revolutionized the world. Then He gave what was left on a tree for the whole of mankind.

"Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13)

My goal as a mother is to give my life to John (and my newbie). 

One hour after his birth, at my breast, I gave. 

This morning at breakfast, one half of my bagel, I gave.

Walking into the bookstore, two hours of bliss, I gave.

Walking out of the bookstore, two new books, I gave. 

Screaming in Target, cookies he wasn't supposed to see, I gave.

Interrupted prayer time, talking about race cars and Daddy, I gave.

Fixing his plate of tacos; he didn't eat, I gave.

I do not share any of this to brag on myself. 

I struggle. 

I often flee my calling to be mother.

No, thank you, LORD. I'd rather dally on the iPhone. 

No, thank you, LORD. I'd rather waste my life.

No, thank you. No more.

I will do this calling justice if it's the last and only thing I do. 

I will be gentle among you, John. Not harsh, not easily angered, not difficult to talk to. I will aim to be your friend. 

I will be like a nursing mother to you. I will take care of you like you're mine because you are. {If I don't take care - and do it with excellence - who the heck will?!?}

John, I am affectionately desirous of you, little boy. You are my joy, my heart, my gift of grace from God Himself. I long for you with the heart and fervor of a mother. Next week, you will be my Valentine. I adore you.

I am ready to share with you the Gospel. I feel the greatest responsibility and privilege to share good news with you, Boop. 

I give you my life. You can suck my time. I am available to you. Four in the morning. I will listen. I am yours.

There's this weird little thing that goes on in my heart, though. 

Sometimes I feel the same way about grown women. 

No, I did not carry Emily in my belly for nine months (though I did give birth on her 21st birthday). 

I have never nursed Jessica Lynn (awkward ... also, she's the only gal I would write that statement about.;)

Mink has called me lots of things, but never Mommy. (Okay, she probably has called me Mommy while playing Baywatch. Note: Mink is my cousin, so I've known her long enough that it was totally cool to play Baywatch together. Right, Lil Steph?:)

I have never said to Meghan or Hannah, "I am affectionately desirous of you."

Oh, but I am. 

You see, this mothering not only applies to physically parenting, but also being the mom (or big sis) in the spiritual family. I count myself blessed to have the opportunity to share my entire life with women who love God.

Nothing fancy about it. Inspired by the divine, THAT is my mothering mantra.

Hugs, Ash

Mama & John waiting to change a poopy diaper at the bookstore. Also? 20 weeks pregnant!

What I'm Reading: February

I mentioned a few days ago that I like to read.

I also mentioned that I'm going to start writing about what I'm reading, about what I'm learning.

In order to set attainable goals for my reading during the first half of this year (My only [big] goal for the second half of this year is to bond with my new precious while nurturing my bond with the original.), I've decided to write a monthly post (y'all can keep me accountable) to document the books that I plan to finish during the month. I'm excited.

Without further adieu, here's what I'm reading in February.

Ephesians (The Apostle Paul)
I shared with y'all that I've been having a bit of a struggle lately in my consistency with reading the Scriptures. (This is a lifelong struggle for sure as I intend to be a lifelong Bible reader.) As I was typing that vulnerable sentence a couple nights back, I text a few of "my girls" to ask where they're currently reading. (We all know that I have no girls [YET?] but there are a few females on planet Earth for whom I take personal responsibility.) Jessica responded that she's just starting Ephesians. Sweet! Me too! Anyone care to join me? I'll be posting any new, significant thoughts as the LORD leads.

Hosea (Hosea, Son of Beeri)
Taylor (Mink) also responded the she'd just started Hosea. SCORE! This text has been difficult for me as a lifelong mistress hater. But God has been busy about the work of healing my heart from past wounds. God has also shown me how I am always the adulterer in our relationship and even filled me with compassion for the unfaithful woman. I am pumped to hear (and share) the new insights He has for me.

The Gospel According to Matthew (Levi, Disciple [maybe])
Because I try to consistently read the life and teachings of Jesus.

Kisses from Katie (Katie Davis)
The story of a young Jesus-follower who left the comforts of an upscale Nashville adolescence for the slums of Uganda. Along the way, she founded Amizima Ministries and took in over a dozen Ugandan girls as her own. As someone who struggles to show compassion to the suuuuuuuper needy (you know - the bleeding, HIV positive, absolutely poor), I am both excited and nervous about the ways in which this book shifts my paradigm.

The Ministry of Motherhood (Sally Clarkson)
After reading the Mission of Motherhood last month, I cannot wait to dive into another Clarkson book chockfull of mothering wisdom. (I'll have to wait as it's on order from Amazon. Patience.) I am even more excited about this book than I am about all that I learned from The Mission .... because The Ministry ... promises to focus on the example of Jesus with His disciples and all that His patterns and teachings lived out alongside His men can teach us about our influence with the little disciples God has entrusted. Yippee for round two with Mrs. Clarkson!

Paper Towns (John Green)
I failed to mention my final two purposes for reading: 1. My own entertainment because, let's face it, winter is dreadful most any way you slice it for a South Georgia pregnant girl in Michigan. Sometimes we need an escape. (I read and John colors my book pages with his crayons. Win-win.) 2. I read to bond with my husband. Josh loves to read, and John Green is one of his favorite writers humans and I've yet to read anything the man's written! (Note: Josh has never read Jane Eyre, so we're even.) This year, I intend to read Josh's favorite Green novels in the order in which he loves them (his favorite first). He has already decided which I'll love the most/least. We'll see if he's right in a few months (maybe weeks ... we'll see how good they are as he couldn't put them down and finished each in a matter of days). Yep. A good little bonding exercise for my marriage.

So, there you have it: What I'm reading - February edition. What about you? What are you reading to pass this dreary miserable month during which I was born? Haha!

Happy February!