Restfully HIS

Would you believe what happened this morning?

Nothing. I slept ELEVEN hours last night. And when I woke up, the house was still standing. My people were all okay. The world didn’t stop turning. Nothing happened.

Sometimes, we need rest. Sometimes, we need a lot of rest. And sometimes, we can’t pinpoint a reason “why.”

I struggle to accept this. Somewhere down the line I bought into a lie that says needing rest is a sign of weakness. Where did that come from? I don’t even know. But accordingly to the lie, it’s only acceptable to rest if you have a legitimate reason, like exercising too hard, recovering from illness, not getting enough sleep the night before, and so forth.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes my body just says, “I need more sleep. Give it to me. And don’t ask why.” (Spoiler alert: I always ask “why.”)

Today, I am trying to confront that lie. God, in His infinite wisdom, knows things I do not. Maybe I need rest now because something difficult is looming on the horizon. Who knows? But I’m trying to learn to listen to my body, be kinder to it, and be more accepting of its needs.

Even Jesus needed rest, y’all. You can read all about it in my soon-to-be-released devotional book, “Inside and Out: Living Like Jesus in Today’s World.”

I’m preaching to myself here. It’s okay to rest. It’s okay to sleep. It’s okay to take a nap. It’s okay to curl up in a hammock without so much as a book or a phone . . . just the sounds of the birds and the breeze. Breathe deeply. “Nothing” will happen.

ASSUREDLY His

I laughed out loud at a meme a friend posted today detailing how Austria’s airport has an entire help desk dedicated to travelers who land in Austria thinking they were flying to Australia. Apparently so many people make this mistake, they need personnel on hand 24/7 to handle them! Come to find out, this is all a big joke, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

While I was laughing at my gullibility, I remembered an actual geography mistake I made just last night. My husband and I were watching a scene from a movie that took place in the General Assembly room at the United Nations. As the character leaned on one of the country’s desks, I noticed the signs for “Niger” and “Nigeria” nearby. All my life I thought Niger and Nigeria were one country. I just assumed when people referred to “Niger,” it was a colloquial way of saying “Nigeria.” Kind of like when we say we’re from the United States, the U.S., and America—all meaning the same country. I felt pretty ignorant.

I’ve been thinking about assumptions, and the trouble in which they often land us. Few things can make us feel stupid quicker than an openly shared, wrong assumption. The Jewish people confronted this with regard to Jesus. Assuming their promised Messiah would come as a powerful King for the nation of Israel, they struggled to believe the healer, teacher, and servant walking among them, named Jesus, could be the one they’d waited so many years to deliver them.

We make a lot of assumptions about God, too … what He thinks, how He operates (or doesn’t operate) in the world, what His plans are, and more. When it comes to our Heavenly Father, though, there’s not much we need to assume. When God sent His son to earth—part divine and part human—it was not solely for the purpose of the world’s redemption. God also wanted to reveal His nature through the character of Jesus.

Let me say that another way. If we want to know who God really is, we should look at His son, Jesus. If want to know how God wants us to live our lives, we should look at the way He lived His.

I believe our human nature really wants to complicate things. We look for details, hard and fast rules, catch-22s, and all other means of confusing pretty simple instructions. The Bible is a narrative—the world’s most beautiful story—detailing God’s perfect, divine, holy love for His creation. It’s a tale of just how endless and vast our Heavenly Father’s love for us is. And He wrapped that story up in the man called Jesus, who walked the earth with human problems and frailties, and showed us exactly how He wants us to live.

Love God. Love others. Live like Jesus.

We can be ultimately assured of these things. No assumptions needed.

ASSUREDLY His,

Nicki

For more on how to #livelikejesus, keep an eye out for my social media posts with that hashtag, relating to the book I am currently writing.

Funnily His

This morning, I took my dog, Lucky, to the vet. He didn’t want to get in the car to leave. He came to the car door, sniffed, and high-tailed it back to the door of the house. Normally, he is all tail wags and happy jumps about car trips, so his behavior baffled me … at first. I realized I haven’t taken Lucky on any “fun” car excursions in quite a while … only trips to the groomer and the vet. No wonder he didn’t want to come with me!

I started thinking about myself and my own lack of enjoyment and “get up and go” lately. I didn’t want to get out of bed today, and it took me a long time to actually wake up and get going. I wondered if I’m a lot like my dog. Maybe I’m reluctant to start the day because I haven’t had enough enjoyable surprises lately, or even planned ones. Is my tail dragging because of boredom, exhaustion, or exhaustion as a result of boredom?

The little voice inside my head started speaking loudly: Nicki, God didn’t make this brilliant, enormous kaleidoscope of creation just so we could live monotonous, boring, tedious lives! Why would God, in His infinite wisdom, create all this magnificence just so we could ignore it? He wants us to dig in to life, taste its varied flavors, partake of its myriad of experiences, and feel a wide range of thrills and gratitude.

So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.

Ecclesiastes 3:12-13

When is the last time you did something “just for fun,” not because you had to or because it was on your to-do list for the day? When is the last time you went for a joy ride “just because”?

Let’s all make a renewed effort to stop at the park on the way home, call that friend we miss and want to re-connect with, take off our shoes and walk in the grass, or put on our favorite music and dance in the kitchen. God wants us to live these lives He has given us.

Taste and see that the Lord is good.

psalm 34:8

I rewarded Lucky with a pup cup of whipped cream. He inhaled it, tail wagging ferociously with every lick. I hope he remembers this experience the next time I ask him to get into the car. And I hope tomorrow morning, I remember some enjoyment I experienced today, and get out of bed a little more easily.

Funnily His,

Nicki

ANXIOUSLY His

Hello, August.

You bring your usual anxiety and stress of athletic team tryouts, back to school necessities like shopping, meetings, and events, intolerable heat, early morning alarms, and life-long recurring nightmares about missing college class for an entire semester minus the first week and then having to sit for the final exam.

You’re not my favorite month. Not by far.

August, with your new beginnings, makes the controller in me rear up in a mighty way. Your unknown makes me uneasy, August. So, if I pray hard enough for what I want … if I plan far enough in advance … if I’m uber organized … everything will fall into place like I’ve imagined, right? My children will have a smooth start to school: all their hard summer work will pay off in wins and varsity jerseys; their schedules will align with the courses and professors they desperately want; their social relationships will be wholesome and edifying.

Oh, how this line of thinking has failed me every.single.time.

So, I’m trying my best to approach you, August, differently this year. I’m still praying those heart’s desires over my children, but I’m also trying really hard (seriously, this is hard for me and takes a lot of work) to relinquish my dreams for my children to God, whose dreams for them may look entirely different than mine. You see, I want my kids to be happy. God wants my kids to be whole.

And speaking of whole, I’m trying to remind myself that I am a whole person that exists outside of my children. August, you tend to me leave me feeling lost, on the personal side. I have a life that exists outside of my kids’ needs and schedules. I have entered a phase of life where these humans I’ve raised can and should be doing more for themselves than I am doing for them.

Most importantly, I am reminding myself – often moment by moment – that God is in control of all of our lives. August, you will not break us. God has plans for us, if this mama will just get out of the way and let them unfold as He sees fit.

New month. New school year. New lessons to learn and adventures to embark upon.

Hello, August. Please be kind.

Anxiously His,

Nicki

GLEEFULLY His

I tip-toed out the front door of the house to take a phone call so I wouldn’t wake my napping teen in the family room. She’s recovering from surgery. I’d just caught a bowl-full of her vomit and reapplied ice packs to her incision sites. A moment in the sunshine, breeze, and green grass would serve as a welcome respite, regardless of the duration.

I spoke briefly with an irate plumber on the other end of the phone line, who was upset that my husband forgot to cancel the appointment to have them fix the water leak in the garage. While putting out that little fire, the general contractor (who is building a house next door for my parents to live in) texted with questions and to-dos and more facts and figures than my exhausted brain could untangle. My son texted his usual “can you pick me up” and “what’s for supper” in the midst of it all.

I hung up with the plumbers. Then I remembered the giant tarantula I’d just seen on the wall in the garage where the water is leaking. I looked down and took a long, slow, deep breath. And I noticed something moving. Right in front of me on the sidewalk, I watched two dung beetles skillfully and gleefully roll a deer turd right across my path. I burst into a fit of giggles and shook my head, thinking, “Well if that isn’t just the perfect picture of my life right now.”

