I’ve grown to hate this picture.

I spent hours, maybe even days of that October, 2010, searching for the matching superman and superwoman costumes that now hang lifeless in our closet. We put them on, and it was oh so cute as my mother-in-law took our family picture, but later that night I felt the burden bear down on me hard as I walked in the doors of that adults only costume party.

You see, there was something about that costume that represented right where I was – fulfilling that role of superwoman, supermom, being everything to everyone, doing everything for everyone, being a hero to everyone but myself and my God. But that night, as I played the role of superwoman-supermom at that party, I became keenly aware it wasn’t working anymore. The room was filled with bar maids, vampires, sexy bunnies, and who knows what, but I didn’t feel sexy, I didn’t feel scandalous, I didn’t feel cunning, I didn’t feel clever, I didn’t feel cute, and I didn’t feel like superwoman-supermom either. To be honest, I felt like an out-of-place goodie-goodie girl scout who just wanted to hide away in a tent somewhere in obscurity.

And to make matters worse, I quickly discovered that not just one of my neighbors was pregnant, but three, and bless their souls, they were all there in their pregnant glowing glory. I had been battling this desire, this conflict in me for years, as to whether or not we should have a third child, but these women seemed to know so quickly, with such certainty, this destiny to parent was theirs. In the years that had passed since we had our first two children, I had seen the dark forces of this world, and I wasn’t so confident I could be that superwoman-supermom to raise another precious life safely through to the light.

So I left that party, hung the superhero costumes in the closet, and have since marked it as a turning point, a moment I needed to see the light, to see the truth about myself and who I wanted to be.

See, I don’t want to be superwoman. I don’t want to be a supermom. I CAN’T be. It’s impossible. It’s an unrealistic burden I don’t want to bear anymore.

Because a superwoman-supermom is a hero. She does it all, she’s brilliant, she’s clever, she has all the answers. She works full-time, loves her job and prides herself on doing what she needs to do; or she stays home full-time and has no longings for anything but tending her home, her husband, and her children. She buys all organic and prepares homemade dinner every night, she makes all the beds every morning, does a few loads of laundry every day so she’s always caught up, and dishes are stacked back on the shelves before bed. Oh, and her house is always clean (her toilets are always sterile and pristine white). She wakes up happy every morning and makes a hearty breakfast for her children before sending them off to school; she packs the kids’ lunches with healthy choices so they can grown up big and strong. A superwoman-supermom? She knows how to parent just-right, she disciplines and her kids listen the first time, she runs for disinfectant and bandaids when her kids’ knees are bleeding, and her kids’ principal would never think of calling. She has lots of “besties,” she’s organizes girls’ night out religiously, and she exercises five times a week in stylish LuLu Lemon gear she bought the day it arrived in the store. She volunteers and she’s needed and people are desperate to get their hands on something, anything, she has to offer. She gives and never grows weary. She’s battery operated, like an energizer bunny, who just keeps going and going and going.

I can say with confidence that on most days I’ve tried hard to be that superhero, wanted desperately to be that supermom, envied that superwoman who embodies one or many of those qualities. And that’s just WRONG.

Since formally rejecting the superwoman-supermom notion and becoming pregnant with our third child five months after the above described Halloween incident, I’ve been in transformation. I’m ready to do life differently, ready to step out of the status quo box. I’m slowly, but surely taking off the cape and am stepping into the garments of the woman I was created to be. And through faith and experience, I believe the woman I am growing into is wise, she is grounded and values depth rather than breadth, she sees into souls, she knows what she is called to do and what she is not called to do, and she knows when she needs help.

See dear ones, we’re not superheroes. No, I’m coming to embrace a notion that’s just as controversial and discussion worthy as superwomen and supermoms, but makes more sense in my new reality of cape-free living. Yes, I believe there’s truth in the notion of princess.

Marriam-Webster online definition of princess: 

2. a female member of a royal family; especially a daughter or granddaughter of a sovereign.

Here’s my premise – if I believe God is sovereign King, He knit me in my mother’s womb in His image, then I’m His daughter. Knowing this truth, I should have much more confidence as princess than I’ve ever had as superwoman-supermom.

