New Normal

It's my last week of maternity leave.  How on earth did 8 weeks fly by so freaking quickly?

How did this little baby transform from a foreigner in our home to the heart of it?

How do I get dressed in REAL clothes to go to work?

How do I WORK?  Somedays it takes all I can to get out of the house.

And mostly... how do I drop this little girl off with someone who isn't ME?  I have control issues as it is, with a child they have ramped up.  Yet, I am excited to know what life looks like 

back at the gym

back with my youth

back in the office

back at meetings

all... with a kid.

Every time I think that I just can't do it... I just can't... I think of all of those that have done it in the past... all that are doing it at the same time as me... and all that will be doing it soon enough.

Speak of soon enough... is this what happens in your late 20s (it was very difficult to type LATE 20's) EVERYONE IS PREGNANT.

No, of course it's not EVERY SINGLE PERSON I KNOW but basically.

I could list them all but there are a lot living in the 'secret' phase.  I kinda love that time, when only a few people know and you feel like the luckiest friend ever because you get to know.  Stop guessing... you'll find out soon enough.  

Here is to the new normal.  Where I can't just go to the gym for 2 hours a day.  Where I have to make bottles, and label things (well, I do love the labeling part), and plan meals in advance.  Where time at home seems precious and I'm not antsy to get out.  Where I live my life as Emily, the wife, friend, youth minister, and MOM.  

But today... I'm wearing yoga pants and not leaving the house... because I still have a couple more day so of maternity leave.  

The Best Laid Plans...



Aubrey Grace is here

Praise God

7 pounds

11 ounces

19.5 inches long

and perfect.

She is perfect, everything that led up to and followed her birth was perfectly God's plan and perfectly NOT Emily's.  This whole mom thing is throwing a BIG wrench is my compulsive type-A personality. 

My mom flew the day before my due date for the birth... and left 7 days later right before my water broke.

My non-medicated tub labor became a pitocin induced, internal monitor having, epidural supported labor.

My 9 pound baby I was prepared to birth was not even 8 pounds (that wasn't such a bad surprise!)

My completely breast-fed baby has become a formula baby.

My concerns about her being 'too big' from birth has shifted to us working tirelessly to get her to put on weight.

This is parenthood. 

And in the midst of the madness God has planned perfectly for what he had in store for Aubrey.

A husband who knows how to hold it together, hold my hand, and hold our precious baby.

A church family that brings us meals every night, making sure that if nothing else, we have a great meal every day.

A best friend who took a week away from her family to help me make mine. 

so here we go... she is two weeks old and I have learned more about myself and my Creator than I had in the past 27 years. 

I keep reminding myself that the best is yet to come... but what is happening now is pretty amazing, too.

things I didn't think I'd think when I was pregnant.

With 4 weeks left* on this adventure of pregnancy there are a few thoughts that have passed through my mind that I never expected to think.  Let alone say out loud. 

*it better be 4 weeks because I really want to give birth at that new hospital... and yes... I check the countdown daily to make sure nothing has changed.

Inapropro pregnancy thoughts

• if my water breaks on my favorite spin bike... does that mean I won't have to get to class 10 minutes early and leave every earthly possession I have on my person on my bike so no one takes it?  Will it become 'that bike' and no one will ever ever ever want to spin on it again... I sure do hope so.
• there is no turning back.  This is really happening, and unless we give her up for adoption this baby is going to be with us ALL THE TIME.  (this was said out-loud to Jay, his face reassured me that I was being irrational and he was a little afraid I am the mother of his child)
• what happens if we have an ugly baby... (like REALLY ugly not ugly-like-they-all-are.  I do realize you will probably see the ugly-like-they-all-are pictures and remember this) She is going to be a girl and as much as I hate to say it... nobody wants to be the ugly girl.  Jay is a good lookin' guy... he could never be a cross-dresser, he would be a horribly ugly woman.  And she will be half him.  Lord help me
• I hope she's not uber smart.  I want an average kid, no super-genius that I can't hold a conversation with or help with her her homework past the 3rd grade.  Plus, our family doesn't really get along with the super smart people, they don't get our sense of humor.
• What if I really should have had LESS caffeine... I tried.  I swear.  But I still drank the daily cup (or two).  I did not do any hardcore drugs so at least I don't have that to worry about that on top of it.  But I am afraid that no matter what her flaws are... I am going to have to blame it on Starbucks.
• How long can I keep her in me so I give birth at the new hospital... I saw those new flat screens... and I want one in my room.  Isn't that most mother's concerns their first day of motherhood?

