Amanda Auer

I love having a teen - full stop. I actually knew it was an age I’d excel at. And it’s not without its bumps… we’ve truly been fighting for balance now that we’ve handed over the reigns of trust and introduced a phone. As newness wears off and rhythms attempt to settle in, I’ve become fiercely protective of our environment. I’m cautiously watching our joy, ensuring we lean in well, and hoping to partner beside her so that we can set the pace with our other, upcoming three. Teen years are so tricky. It’s independence and self absorption and intimidation and the learning curve of life. I feel inspired by it. Raising people - full people - is why I got in this game of motherhood. Watching her stretch and reach and slip and fail… all of if, I’m so here for. To be an observer in the process of someone coming into themselves, seen and known, is a special sort of gift. To coach her and guide her but pair that with the reminder that we’ve already done so much to instill (right versus wrong; what works or doesn’t; how she’s safe versus knowing when it’s not). It’s the active work of launching while still leading - in the midst of it all. I’m so grateful today for a screen set aside, a kitchen full of giggles, nights cuddled on the couch in preservation of youth or closeness or extended time together. And, as it shifts or fades or ebbs and flows, my prayer is to love it well. All sides. The bittersweet, the absolutely holy in it. The deepest hopes held loosely out of respect that her life is not an extension of my own. It’s hers to live. Because I am FOR her - and because I trust Him, I can rest my own things and be about theirs; hers and His - together.

Thought for the day: giving up good things is so hard. I wrote a bit about this last post but for reals… the things that are worthwhile - when over or unwound - will break your own heart. I had someone tell me recently that, instead of stubborn, I should call myself tenacious. And so then well, my tenacity is what drives me toward commitment. Lack of commitment is literally something I can’t wrap my brain around. I’m loyal through and through. Like I left college at 19 knowing it was Josh I wanted to be with, and I felt more ready then (than the first time) and so I stayed the course. Through all the makeups and breakups and all of it in between . There’s a lovely quote in a song I know that prompts a person to “leave good for great” and while I know it down to my bones to be true… a great unknown is not a compelling offering versus a good known. So, here’s to full launches into a great - or even greater - unknown.

A few weeks back our oldest got a character award from school. After years of similar words spoken over her life - and, rightfully so, for continued bravery - the one she got this year marked distinct growth: integrity. I actually cried in the back of the room, quietly, when the words “moral courage” were shared. Her teacher spoke of her kindness, of a confidence that’s growing, of a can-do attitude and of how she’s the first to raise her hand for things that include others. Guys, in this season of motherhood I am nailing nothing. Absolutely not one area going fully right. And yet as promised the gaps in me are filled by Him alone. What He knit into her. What He inspires and instills. What He truly tends to, in the garden of her heart, cropping up consistently year by year. I’m so thankful and in awe of watching these four lives unfold. I know I am partially at fault for all they are (and I do mean this in a good way - I can’t tell you how hard I’ve fought to be a person of integrity on my own, especially in the face of the last year…. Some lessons are caught not taught in the home). But if I have learned anything in my busy, bustling parenting window it’s this: boy is He faithful. The Bible is true that it’s beyond what we could ask or imagine. It’s true what I’ve learned - that a life of faith is knowing He will be good to them individually, just as He has been good to you. And it’s an uncomfortable unknown, all we launch them right into (toward independence)… and it’s still good. He is still good. It’s like unwrapping a present each day just thankful that we have such a mindful Giver. And it’s the absolute surrender of it all, the delightful surprise surrounding it, and the ultimate exhale we’re called to. So glad they’re mine. Even more, that they’re His.

I’ve held my walls so high - built so big over the past few years - that I’m hardly able to remember how to get them down. I actually began to fear being known. All the ways I’m able to “other” myself allowed me to make sense of the distance. But known is not a bad thing I’m finding out. Over the last years I’ve poured myself into a thing that could never love me back - said that aloud to Josh many times and while it’s true, isn’t it just like life for us to dive fully into the areas that might break our own hearts? I’m ok with it. Worthy things hurt… that is how it goes. I’m in my best attempt to show up more, in so many areas. Because this space is still sacred. Still special. Still shared - and wholly mine. I slowed because of outside opinions. Because optics. Because I grew weary of input… and now I’m learning once more to punch through and BE. To fill up and allow other things set aside. To rise, rest, and give what God has laid on me to say. To be more me. So, here it goes. A quick scroll may send you back years… yep. But I am set on grafting more beauty, in images, and taking more time, in stories, to open what life lately brings - to display it well, still inside glass for protection. But to do it on purpose. Because things that break your heart are still worth loving. And, so am I.