Something rings true about this princess concept. Perhaps it’s why Disney has made millions capitalizing on princesses.

Cinderella had faith in her dreams, that “one day her rainbow [would] come.”

Ariel has “who’s its and what’s its galore,” but wanted more. She wished she could be “out of these waters,” “part of that world.”

Belle longed for something more than “this provincial life.” Immersed in stories about far off places, “behind the facade,” she was even perceived as peculiar.

And Rapunzel escaped the tower she had been trapped in all her life. She “[saw] the light,” “the fog was lifted,” and the “whole world was somehow shifted.”

There’s something deeper, something better we women, we moms long for. We want to be authentic, we want to be honest and real. We want to be known. We want to be loved and  cherished, and we want to know we are beautiful. We want to be mamas that make a difference, we want to grow souls that thrive and find their special place in this world. We want to be beautiful examples of grace and truth for our children. We want to escape the superhero cape, step into garments designed especially for us, and dance in the beauty of our true life purpose.

So two days from now, I’m launching a series titled “Special Mamas” in honor of women who want to be mamas and women who are mamas. In this 5-week guest post series every Wednesday in May, you’ll hear from a real mama who bears her heart and soul to uplift others, a mama who steps up to the plate and fights daily battles for her child, a mama who exudes joy and peace in her “bigger-than-normal-sized” family, a mama who steps outside of the traditional mama box to share her love, and a mama who endured years of trials in search of the thing she desired most – to become a mama.

Take off your superwoman-supermom cape and put on your princess garments of beauty and truth. Step outside of your box, leap down from your tower. Sit still in comfort on your Father’s shoulders. Dance with faith. Be real with me in this place. This month is dedicated to you, special mamas.

All glorious is the princess within her chamber; her gown is interwoven with gold.  Psalm 45:13

Amy

It had been a long day at work and I was on my way home, driving on the open road. The sunlight was coming through the trees just like it does in the movies, and David Crowder Band’s “How He Loves Us” was playing loud on the radio. They wrote a song from their hearts, then, there. My heart received it here, now.

I clicked on the post, just like every day, nearly three years now. Ann Voskamp, the one who has been my lifeline, the one who directs me to true north. This time, what I needed from Ann, from God, was hidden. A click within her post brought me back five months to a post I needed that day, words about God’s call. She writes the song of my heart, then, there. My heart receives it daily, here, now.

Jeremy Camp’s “Overcome” played on my iPod as I ran the track overcome by such truth, and a few minutes of complete understanding washed over me. He wrote it one day, then, there. My heart was desperate for those words, here, now.

God knew I needed the words of an ordinary woman, one that’s so human and feels a little flawed and is in need of divine direction. He brought me a humble, loving, kind one who is Simply Striving, Nikki. Her blog, a welcoming and faith-filled place, and this week, not once, but twice, the words I needed. She shared her heart, then, there. My heart needed to know it’s not alone, here, now.

These ordinary and extraordinary human beings? Courage led them to share their heart through the mediums of song and word. And I can’t help but think this is the story of my life.

It’s been one year this week since I decided to move forward, follow what I believe was a nine year call to write. Because messages and thoughts came in, and I couldn’t get them to go away. They came again and again, and I couldn’t stop thinking about all of the things I wanted to share, the things I had to say. The song was in my heart, and I began composing sentences and paragraphs in my mind. And at that point? I knew those words could no longer be stuck HERE. in my brain. NO. Those words needed to be shared. That was the call. That was God’s call. I have something to say that you need to hear. Here. In this place. On this blog.

And although maybe more posts that not this year have been more about my growth, my development, my movement towards Him, my perception of our current reality, I want YOU to know this place is for YOU. This is not just my hobby, this place has something to do with my calling. I share words from my heart, here, for YOU.

Hopes that YOU will no longer feel alone. Hopes that I speak truth, to YOU. Hopes that YOU come to this place and find rest and peace. Hopes that YOU can find depth, something greater, something better. Hopes that I speak straight to YOUR heart.

