Decisions...

When we grow up, we learn that life is grey. The right answer isn't always easy to find, and often, there is no right answer: just a small handful of choices, each with their own consequences.

I accepted this from the beginning in relation to parenthood. I know that even if I did everything "right" (as if that exists) it wouldn't matter, because if my child doesn't perceive my actions in the same manner that I intended them, then even the "right" actions could be wrong for my child. Are you with me? Rather than find this concept depressing or stressful, I find it freeing. It means that I can accept that my actions will at some point "screw my child up" in some way or another. It means I don't have to worry. I can parent according my convictions without worrying about every choice I make.

While I find it easy to accept the grey in regards to raising Violet, I have a harder time with it in other areas of life. Recently, we've found ourselves in the midst of financial turmoil. We've stressed over how we will pay our bills and feed our family and have gas in the car for Cameron to get back and forth to work. We've talked about him getting a second job (which is a bad idea right now since he's getting very little sleep working the night shift) and looked for other opportunities to earn money and reduce our bills. There is an "easy" solution to our financial woes: Cameron could go to work in the same industry he just left. The wrench comes in this: we need each other. Cameron and I NEED each other. DAILY. Violet NEEDS her daddy at home. We aren't the kind of couple who does well apart. We each make the other better, and without each other, we each become the worst versions of ourselves. The industry he just left required A LOT of travel. Too much. We can't go back to that.

You see, we have convictions about how our family ought to operate. For us, we need to be together. We need to see each other every day. We need time together regularly. We both believe it is best for all of us if I am a stay at home mom. How do we get it all? How do we manage to have family time AND enough money to pay the bills and feed our family? Enter the grey area.

We made choices that will effect our future. We are trusting that God has provided us the resources to make it through today and that He will continue to provide for us each day- even if that means walking into the future without knowing exactly how things will work out.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

Try shining a light down by your foot in a dark room and see how far the light reaches. I can tell you. It's just far enough to take the next step.

That's enough for me.

It took this long

I am a writer. I'm 26 years old. I spent my elementary years at home filling journals with ridiculous stories (mostly about animals). I spent my middle school years filling journals with really bad poetry. I spent most of high school and college writing about my life and using it to learn to deal with my past and the things in life that have challenged me most.

Yet, until yesterday morning, I never once would have said that I am a writer. I didn't believe I was talented enough to even try out for the high school newspaper. While many teachers read my academic papers aloud while growing up, I never considered my work worthy of notice. I'm published in a few academic journals that I don't really consider worth much. When I was in high school I even had a member of the administration believe in my ability enough to contact a personal friend, and send samples of my writing to a professional who wrote back to me and offered assistance. Still, I never considered myself a writer.

I felt like I wasn't good enough. Why? Because there was always someone better. Because the words never came out of me as beautifully as they did for Charis Boylan, and I couldn't come up with metaphors like Charlotte Dunlap, and I wasn't as creative as Elise Barret. I've never kidded myself into believing that I might ever write anything of consequence.

Yesterday morning,, while I was at church sitting in a room full of people, I found myself wishing for just a moment that I could be the person I am on paper. That was when I realized that being a writer doesn't mean I'm the best, or even that I'm good. It doesn't require notoriety or even being published. It just means that I write. I write because it's the only way I can express myself in a way that feels true to who I am.

I'm overly verbose, I need every piece edited about a thousand times, and by the end, almost every sentence has to be rewritten, but I am a writer. I may never finish the book I've started, and even if I do, no one may ever read it. I am still a writer.

It feels good.

P.S. note I did not claim to be an editor :) I am fully aware of my MANY editorial mistakes in my posts

One of those

Today is already one of those days… the ones where things just seem to go wonky. Yes wonky. Don’t judge my choice of words. It’s not that things are necessarily wrong, but rather that they just aren’t quite how you expected them to be. 

This morning when I woke up (after 8am) I quickly realized that my husband must have accidently unplugged the baby monitor last night. I could hear my baby crying across the hall … meaning she must have been awake for quite a while. She had a leg sticking out of the crib.  She spent an entire hour eating her bottle (which is just ridiculous). Afterwards, she pooped in her just changed diaper. While changing her diaper, I got poop on my finger. Totally didn’t freak out. I’m pretty proud of myself for that one. I went to the bathroom after getting her changed and realized that my underwear was on inside out… I put them on in the dark. Yeah. Oh, and at the moment, I’m typing this in Microsoft word with the intention of pasting it into my blog later because apparently my internet has no intention of working this morning. Yep, this is definitely one of those days.

I’ve had quite a bit of “wonkiness” in my life lately. For those of you haven’t heard, my husband is currently unemployed. Oddly, our incredible lack of income and increasing reality of not being able to pay the bills isn’t really bothering me. I just assume that God is going to work it out. The day he found out “officially” that he was losing his job, he was offered the opportunity to work with a guy from our church while he’s in between jobs and the guy has the extra work. It’s not a long term job, nor is it one that will actually support our family in the meantime- but it is something, which is more than nothing- and it reinforces my belief that God will take care of us. 