I'm sure that there are more but at the moment the kid is living in my ribs and it's hard to keep a thought for longer than 30 seconds...

We love Jesus AND we talk about sex.

I said the word masterbation in a group of church leaders.  That isn't so surpising for those of you who know me well.  I don't exactly hold back when it comes to those things but all of a sudden I realized that I was teaching real ministers about talking to their youth.   I realize I'm a 'real' minister but I'm talking about colar wearing, pulpit preaching, big kids.  And I also realized that I said masterbation in the first 2 minutes I was infront of them.  Margo Fisher would be so proud.

So rewind... I was speaking at a training about sexual assault and child safety education in religious communities.  I was asked to speak there because apparently not all churchs have these conversations.  Not all youth ministers put their youth through a four week program where they hear the word sex used more than seems humanly possible.  Not all churchs have parents that not only stand behind but demand that their youth learn about sex from their faith community, not the weird kid in their math class. 

Thank God for my church. 
... and for all my parents, who talk to their kids about sex
... and for my youth who have opinions, and questions, and vocalize them. 
... and for a place where Jesus and sex can exist in one sentence.

half way there...

20 weeks down... 20 more to go.  I got dressed this morning to face the Friday.... looked in the mirror... and almost passed out.  There's no more denying it, it's jeans with elastic waist bands and maternity shirts for me. 

happy thought.

We had an aunty day. We hiked in slippers... with no sun screen. We stopped and looked at every rock/dinosaur egg. I found out my aunt had lied to them last time they had taken this hike and told them that there was shave ice at the second pillbox. I ruined their reality and was totally okay with it. We said hello to everyone who passed us. We stopped 16 year olds who thought they were having a romantic moment from necking. We ate spam musubi and a medium slurpee for lunch. They dressed in profession soccer jerseys... it was pretty epic if you ask me. I love my nephews. ALOT.

Home

The past month has been FULL.

Full of traveling.

Full of family time in Hawaii.

Full of Lenten fasting and Holy Week planning.

Full of Ikea trips and Target looking to figure out what our little one will live in and with.

Full of time to think.

It's amazing what 15 hours both ways on a plane from Charlottesville to Kailua can do for your soul. It had been a very very long time since I had the space to think about life in the big ways instead of life in the small-- what are we eating for dinner-- what time can I fit a gym run in-- sort of way.

And for most of that time I thought about home, probably because I was leaving one for another. I thought about Charlottesville home, my pictures on the wall, my chocolate brown couches, the routine we've created here. And I thought about Kailua, the way I can feel what the weather will do, the way each road carries with it a memory, the way my town looks when you get through the tunnel on the H3... like a little Eden.

I was feeling very 'in between' as I flew from VA to HI. Where do I belong? What does it mean to be home? Is it where most of your memories live? Is it where my family is? It is where I was called by God to be? I have no answers for those questions, I struggle with them daily. But the other day as I sat on my chocolate brown couches watching way too much Netflix and feeling very pregnant I looked over and saw this...

The man who has made me fall in love with him a million times. The man who is so stoic it can make me crazy. The man who refuses to get a new wedding band, even though his is scratched, bent, and tattered (after only 3 years) because it's the one we started with. The man who moved across the country with me because of a still small voice that gave us a call. The man who asked my best friend's permission to marry me over pancakes because he knew how important it was. The father of the baby that grows within me....

and I realized

Home is where my husband is.

Leaving Facebook behind.

So this year for Lent I'm giving up Facebook.

Jay still finds this hard to believe.

Today as I logged on for the 10th time, I found it hard to believe.

Why am I so obsessed with this social-network monster. Because it make me feel connected, let's me know all the little things that are really none of my buisness, and totally buys into my voyeristic ways. But it also brings right to my face one of those deadly sins that eats at me.

Envy.