Here.

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.  John 10:14

Amy

It’s Friday, which means it’s time for another Meet Me At This Moment for Five Minute Friday post! I spend the last hour of Thursday chatting it up with a group of authentic and inspiring Five Minute Friday bloggers on Twitter (#fmfparty). One minute past midnight EST Friday, Lisa-Jo Baker gives us a single word prompt and we all write a blog post centered around that word. We write for five minutes, and five minutes only! In the words of Lisa, this is “unscripted. unedited. real.” You meet me at this moment in time…my thoughts and opinions, my joys and sorrows, my dilemmas and dreams. And I receive one of the greatest gifts ever…a regular outlet for processing and expressing my thoughts without constantly editing myself. This is my life, my perspective, unfiltered.

The word of the week is HERE.

 

I watched every episode of X Factor that year, 2011. A spunky, vivacious girl named Rachel Crow took the stage and stole the hearts of millions of Americans. There was something special about this girl, you could see it in a minute. She was born to perform, born to bring light to lives. She took 5th place in a competition that began with thousands, and her journey had just begun.

For Rachel found herself on tour with Big Time Rush and Cody Simpson the summer of 2012, and our family had the fortune of meeting her face to face! Rachel was kind and as lovely as could be with poise and social graces far beyond her early teenage years.

But after conversation and photographs with Rachel, my attention turned towards a familiar face standing next to the Nickelodeon representative at the door. It was Barbara, Rachel’s mom. I recognized her from X Factor clips! She stood there at the doorway quietly, unassumingly. And as I watched Barbara watch her daughter, I wondered how it would feel to see your daughter go from girl next door to childhood superstar in a year.

I knew I wanted to talk to Barbara, but Rachel was wrapping things up and the moments were fleeting. As I passed Barbara at the doorway on the way to the food line, my heart tugged to stop, but my head wasn’t courageous enough. I knew I just missed my opportunity. Rachel, her mom, and the Nickelodeon representative left to prep for the concert shortly after we returned to the table.

Watching Rachel on stage, I became even more curious about Barbara’s new reality as mom of this budding star. So when Rachel announced she was signing autographs after her performance, I knew it was my second chance to meet Barbara.

But I wasn’t alone! Thousands of teen girls flew to the back of the stadium and up the stairs to get in line for Rachel. In the middle of a seemingly insurmountable crowd, I finally made my way around to the front and asked security if I could just get through to talk to Barbara, but realized quickly that wasn’t going to happen.

So last weekend when Barbara and Rachel entered the Kids’ Choice Awards pre-party just feet in front of me, I knew I had been given yet another chance to meet Barbara!

I knew better than to think on it, so when I saw Barbara sit down at a table and Rachel head for meet and greet, I took the opportunity to approach Barbara right away.

Barbara was oh so gracious, welcoming and warm as I introduced myself as a complete stranger who was simply interested in her role as Rachel Crow’s mom. Barbara could have asked me to leave, called Rachel’s handler to get me out of her space, or had her friend send me away, but she didn’t.

At that moment, we talked mom to mom, like any two moms would chat on any ordinary day.

We talked about Rachel’s adoption as an infant, and how it was to suddenly live life in the spotlight. As I shared about our experience at the concert last summer, Barbara indicated how deeply her daughter loves her fans, detailing Rachel’s going above and beyond to give her fans as much access as possible on tour. We agreed that Rachel possesses a socially effervescent personality, and Barbara was quick to add that Rachel draws energy from her fans. In an effort to protect her daughter, Barbara guards Rachel’s schedule and accompanies her everywhere. Now that Rachel is recognized by so many, Barbara divulged how they managed some privacy and peace on a recent vacation. And last, but not least, we touched on the family’s faith and how that has kept them grounded the past two years.

When Barbara’s friend got up from the table, I became keenly aware that Barbara and I had been talking much longer than I anticipated. As I began my farewells, Rachel approached. I explained to Rachel that I’d like to feature her mom on my blog. Rachel agreed with much excitement and posed for this sweet picture with her mom.

