I am really bad at being bad at things. I credit this to my perfectionistic, ultra-competitive, slightly obsessive personality. I'm starting to realize how boring, routine, and predictable this has made my life. Really guys, I only do things that I think I'm good at or that are familiar. I think it's driving my adventurous (yet oh so patient) husband slightly batty. Every week is pretty much the same, we eat the same foods and go to the same restaurants, we walk and bike the same paths, play the same games, and do activities I think I'm good at...BORING and kind of obnoxious (if you play one round of Bananagrams with me you will know why).
The sermon on Sunday really challenged me to think about the way I live my life. The biggest takeaway was that I am hesitate to share the gospel because my life isn't perfect. "We think the witness to the power of the gospel is how good our lives are. If our witness is our lives are perfect and we have it all together, then our witness tells others to follow God to get a perfect life. You don't follow God to get a perfect life, you follow God to get Jesus. When we lead with our goodness and success we are no longer preaching the gospel, we are preaching idolatry and the goodness of our lives instead of the goodness of our God." Guilty. I am striving so hard for perfect and I am so far from it. "One of the brightest billboards of the sufficiency and grace of Christ is your weakness not your strengths." My failures are my biggest opportunity to share the gospel and I'm not allowing myself fail all that often (or at least let it show because my marriage, parenting skills, and walk with Jesus are far from perfect). So, we are shaking things up a little bit in the Stone family. I officially accepted a job completely and totally out of the "good zone" (what I feel I'm good at). I will be working as a juvenile probation officer for Kent County. Am I going to be the best? Nope. Am I probably going to get snowed over by some smart kiddo who has endured more than I can ever imagine? Am I going to learn more about myself and my need for Jesus? Yup and yup. On a small scale, we are shaking things up every day by trying new things. If I'm not doing something new, I'm doing something out of the routine, predictableness that is my life. Last night before going to bed Austin said, "I'm so sick of doing things that are measurable, even down to how straight I'm mowing the lawn." I'm sick of it too, and I'm ready to be better at being bad. I made homemade granola bars on Monday (this was scary, because I'm SO opposite of Betty Crocker and there was a high chance they would turn out awful). I'm starting a new 4-week high intensity workout class. I don't know anyone else joining, how I'll make friends, or if I'll be the most out of shape. I might fail at a couple of things, or all of the new things I try. But boring and serious are getting way too boring and serious and it's not an effective way for me to live out the gospel.
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In May 2013, I traveled to El Salvador for a 3-week international social trip through Ferris State University. I didn't know anyone else going on the trip, but after receiving a substantial scholarship, I knew it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. The trip itinerary included tours, service learning opportunities, interviews with survivors of the civil war, meetings with governmental agencies, and a 3-day host home stay in a city called Santa Marta.
Overall, the trip was truly incredible, but 2 things summarize the trip: 1. Receiving news of Riley Gortsema’s death while on the trip and 2. One of the most vulnerable moments of my life: a 3-day host home stay in Santa Marta. Th host home experience was towards the end of our trip. Throughout the trip, I had the opportunity to connect with “E.” After knowing her for about a week I would describe her as outgoing, kind, loyal, and a kick-butt advocate. On the bus ride to Santa Marta, we made a pact to request each other as roommates for the host home stay. Looking back, it's funny how nervous we were to make such a request, but low and behold, and thankfully, our request was honored. There was no running water at our host home and the bathroom was 20 yards away from the house. Getting to the bathroom was similar to playing frogger, except you had to watch your step for chickens and roosters. Also, there was this horrifying creature on a rope at the neighbors house, which was right by the bathroom. Although I’m not a bug person, they were everywhere, and it was the least of my worries. The first night was nothing short of terrifying. At one point, Emily and I contemplated pushing our mattresses together because we were so scared. We slept maybe 20 minutes. We survived night one and joined our host home family for breakfast. E wasn't feeling good at the beginning of our stay, and passed up breakfast, which was warm milk over cereal. Wise, wise choice. I on the other hand, ate the meal. Seemed like an innocent decision for the first 12 hours. When we returned to the host home for our second, and last night, I thought about taking a sleeping pill to make the night go by quicker. As I was laying in bed trying to make the decision my stomach started making noises I didn't know were humanly possible. I looked at Emily, no words were needed, we knew this was going to be bad. Really, really, terribly bad. (Important note: it rained all of night two, leaving a lot of mud leading to the bathroom). My stomach kept making noises, and I stood up to make a dash to the