Every one's life looks so perfect through the lens of facebook. Cute babies. Beautiful houses. Successful friends. Things I feel that I DON'T HAVE. I have always been the jealous type. I am the youngest. Youngest sibling, youngest cousin, youngest friend. Jealousy is part of my makeup. Facebook magnifies it. And I don't like that Emily.

I have had the fb since college. But when I was teaching, and paddling, and getting ready to be married, and paddling, and paddling some more (it was the season on Mike Smith and 5 day a week practices) I didn't touch the thing. And it was blocked from the DOE computers, so that helped. But lately I have used it as a lifeline.

A lifeline to Hawaii.
To Gonzaga.
To friends that are too far away to hug.

But instead of calling or writing I just watch their lives happen, without me, and it either makes me jealous or sad. Neither of which are things I like. People take pictures of the ocean and I suddenly hate them. They get married, and I'm torn-up that I couldn't make it. They have babies and I want to kiss them and hold them and cry because they are so beautiful.

I have done so much watching of others peoples lives that I am removed from them. I am an outsider looking in. And if you are also a youngest... being on the outside is not something we deal with well.

So as Lent is about cleaving the things that poison our lives and drawing closer to Christ I am working on being THANKFUL this Lent. I'm working on GRATITUDE. and my ATTITUDE. I am excited for this adventure because I feel like I am being

set FREE.

It's like I get permission to live my own life without the window into others. If I want to see their lives... I'll have to walk through the door.

a family of 3

It's amazing how we loose ourselves... I apparently lost Emily-the-non youth minister-self for a while. My youth ministry blog has been kept up, my text messaging with youth has been steady, but in the mean time I've begun to slowly drift away from other things I love and people that love me. Ministry can do that sometimes... then God brought me right back to reality.

I'm pregnant.

It's amazing how quickly your priorities fall into place where there is a precious gift growing inside of you. It's also amazing how weird that is but I will write about that another time.

So on December 19th, between church and our annual youth Christmas Caroling & Party I took
two

Yes... two

Pregnancy tests. They both said "hey maybe your pregnant or maybe your eye sight is going"

So a day later I went to my doctor, who bless her soul had me take another test that told us "you crazy girl... you're not pregnant" but because she believes in instinct, and heart, and listening to the small voice she said "let's take a blood test... just to be sure"

and by golly... I knew I wasn't crazy and we were pregnant.

Jay and I spent a few days with our secret, holding it tight like the delicate gift it was until we told our parents on Christmas day. They didn't see it coming, which made it even better. My mom was up at the crack of dawn to open presents with my nephews so we only had to wait until 1pm eastern time to tell them. Jay's parents had a late night and weren't up till later. It may be possible that he called them over 20 times to try to wake them up, but I'm not saying anything.

And in those moments... it became real. We will be a family of 3. Our parents are looking for names they want to be called. We are looking at names (and coming up with all the ways they can be turned into teasing in middle school). My youth know and love to tell me how weird it is. We stop in the baby section on Target instead of just the 'useless crap' section. And we are getting our first ultrasound on Monday to see this little thing.

And that is crazy, and grounding, and real like nothing I have ever experienced.

And no matter how distracted, and flighty, and disconnected I can feel at times... each morning I wake and my hand goes directly to my belly and I know that nothing has ever been this good. Ever.

Is it mission trip time yet???

What is this amazing dance you may ask? well... it's CLOGGING!!!

Never in my life did I think that clogging would be a re-curring recreation for me but in the past year it just keeps coming up. Last May at Montreat I was blessed to experience old Bluegrass music with amazing youth ministers and a swarm of cloggers.

Today I got an email from our site co-ordinator for mission trip. Want to guess what our first evening activity is?... that's right... CLOGGING. The group above is the group that will teach us this summer. Clogging is quickly moving to the top of my list of reasons I love Appalachia. I think this will soar to the #1 spot after spending an evening with my youth clogging. I do plan on selling copies of pictures of me clogging at 7 months pregnant to start our child's college fund.

The fact that I get more excited everyday for the mission trip is not a good sign for me since it is 3.5 months away but... is it time yet????? I want to be clogging!