I thanked Barbara kindly, wished her and Rachel all the best, and was on my way.

Mom to mom, we had talked, and I am forever honored and blessed to have experienced this encounter with Barbara (and Rachel, of course)!

Barbara, humble, kind and wise. Rachel, vivacious, lovable, and talented beyond her years. Only God could have orchestrated a union such as this. Years before the world knew Rachel Crow, He planned the beautiful coming together of an infant and a mom, both destined for big roles, together as family.

For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will—to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves.  Ephesians 1:4-6

Amy

Rachel Crow’s website can be found at http://www.rachelcrowofficial.com/. Rachel has signed a deal with Nickelodeon to star in her own musical-comedy pilot. Rachel is also lending her voice in Rio 2, slated to release in 2014! Congratulations Rachel, and may you always remain humble and true to yourself, wherever the path may lead. Many blessings to you and your mom. 

Five days have passed since I met sweet Patty. She emerged from the back like an angel, and words won’t adequately describe the way she made me feel that day. But try I must, to put this experience in words, because as I circled the mall after meeting Patty, I felt with all certainty you must hear how she moved me from a black hole of uncertain obsession to the bright light of certain authenticity.

The origins of this story bring me back in time. A special event turned dark in a moment. I felt beautiful, ready, prepared, at my best. I had planned for that day. With a glance and a handful of words, he made this intuitive soul feel little, squelched, like nothing, like I had a dull, invisible cloak all around. In that moment, I was silently shocked, taken aback. I felt so beautiful, just right, yet he so quickly managed to steal every bit of that away from me. And I knew my intuition was right. He thought little of me and for some dumb reason I cared.

So when I discovered our family had an awesome opportunity to join my husband at the Kids’ Choice Awards this weekend (yes, we’re leaving tomorrow!), I was certain this once in a lifetime opportunity would require a once in a lifetime dress! I knew I would want to feel beautiful, completely comfortable, with no regrets and no doubts about the way I experienced this very special event.

Unfortunately, in all my desiring for good, memories brought me straight back to that moment when I felt beautiful and he made me feel like nothing. Only this time, I had grown, matured. Never again would I allow someone to make me feel that way. Never again would I experience that kind of rejection. Never again would I allow someone to project so much negativity straight to my face. This time, I was going to feel beautiful for myself and for my husband who loves me with all abandon.

So the search was on! I toured malls, strip malls, and stand alone stores on a mission to find the just-right dress. Fun, hip, and a little outside my box were the words to describe this elusive dress. Orange (for the Nickelodeon orange carpet) it had to be, or blue or green maybe, but nothing fit the bill for me.

After all the searching and in my first moment of desperation, I entered my favorite store, White House Black Market on a whim. I knew there was no orange, and no blue and no green. But there was lavender they said, and lavender a complement to orange! Two wonderful souls sensed my desperation and brought me straight to the dress I needed. Fun and a little playful, it was beautiful, it really was. The dress fit me perfectly, and I did feel beautiful in that moment. It seemed just right! I brought it home and tried it on again, and my husband said it was wholly Amy. All I needed was jewelry, and I was set for the awards!

But as each day passed, I tried that dress on again and once more. Something was not quite right. Yes, it was perfectly Amy, and yes, it was a dress I’d normally buy. In fact, it was beautiful! But I knew how I wanted to feel, and the feeling wasn’t quite right.

So I tried that last stand alone store, the discount one this time. I found two dresses, both fun and hip and a little outside my box, just what I proclaimed to want. I bought them both, leaving my husband to guide. Maybe he and I would find these better? Maybe these were the solution to the lavender dress that wasn’t quite right? But the striped one was too “hipster,” and the cool hip one with navy and orange was thin and way too short, like a near 40-year-old trying to fit into a 20-year-old’s dress. Although I wanted so badly for one of these to work, it was clear they were headed for return.

You wonder where’s Patty in all this? What does Patty have to do with all this craziness? Hold on, she emerges as my earth angel in a few moments.

