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Steph Lenox

Everyday Resilience In Christ

Place

Finding a Place

stephlenox

September 19, 2018

Cleaning out the garage sparks realizations of finding a place, good intentions, and growing up.

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Categories: Emotional Tools•Tags: cleaning, Emotional Process, