Sobremesa Stories

Letting stories unfold around the table

Womanly Wednesday: A Guest Post On Being Torn

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Today’s Womanly Wednesday post is by a woman whose friendship has impacted me deeply.  Taylor Thomas is not only an amazing artist (check out her website here), but also a compassionate friend whose joy and authentic desire to know and love people show me Jesus on a daily basis.  She asks the best questions, has the most ridiculous sense of humor (and the highest pitched squeals of joy), and expresses the deepest, most broken parts of her heart more poetically and honestly than anyone I know.  She was the co-maid of honor at my wedding with Haley George, and is closer to my heart than just about anyone.  It  is an honor to have her share in this space today.  

Womanly Wednesday Taylor Main pic

Being torn is being okay.

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Learning To Love My Husband’s Hobbies

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If you know my husband at all, you know Jordan is a man who loves to be outside.

Jordan has always been athletic, and in the last three years he started cycling and running pretty consistently.  He loves being outside and loves how races are an outlet for his competitive spirit.  He did his first marathon on two days notice when a friend dropped out, and even with the disgusting blisters and super-sore muscles, he was hooked.  Since then, he’s competed in a variety of half-marathons, marathons, and now is starting to do triathlons as well.  He did his first Half Ironman last September and is training for another one in Boulder in a few weeks.  And if you follow him or me on Instagram at all….you’ve probably seen that our weekends have been pretty full of races these last few months.

Great tips about how to embrace and love your husband's hobbies instead of just tolerating them!

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Womanly Wednesday: A Guest Post on Abuse and Rescue

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As part of our Womanly Wednesday series, I’ll be sharing guests posts by different women who are bravely putting their hearts and stories out there for you to read.  And friends, this girl is the bravest.  I met Annie my freshman year in college, and her story is one of the clearest examples of God’s relentless pursuit of our broken, hurting hearts.  She is radiant, with a joy and heart for people and adventures that absolutely shines and lights up whatever room she walks in.  I bawled reading this post about how she found healing and hope in the midst of abuse and pain, and it is an honor to have her sharing her heart on the blog today.  

Womanly Wednesday

Mine is a story of abuse and utter despair.  It is a story of hopelessness and pursuit of worldly success that has no ultimate value; a chasing after the wind.  It is a story of redemption, of God’s saving grace, of the Lord’s unfailing pursuit of a girl who bolted the other way – and his ability to capture and comfort even the most broken-hearted.

Maybe it’s a story you can relate to – perhaps not with the nitty gritty details, but with the heart of the matter.  The insecurities.  The shame.  The confidence in no one and nothing but myself.  The futile attempts to pick myself up by my bootstraps, without realizing that I had no firm foundation to place those boots on.  The slow realization and denial of the simple fact that if your efforts are all that you rely on, you won’t stand for long when the terrain beneath those boots morphs to shifting, sinking sand.

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How I’m Finding Freedom From Shame (A Three-Step Process)

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“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”  

Brené Brown –The Gifts of Imperfection

Finding Freedom From Shame - Sobremesa Stories

The first time I remember feeling shame, that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that something’s wrong with me, was in middle school.   I struggled in my relationships with girl friends, and remember one particular conversation with a girl friend who told me she didn’t want me around when the boy she liked was there because I was “too much,” and when I was my full self I was “obnoxious.”  I know that those words came out of a place of her own insecurity and fears, but they impacted me deeply.

I started to believe that who I am is obnoxious, that I needed to tone down my personality, my happiness, my intelligence, and myself in general to be liked and even loved by others.  I desperately sought attention from boys, believing that giving them my body and my heart was the only way to overcome my “obnoxious” personality and be “loved” the way I was longing for.  When I compromised my boundaries and values to make them happy, I felt an even deeper sense of disappointment and shame.

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How Getting a Dog Made Me a Better Human

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I have never been a dog person.  I am horribly allergic to cats, and on doctor’s orders, my family didn’t get a dog in case I developed an allergy to them as well.  So when I got married to my dog-loving, dog-wrestling, and dog-snuggling husband, I had a feeling we’d have to meet in the middle somewhere.  That somewhere came in the form of a sweet little black lab puppy named Olive.

How Getting a Dog Made Me a Better Human

We thought for months about adopting breeds of all kinds and were nervous to adopt from a shelter because it was a little unpredictable. This was a dog that we would bring babies home to, that our children would grow up with, and we wanted a dog who we would feel safe having around our future little ones.   We ooh-ed and aah-ed over sweet puppies on shelter/rescue websites, and even got in contact with a few different breeders of labradoodles and whoodles, but couldn’t make up our minds if we were ready.

I had all sorts of irrational fears about getting a dog.  I was afraid that the dog would somehow go back to its animal instincts and attack me  in the middle of the night (I know….absurd.  Can you tell I’d never had a pet?).  I was afraid it would destroy our house, my clothes, all my favorite things.  Perhaps most importantly, I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to love it like I hoped.  I was scared I would tolerate having a little creature running around the house, but I wouldn’t experience the connection and love that people describe having with their animals.

Holy moly….I could not have been more wrong.

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