In my obsessive nonsense over finding the perfect dress, I just knew there was a solution. So five days ago, I set my sights on the Mall of America for one last chance (yes I have a determined, at times obsessive spirit when I set my mind to something!).

I made my rounds at the Mall of America, and had nearly surrendered. I was going to keep the lavender dress, and I had actually come to terms with it. I was happy. I was content! It was a beautiful dress from my favorite store, and it was very much a dress I would normally buy. It wasn’t quite what I was hoping for at this particular event, but oh well! I’m a perfectionist, and I just needed to get over myself and my crazy idealistic mindset.

Just one week from the event and my last outing by myself, I knew this was my last chance. I stepped foot in the White House Black Market store one more time.

I don’t believe in magic, I don’t believe things make people happy, and I don’t believe at the end of life it will matter much what I wore, but I do believe clothes can make your best self shine, clothes can make you feel completely comfortable and beautiful in your own skin. And White House Black Market is the place that makes that happen for me. Just right, every time, like their clothes are designed for me. When my obsessive self has reached an end and I think there are no other options, I enter that door and White House Black Market pulls through.

And let me tell you, White House Black Market has the most wonderful employees I’ve met.

But Patty at this Mall of America store? She was the most special I’ve met. She emerged from the back of that White House Black Market like an angel sent for me.

Her quiet but sincere compliment about the purple shirt that was barely peeking out of my coat started it off just right. I told her “thanks, I’m not much of a purple person, but my mom bought it for me and I get compliments on it all the time!” Patty assured me it looked great, and asked how she could help.

I was quick to explain I already had this lavender dress here in the back, but it hadn’t felt quite right as I tried it on this week. Our eyes set almost simultaneously at the wall on the left where a white dress with flowers hung. I hadn’t seen it before and knew it might be the one! In fact, the only dress I had seen was the lavender one, so the whole world was at my fingertips at that moment. As Patty and I pulled dresses for the fitting room, she said quietly with all conviction, “we’re going to find you something.” As silly as it sounds, all this fuss about a dress, my heart was at ease.

Seven dresses hung in the dressing room plus the lavender one at home for comparison. A feast for my eyes, I knew one of these was going to work!

Patty let me be. She had impeccable timing. The white dress with flowers was first. It was perfect! Just what I was looking for – fun yet sophisticated, and classic Amy style. Patty brought in a shrug, and the lavender shoes were much better than the nude ones she “lost me” in.

That dress was the one, and we both knew it. She brought me out of the dressing room, all put together just right. Into the black space with mirrors all around, a couple of employees passed with sincere compliments abound.

But Patty, and here’s where words aren’t adequate…

Patty, she affirmed me like no other.

The way she looked at me in that open space with mirrors was something special. Her smile, her beautiful eyes, her sincere, warm presence in that moment brings tears to my eyes five days later. She said more, but all I remember was “You. Look. Stunning.” And she looked into my eyes with all the sincerity of her heart, and I felt it and my eyes welled with tears. It wasn’t so much I felt beautiful because Patty’s comments made me feel beautiful, but Patty helped me see and believe the truth about myself. I looked beautiful, I felt beautiful, I am beautiful, inside and out. My inside matched my outside, and I felt assurance in that.

And in that moment, I saw a reflection of myself in Patty. The necklace and belt she wore were in my closet at home, but it was more than that. Patty reflects the woman I want to be, the way I want to make others feel. She made me feel so sure, so confident about myself, and she was so authentic in her presence I can’t put words to it. I have no hesitancy in my heart that she meant what she was saying, and I felt it as well. Patty wasn’t about the sale in that moment, she was about affirming me as a human being, affirming me as I presented my best self, my most authentic self to the world in this dress.

A long and ridiculous search had led me back to this store, White House Black Market, an earthly place I can call my own. It had happened before in this store, but this time was something more. I found joy, peace, and assurance in who I am.

And the interesting thing was that even in our assurance we had found “the dress,” Patty didn’t stop me at that. She let me flounder as I continued to try on all the other dresses for size and style. The one that didn’t do anything for me, the one that was just ok, the one that was 100% Amy on the hanger but not right when I put it on, two that were beautiful but not quite right for the occasion, one that was sophisticated and fit like a glove but was best for a wedding, and the one that was sexy but totally not me. She let me try them all.