I can’t count the valentines days we’ve spent together anymore. Some young years we spent floating between being us and… decidedly not. I’m glad we found our way back, and that when we did, we stayed. Each uphill battle’s been worth it - to be fully seen and known by someone and not shoved away for the parts of your humanity that you *already know* are unpleasant? That’s the stuff of Heaven on earth. I’m grateful to no end, pushed to do better, and truly backed. What a gift - and holy handful - all things “love” truly is. I feel split by the gravity and joy in it all. And happy for the partner I have in him.

Life lately // peas in pods, pensive moments, Christmas celebrations, Florida revealed, who we are at the beach - and beyond. We sure live a great life.

Out here enjoying our first trip to 30A area (in Florida). I know it doesn’t look like it, but this has been… everything healing. After a rough start in what we hope is the wrap of a real hard season, soaking in slower time together - on the sand or in the spa - has been just what our souls have needed. Grateful for every moment.

The year she was sick, she picked Peppa Pig. I just saw an article that featured babies in the hospital dressed up for Halloween and it all came flooding back. She picked Peppa but never wore it. Couldn’t muster the strength. Didn’t have it in her. My parents took my kids - including my 4 month old - to a big trunk or treat at a local church, dressed in princesses we’d already owned and that was that. The year before my “twins” donned handmade salt and pepper shaker sets, and the next one, our world was fully paused. Trauma is strange in this way. One minute you’re celebrating life on a tire swing, zero cares, and the next you’re reminded of the scars on her belly and the days where she was fully sedated, unable to move. I’m grateful for the healing we’ve seen. The normal we live. The times where we feel buffered from all ways the world sought to harm and come after her (body and soul). But mostly I’m grateful for the life she gets to live with her story tucked gently inside. Life in His name with His will and purpose at the helm. And this year? We’re back to a handmade costume at her insistence. Well, maybe at my own, too. Because we’ve been away from ourselves (in such a busy season) long enough. And it’s high time to come home.

I pray he keeps his confidence in taking up space. He’s so good at it - elbowing his way in and pulling a chair up to the table. It takes a certain settling of the heart to be an olive branch embodied - extending invitations to all. Welcoming. Friendly. Excitable. He’s a gem, this boy, much like his dad. I’ll bet he grows up to order an appetizer “for the table”, too, out of the overflow of hospitality (as a gift). We call him our Hot Dog for the way he will still climb into bed and require to be squeezed - snuggling beside us like the buns. It’s genuine love and joy with this one. In a season where I haven’t been able to give my full attention - or intention - to the sweet small spaces of motherhood, he takes up space. He just inserts himself, and finds it. Like sitting on a lap or squeezing onto the couch with barely half a cushion of room… he enters with quiet confidence. And while I mourn the mom I want to be in exchange for the capacity I have to give (in my CEO season), I am so thankful that not all is lost. That God aligned him to be him so that we can still be us. Close. Connected. Together. And found hand in hand more often than not. Grateful for prayers I’d not known to whisper but answered authentically in the arms of my children. What a gift. ❤️

She’s back everybody! She celebrated her 22nd anniversary and her husband’s 44th birthday and took a trip with only-her-eldest to mall of America (in honor of teenage years commencing). It was a good gig, that month away. Taught me a lot. Reminded me who I am. Protected my heart from needless things (pointless ones too). I never regret a Screen Free September. Glad to be back in limited capacity, here too. ❤️ Also - this guy? Love of my life. Who knew at 19? And HOW. Grateful gal.

Moments like this have felt few, far between, fleeting. Grateful for any glimpse and reminder that we’re still in childhood. In fact we’re thriving despite it all. And more we’re thriving in the midst of it all. And maybe we’re thriving because of it all. So many things can be true if we hold our hands loosely and commit to be honest about our circumstances with one another. Each of us carrying a different side of our experiences. But a golden thread of love weaving it all together and binding us stronger than what we may have been, apart. I’m so glad we aren’t going it alone. It’s an endless gift to love and be loved.

The good attitude, the glue, the all around great guy. Happy Father’s Day to my bestie. Let’s get these kids grown so we can hang out again @joshauer