Monday was my first time to go to MOPs.  I’m going to try my best not to make any opinions on the program based on my first time. I will say this though- I hope they are serious about the whole “bless this mess” theme, because my house (every single room and hallway) is a complete disaster, and on my way out the door, I wiped my baby’s face with a clean diaper because it was all I could find. (Monday was also one of those days).

So if you’re having one of those days, weeks, months, or even years… you’re not alone. I’ve had this little kid song stuck in my head for over a week now:

(From “My First Hymnal: 75 Favorite Bible Songs”)

Look at the flowers in the field

They don’t sow or shop for clothes

If God takes care of flowers in the field,

He will take care of you.

Don’t worry, don’t worry

God will take care of you.

Don’t worry, don’t worry

God will take care of you.

P.S. if you happen to know of a job opening with great pay and benefits, feel free to pass on the info :) 

What it's really like

I just got off the phone with Cameron. He isn't coming home tonight.We thought he would be coming home for the weekend. I had planned special meals and went to the grocery store so I would have everything we need. I cleaned the litter boxes so he wouldn't feel like he needed to when he got home. I worked on getting Violet's laundry done so the washer and dryer would be free for his clothes.  I really wanted to see him. I was looking forward to waking up with my husband for a night or two. I HATE having him gone.


I love my little Violet, and I appreciate that I have her to hold when I want a hug and her to distract me when I'm desperately missing my best friend, but at the same time- she's a lot of work by myself. It's hard to have her 24/7. I'm still new at parenting. She's not even five months yet. The girls in my lifegroup do an evening bible study- something I'd really like to be able to do- but I can't, because I have Violet. I'm tired in the evenings and really just want to take some time out for myself, but that's right about the time when Violet needs to eat, and take a bath, and play, and read a story... and on and on and on. Don't get me wrong, I love singing with her and cuddling her, and taking care of my baby. I love her. She brings me great joy- but it's still work.She's teething right now, and fusses a lot, and needs a ton of attention to distract her from the pain she's experiencing. I get tired.

I wanted to seem like I was alright on the phone- because I know he's not. But as soon as I hung up, know that I cried like a baby, thankful that Violet was asleep in her room. I just want him home. I want to feel like I'm not alone.

His job is a blessing. His job is a blessing. His job is a blessing. This is what I have to remember over and over. God gave him this job. This job provides what we need in a way unlike anything else we can think of would given Cameron's experience and education. Until God
tells us Cameron needs to go in a different direction work wise, this is where we are. Traveling is part of the job. Last minute changes to "the plan" is also part of the job. His job is a blessing... It's just hard.

If there is a song in the world that describes my life at almost all points it's this one:

"Strong Enough"- Matthew West

You must
You must think I'm strong
To give me what I'm going through

Well, forgive me
Forgive me if I'm wrong
But this looks like more than I can do
On my own

I know I'm not strong enough to be
everything that I'm supposed to be
I give up
I'm not strong enough
Hands of mercy won't you cover me
Lord right now I'm asking you to be
Strong enough
Strong enough
For the both of us

Well, maybe
Maybe that's the point
To reach the point of giving up

Cause when I'm finally
Finally at rock bottom
Well, that's when I start looking up
And reaching out

I know I'm not strong enough to be
Everything that I'm supposed to be
I give up
I'm not strong enough
Hands of mercy won't you cover me
Lord right now I'm asking you to be
Strong enough
Strong enough

Cause I'm broken
Down to nothing
But I'm still holding on to the one thing
You are God
and you are strong
When I am weak

I can do all things
Through Christ who gives me strength
And I don't have to be
Strong enough
Strong enough

Surprisingly Good

How did this happen? Somehow I, Amber Jaeger, major homebody, anti social, lazy girl have stumbled in a happily active life.

This week alone Violet and I have been to the dentist, chiropractor, several walks, several stores, the gym 4 times already, had a friend over, and went to Tyler for a funeral (btw, NEVER take a 4month old to a funeral). This amounts to about the same amount of activity I would typically have in a MONTH... usually with help from my mom and Cameron.

At the same time, Violet has become insanely active. She can now roll both directions and on her side, she can scooch around in circles and short distances... apparently with Lola bunny in tow, and she is constantly squirming. She plays more, talks more, sings, and has lots of fun in the morning before I come in for her- I can only assume she is telling jokes to Lola bunny that crack her up, because I hear her giggling over the monitor.

For reasons beyond my own comprehension, I have also become more active. Did you note the 4 times to the gym this week already? For my entire life I have HATED physical activity. I am scared of balls, which knocks out most sports, I hate running, which knocks out most other sports, and I live too far from snow- so skiing isn't an option. The only consistent physical activity I've ever been able to do is walking. Yet, for some reason I decided we should suck it up, make room in our budget, and join a gym. Then, I went... and liked it. I actually feel good after working out. It's like it makes me happy. Weird. I know. Endorphins, blah blah blah... I suppose people were right.