At the end? We returned to the white dress with flowers.

Patty reaffirmed me “that’s the one,” and with all my heart, I knew it to be true. It was. just right. So she brought it out, with the shoes and the shrug and I stood at the counter with no hesitancy.

Because this time, I felt an assurance that ran deeper than any man could squelch in just a moment. For my assurance rests in who I am. Woman, child of God created in the image of God, perfectly unique, Amy.

I feel beautiful. I am beautiful.

And so are you.

Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of incense. You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you.  Song of Songs 4:6-7

Amy

It’s Friday, which means it’s time for another Meet Me At This Moment for Five Minute Friday post! I spend the last hour of Thursday chatting it up with a group of authentic and inspiring Five Minute Friday bloggers on Twitter (#fmfparty). One minute past midnight EST Friday, Lisa-Jo Baker gives us a single word prompt and we all write a blog post centered around that word. We write for five minutes, and five minutes only! In the words of Lisa, this is “unscripted. unedited. real.” You meet me at this moment in time…my thoughts and opinions, my joys and sorrows, my dilemmas and dreams. And I receive one of the greatest gifts ever…a regular outlet for processing and expressing my thoughts without constantly editing myself. This is my life, my perspective, unfiltered.

The word of the week is ORDINARY. 

I’m quieted. I’m silenced in all your extraordinaire.

I’m momentarily paralyzed by your God-sized dreams, your god-sized living on the computer screen. But I am not you, and you are not me, for God has a plan that is unique and special, only for me.

And I begin comparing and thinking this God-sized dream I’m not willing to share is just too big. That it’s not worth dreaming. That it might be so God-sized it’s not even possible. And that leaves me in a place of defeat before I’ve barely begun.

For if I compare myself to you, you seem bigger. You seem better. You have it all together. You know where you’re going. You’re on your way.

And I sit in this silence.

For although He made me quiet, my heart beats loud and I have much to say. Things to say that you, and you, and you can’t possibly say.

For this path? It’s mine. And the God-sized dream, between me and God.

My heart wants to believe it true, but my mind? It tells me no way. That brain that over-processes and wonders if this mystery will ever be unfolded? No way, just no way. The world? It tells me no way, that’s ridiculous, far off daydreaming. My overpacked life? No way I can ever make it happen. And the Twitter stream? No way, nothing but a face in the sea of success.

But my God? In the quiet, He says yes. In the quiet, it’s ok. Between you and Me, we’ll keep it this way. I’ll lead. You follow. Sit and be near. For you see the worlds’ works, but My way is better. This journey is for you. For you are not ordinary. You are extraordinary.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.  Romans 8:28-30

Amy

SPECIAL NOTE BEYOND THE FIVE MINUTES: Holley Gerth, author of You’re Made for a God-Sized Dream, is leading a group of women that are publicly acknowledging and pursuing their God-Sized dreams. I follow Holley’s blog quietly, and admire her very much. The day Holley’s God-Sized blog series launched, I stayed up really late reading everybody’s posts, and I was stunned, but inspired by their willingness to share such big and bold dreams with the world. Although I know with clarity my own God-Sized dream, I am not bold enough nor confident enough to share it publicly. I pray I will be bold and courageous as I continue down the path to my God-Sized dream, that I will follow Him each step despite my human fears and doubts, and that I will rest in peace knowing His plans are to give me hope and a future.

ANOTHER SPECIAL NOTE JUST PRIOR TO LINKING-UP! I published this post, went to link-up at Lisa-Jo’s site, and read that Holley’s book is released TODAY!!!! I have some serious goose bumps knowing I wrote this post and did not realize today was her big book release day! A big congratulations to Holley, and I’m knowing God has His arms wrapped around all these God-Sized dreams more than any of us can fathom. Truly, this has been a God moment for me today. Thank you Lisa-Jo Baker for the prompt, thank you Holley Gerth for the book, and thank you all for joining in this stream of consciousness.