Happy little poop bugs.

Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying my life is a turd. Sure, circumstances are difficult and stressful right now, but I recognize I’ve been blessed way beyond what I deserve. As one of my toddlers used to say, “I’m not complainin’. I’m just esplainin’!” What I am saying is I kind of relate to that happy little dung beetle and his partner-in-crime. That’s a stinky, sticky turd ball, but those two are making the most of it.

Work willingly at whatever you do,
as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.

Colossians 3:23

Instead of asking, “Why me, God? Why is this my life?” Try asking instead the following question Lysa TerKeurst posted on Facebook yesterday: “What if this is happening because God loves me? I can’t see all there is to see. But He can. I can trust Him. I can trust Him. I can trust Him.”

I guess my point is this. At some point, we will all feel like a bug that’s rolling feces uphill; so, find the One who can help you roll it — and roll with it. It’s a lot easier to find purpose in the task and to accomplish it with a grateful heart when you work alongside your Creator and Savior.

GLEEFULLY His,

Nicki

NOT-SO-STUPIDLY His

It’s been a hard week. Situations arose involving finances, marriage, and parenting that left me feeling entirely clueless. And the still-recovering people-pleasing, over-achieving perfectionist in me does.not.like.feeling.dumb!

But that’s exactly where I found myself on multiple days this week: confused, stumped, not knowing which way to turn or how to proceed.

I stumbled across the social media post in the box below by She Rises. I cannot tell you how much it comforted and reassured me.

I turned to God. I’m still wrestling in prayer. To tell you the truth? I don’t have any answers yet.

But what do I have? Faith.

Faith that I’m not alone. Faith that God sees me and hears me and loves me. Faith that He is working all things together for my good. Faith that if I persist in seeking Him, He will hear my prayers and answer according to His will. Faith that He will never abandon nor forsake me. Faith that He can do the things I’m begging Him to do, and faith that He knows whether or not those things I’m asking for are even what’s best for me.

Faith that He is God. And I am not.

And I choose to be okay with that.

NOT-SO-STUPIDLY His,

Nicki

GROWINGLY HIS

Today’s blog is a lot different … it’s a PODCAST!

I recently sat down with Keri Wilt and recorded an episode for her “Well-Tended Life” Podcast. We had a lot of fun and focused on how we can grow through whatever we are going through.

I think you’ll enjoy listening. And I’m giving away a free book! Find my author accounts on facebook (Nicki Dechert Carlson, Author) and instagram (nicki_dechert_carlson_author) for details on how to enter!

Look for the Well-Tended Life Podcast on just about any podcast platform you use. Direct links are below.

LISTEN with IPhone: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-well-tended-life/id1518884906

LISTEN without IPhone:https://thewelltendedlifepodcast.buzzsprout.com/644737

Don’t forget to check my social media accounts at noon Wednesday for that giveaway information!

Growingly His,

Nicki

TIMELESSLY His

Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes, beginnings and endings. That statement has never felt truer than now, as I close out the year 2022 and open the year 2023.

For me, 2022 was a year of both slow and sudden change. A year of bittersweet endings and expected beginnings. A year of traumatic loss and surprising rebirth. Mourning and celebrating. A year of confusion, turmoil, twisted emotions, gut-wracking sobs, anger and frustration, pleading, and broken hearts strewn about like shattered fragments of glass. And yet, there was also blessing. Gratitude. The warm embraces of family and a few friends that carried us to the cross where we lay crumpled in a messy heap of surrender.

My thoughts about this last year spill onto the page in broken sentences much like my broken self. Emotions too overwhelming for words try to leak out of my eyes and down to my typing fingertips. 2022 was simply too much for me.

And yet, I’m still here to welcome 2023.

In my darkest moments last year, I was held by the One who holds the entire universe. When I couldn’t, He could — and did. When my emotions betrayed my faith, and my body couldn’t rest, and my racing mind just simply would not shut up … the Holy Spirit tended to my wounds that human hands and efforts could not reach.