bathroom. I will spare you the disgusting details, but I found myself going to the bathroom in my host-home's "yard." I physically couldn’t make it another step. This was phase 1. Phase two began shortly after, as I tried to make it to the bathroom yet again. Phase two consisted of liquid coming out of every place possible. This lasted for what seemed like hours, but I didn't have a cell phone or watch on the trip so I don't really know. Phase three thankfully happened in the outhouse. Here I am, in El Salvador, rooming with someone who was a complete stranger a week before, having the most humiliating moment of my life. I have never been so thankful for E, a hero and rad human being. Emily didn't know any Spanish, but was able to form a sentence to our host parents, "Haley is MUY MUY ENFERMO.” They called the guide staying at a different host home and she came to assist me. While I was doing my thing outside, E could have easily stayed inside and tuned out. Instead, she had toilet paper ready, and kept saying, "You're going to get through this, you are so brave, we will be back to the hostel tomorrow." E and I used to joke about this scene often. We truly don't k now if we would have survived the trip without each other. I know I wouldn’t have. I started this post in 2016, when I was going through a devotional called What Love Is and immediately thought of E. E modeled love when I was sicker than sick in El Salvador. She sat in a muddy lawn with me, supplies on hand, and told me I was going to be ok and that I was brave. I think this is exactly the type of love God calls us to. Love is really fun when it looks like planning a wedding and booking a honeymoon. Social media loves ring pics and perfect beaches. Love is great when you get to make fun purchases together and see hard work pay off. Love feels good when you’re connected, on the same page, and chasing dreams together. Love is hard when the newness of relationships wears off and it requires daily selflessness and sacrifices. Love isn’t easy to choose when your daily routine is so mundane with little recognition. Love doesn’t feel great when you feel like your dreams are so out of reach or don’t align with those you’re in relationship with. Be ready to chose love. It’s not always glamorous, it might not be Instagrammable, and honestly it might be really dirty, smelly, and uncomfortable. Love is sitting in the mud with someone until they are ready and able to get up, using your physical resources (time, money, clothing) to aid them, and verbal reassurance that together, you’re going to get through this. Oh, and reminding people how brave they are when they are scared out of their mind. Today I kind of feel like I hit my "mid-life crisis" 15 years too soon. Okay, it's not really that bad but...we didn't close on our house when we were supposed to, my job opportunity didn't line up at the right time leaving me unemployed for the past week, and to add to the cliche, I'm living in my parents basement. Oh, and baby talk, it's consuming my life.
The baby talk, it started when I first announced I was pregnant. Was it planned? Do I want a boy or girl? How am I feeling? How far along am I? Have I heard about (insert baby product name here)? Have I gained weight? Do I plan to nurse? Am I ready? Will I get the epidural? You're baby is late, are you uncomfortable? I wasn't me anymore, I was pregnant lady. Then baby came, and it got worse. I walk into a room with or without baby and the first question is, "How's baby?" How is he sleeping? Let's talk about his diaper output (I'm serious, people ask). Am I breastfeeding? He's so cute and chubby what do I feed him? Is he rolling? Is he sitting up? Does he want a sister? Wowza people. I'm not me anymore, I'm Nick's mom. I received so much advice and heard so many stories from other women about their experience of becoming a mom when I was pregnant. Yet no one, not one person told me that baby talk would take over my life and I would completely lose my identity as Haley and have it replaced by being Nick's mom. Disclaimer: Being pregnant and giving birth was the coolest experience of my life. Being Nick's mom is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love it, I hope I get to do this pregnancy, birth, mom "thing" again, and again, and again (sorry Austin, not again, and again...he wants 6 kids people). Baby talk is a gift, please don't stop talking to me about my little man. He's the best and I really do love bragging about my joyful, content, chubby, sweet baby. AND, I care about so many other things too. I love job searching and am excited about the new opportunities I will interview for on Thursday. I started some new projects and found some great thrifts while off work that I can't wait to start/finish. I'm trying to get back into running and it's hard. I was challenged by Sunday's sermon on growing personally and growing the church. All things I would love to talk about. I'm trying to find balance in my role as Nick's mom, Austin's wife, and being the other things God has created me for. It's so much harder than I expected. So please, help me find balance by sometimes talking to me about me, and letting me talk to you about you. And when you see a bulging bump, or you know someone is expecting through adoption/foster care, or recently gave birth or received a placement take time to talk to them about them. Because sometimes it's hard to know your place and purpose in the world when it's filled with baby talk-something that is still so completely new to me. |
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