The Rutledges hold their breath for rain. Jay and I love nothing more than a day when the bottoms of your jeans are soaked and coffee warms your hands. We both fell in love with rain at different times. Jay spent his favorite childhood years living in Sedro-Woolley, WA, a small Pacific Northwest town where he rode his bike everywhere, mowed lawns to make big money, and explored the Cascade Mountains with his Dad. I went to college in Spokane, WA, the booming metropolis of Eastern Washington. This is where I fell in love with two things: rain and coffee, both still have me hooked.

Now, don't get me wrong, C'ville has some great coffee, but Washingtonians know how to 'do coffee'. By my senior year of college I had gotten the hang of it. I had a coffee date about everyday. Study coffee dates, girl-friend gossip coffee dates, coffee dates with my priest, coffee dates with the youth minister I worked with, and lots and lots of coffee dates that were supposed to be about learning but ended being about friendship. They always began the same way, peeling off layers of damp jackets and scarves, a warm hug, and a coffee. The coffee drinking was never rushed, it was always out of a real mug with a saucer, held with two hands and often, silence would set in and we would find ourselves starring out a picture window as the rain streamed down outside. Doing coffee is something I somehow lost along the way but today reminded me that I need to find it again. That time when you don't need to hurry out, when you can sit with someone in silence, and when all you need fits in a heavy ceramic mug.

I hope you get some time today to sit in silence, to enjoy the blessings God is giving us in this rain, and be still.

in the whale...

Being Still...

I am reading and re-reading an amazing book, Contemplative Youth Ministry: Practicing the Pressence of Jesus written by Mark Yaconelli. His words constantly remind me of why my heart was called to ministry. I have read this paragraph in his book a million times but each time my heart says amen, Amen, AMEN!

"When we allow ourselves to be open and receptive to God's love and presence, we begin to notice that God is alive and available. We begin to preceive that the Holy Spirit is present and working beneath the worry and activities of our ministries. It may even occur to us that God has been present to our young people long before they met us-before they were even born. When we stop to receive God's life and love, we begin to understand that the Holy Spirit has been seeking out our young people with greater passion and desire than we could ever work up. That's when it becomes clear that our ministry is really not about us. We notice a sense of relief that we're not the center of our ministry. We discover newfound energy as it dawns on us that our role in youth ministry is not to "make something happen!" Our task is to simply rest in wonder at what God is doing, and then lend a hand as we're needed." (Yaconelli 76)

HIS promise.

I am often shocked at the kind of person I am when I forget about the Lord's call on my life.

I am selfish.
I am superficial.
I am materialistic.
I am jealous.

I struggle with the grass is always greener affect. I think Facebook plays a huge role in that game in my life. I am able to see the vacations, the cars, the perfect looking marriages, the beautifully homes that my classmates have bought or built. And sometimes... that makes me mad. WHY NOT ME... why don't I have it all handed to me? Why must I be on a budget? Why do I clip coupons and shop at Ross?

As I sat in my small group bible study last week Thursday a woman I have some grass is greener envy towards said something that slapped me across the face

GOD DOESN'T PROMISE US SUCCESS

My immediate response was... YES HE DOES! but then I stepped by from my seat of entitlement and remembered that actually, he doesn't. God never promised me that I would own a huge house, or the wardrobe of my dreams, or a brand new Toyota Sequoia (and the money to fill it with gas). He promised me that he would provide what I needed. He promised me that if I followed His call on my life I would find joy. He promised me a family in Him that would love me exactly who I was.

Jay and I followed his call to Charlottesville and my human nature wanted that to mean that we would somehow have MORE than we did in Hawaii as a reward. That since we did this big thing for GOD he would give us big things.

Well he did... it just wasn't a new car.

I wake up daily knowing that my life has purpose.
My marriage is stronger.
I get college acceptance phone calls moments after the first line of 'Congratulations' is read.
I start my mornings with hot coffee, fresh bagels, and young people that love Christ.
I get paid to go on mission trips.
When I am sick... I am not only allowed to stay home and get well... but the staff prays for me.
It is completely appropriate to wear yoga pants and tie dye to work
I get to go to camp, sing songs, and watch middle schoolers meet Jesus
I have a beautiful wardrobe of Jesus t-shirts.

It may not be a huge house, or new car, or nordstrom's wardrobe but in the long run... these things are far more fulfilling that I would sometimes like to admit.