I mourned so very many things last year — loved ones, friendships, dreams, and ideas. I am laying them to rest back there, in 2022. It is time to move forward. Not without them, but with a new understanding of them. Time will reveal the lessons that the hard work of 2022 has taught me. I don’t want the hardships to harden me. For now, I look ahead and welcome new days and new opportunities to experience God’s love and grace, and to share it with others. My mantra for 2023 is simple: keep your heart open. If that resonates with you like it does with me, I hope you’ll join me on this journey.

TIMELESSLY His,
Nicki

PRESENTLY His

We really looked forward to this weekend … our first weekend in many weeks when there was nothing scheduled. Recently, we’d moved our oldest into a new apartment while she finishes college. We’d moved our middle child into her first dorm room at a different college. We’d gone to tennis tournaments while supporting our youngest child. We’d been deeply embroiled in grief and the business that surrounds a death in the immediate family. We’d been preparing for and enduring the growing pains and anxiety and busyness of going back to school, two out of three of which were new schools for our kids. We’d weathered bad news after more bad news after still more bad news. But this weekend, we looked optimistically toward an opportunity for rest.

But then a fresh crisis emerged. Friday afternoon, we learned that our precious first pet, our sweet lapdog Emily, has liver cancer and is dying. She doesn’t have months. If we’re lucky she has a couple of weeks. Most likely, she has days.

Calls were made and tears were shed and our newly-minted college freshman took the news the hardest. We agreed to meet her halfway in-between her college town and our hometown on Saturday, so she could spend some time loving on her dog, just in case it was her last chance to do so.

It was all too hard, though. The idea of traveling back to her dorm in an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar people she is living with and being alone in her room while others went out to have Saturday night fun just seemed impossible. So, she followed us home for the night. We talked. We cuddled. We watched funny shows on TV. We talked about our feelings and our God questions and our grief. We discussed the importance of finding God’s blessings in the midst of all this pain, and in His ability to bring good out of every situation. We held our sweet dog and petted her until she fell asleep.

That night we all slept, comfortable and safe in one another’s presence in our home. This morning we awoke to the Verse of the Day on our phones. It was the same verse we recited last night:

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.

Romans 8:28

After our sweet girl kissed her pup, mustered her courage, and headed back to school, I cried in my husband’s arms and lamented, saying, “I just wish life would get a little easier for all of us. When is this awful season going to end? It’s about to get even harder!”

And within the next 10 minutes in our home, my husband, my son, and I all discovered hearts from God all over our house. One after the next after the next. Our own little signs that God sees us and loves us. We were not just safe in one another’s presence last night … we were safe in His presence. We are always in His presence. Thank God we are not alone.

PRESENTLY His,

Nicki

BLESSEDLY His

I’m a super honest person. Lately, I’ve been struggling with feeling insincere when I casually run into people around town. I got downright nervous recently at the grocery store while waiting in line with my cart of items, anticipating the impending conversation. A typical, short greeting in a situation like this used to go something like “Hi! How are you?” To which I would reply, “I’m great! How are you?” And then we would carry on with casual conversation or other business. Similar encounters happen when running into friends in public places. I have to say though, these conversations are no longer working for me. They don’t ring true and leave me feeling icky.

You see, I’m not great. Hell, I’m not even good. If I were to answer honestly, I would say, “I’m having a hard time. I’m really sad. And I’m really tired. Grief is so hard. I’m overly-emotional and completely overwhelmed. I’m also a little anxious. And I’m really, really vulnerable, which makes me easily hurt and then resentful, which I absolutely hate. I’m tired of crying. And I’m so ‘over’ bad news I could scream.”

Cue the young, stunned cashier at H.E.B. with her mouth gaping open, running towards her manager for help with the crazy lady in the checkout lane. Boundaries are important in our society. Even my friends and acquaintances would struggle to respond to that emotional outburst, regardless of its truth.

What’s strange to me is that even though I myself am “not good,” God and I are good. We’re solid, in fact. My faith has not wavered. My face is still fixed on His.

We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

So, as I struggle with social etiquette that coincides with honesty and faith, I’ve decided on the following for the time being:

“Hi! How are you?”

“I’m blessed. How are you?”

Because despite my erratic emotions, God’s blessings are consistent. Despite my hurt, God is still good. Despite my feelings changing like shifting sand with every new wave of grief, His grace still stands firm.

I’m blessed. And how are you?

BLESSEDLY His,

Nicki