Not only are we physically active, but I, of my own volition, have planned two trips for Violet and I in the next month:one to west Texas to see some of my extended family, and then one to Idaho to see some of Cameron's extended family. I am voluntarily leaving my safe, comfortable, little home to see other people. If you know me at all, you're probably wondering where Amber is and seriously considering the validity of alien abductions.

I really think God has used Violet to bring me back to life. I read my bible more, pray more, sing more, read more, move more, eat better... and I don't even think about it. These aren't conscious decisions, but rather, the logical consequences of being a mommy.  I don't know what I was doing before, but I really believe it was NOT the abundant life Christ died for me to have. This life: being active, giggling with my daughter, spending time with my family, flirting with my husband, and remembering God's word...this is good.

The Spirit of Truth

For a change, this has nothing to do with parenting aside from the fact that one of the best things you can do for your child is to make your marriage a priority. 

A while back Cameron and I had a serious conversation about our relationship. We have these from time to time where we evaluate where we are and where we've been and where we want to be, and how we feel about all of it. I think it's important to do this at least a few times a year. During this conversation, something came out (truth) that had never been said before. Our life has been pretty hectic with the new addition of Violet and being back around family and friends, so it took a while for the new truth to set in and for my mind to wrap around its implications. Once it finally settled in, I got into a bit of a funk. This past weekend I couldn't stop thinking about it and finally spoke to Cameron about it Saturday night. I expressed to him that the new truth I was living with changed my perception of the past. I was mourning memories that were put to death by the truth. I was very sad.

We know that areas of our marriage need work- we knew going into marriage that we would struggle in these areas. We want to not struggle. We want to have the kind of marriage that is described in the Bible. It's the desire of our hearts. We often get discouraged because we fail so many times, and even when we don't, we still live with the consequences of past failures.

Sunday, at church, the message was about the Holy Spirit, also called the Spirit of Truth. To be honest, I was tired from our late night conversation. I had a hard time listening to the message, but God still had something to say to me. The Spirit of Truth comforted me. It's okay to mourn, but better to rejoice that we now live in the truth.

I am a huge advocate for marriage: for "til death to us part," God can heal ALL things, marriage. I believe in communicating, supporting each other, and being best friends. I believe in a biblical definition of marriage. I believe that the description of the relationship in the Song of Solomon is something that God intends for us all to have and enjoy. I believe that all of the descriptions about the roles of husbands and wives in the Bible are exactly how we ought to live, and they are what I want. I WANT that marriage. We both do. However, as much as I support and firmly believe in God's description of marriage, I often forget that God is a much better advocate than I am. I forget that what He describes, is what He wants for us.

We don't need to despair over the trials we face, because we know that God is our advocate. You see, when our desires match up with His desires, we can rest assured that our God is a good father and will give us the desires of our heart. How lovely is it to know that the marriage we long for is exactly the marriage that He longs for us to have?

That is something worth rejoicing over. When we live in the truth of God's word, He turns our mourning into praise. That's the work of the Spirit of Truth. Praise God.

Sweet Time

I realized a few days ago that it has been several weeks since I have written a new blog post. It's not that I haven't had a million different ones in my mind that I intended to write, but lately, I'd rather spend time with my Violet.

I think we've hit the sweet spot. I feel like we are currently at the magical period of time where Violet is the easiest she will ever be. Right now parenting is a complete and total joy. She is gorgeous and smiley and laughs and loves to just chill with us.

She really likes it when Cameron and I sing to her so I've been trying to jog my own memory to recall the songs I learned in VBS and day camp at church to expand our repertoire. Yesterday we were going through compilations of children's songs on Spotify and came across "My First Hymnal:75 Favorite Bible Songs." Violet heard the little kids singing and her face lit up with a smile. We started singing along, and seeing my sweet baby smile as her daddy and I sing songs we learned when we were little is one of my new favorite memories. She even makes sweet little sounds as if she were trying to sing along :)

She has grown into such a happy and sweet little girl. She sleeps for 10-12hrs every night, takes at least 2 naps a day, and just smiles as big as she can when I go in to pick her up in the morning. She giggles and kicks and splashes and coos. Sometimes I just can't get over how much I love her. She's becoming a real little person. My only real complaint anymore is that she spits up her new formula so much... and loves to get it all over me. But hey, that's part of being a mom right? We wear our hair up so it doesn't get pulled, we wear clothes that are easy to move around in, and our earrings rarely dangle. Makeup is ALWAYS optional. Oh yeah, and all of those little vanity sacrifices... we don't care about them. I like looking nice, and feeling clean, and getting dressed up, but right now, that gets to happen like once or twice a week and that's okay. Laying on the floor with messy hair pulled into a ponytail while making ridiculous faces and singing songs to make my sweet baby laugh is totally worth the trade off. I know the nasty milk smell isn't permanent.

So if you see me at the store in my t-shirt and stretch waist band shorts with flip flops and a messy ponytail hunched over, talking to my baby girl as I push the cart... feel free to laugh. I know I look ridiculous, but she thinks I'm hilarious and I'd do just about anything in the world to hear her laugh and see that giant smile.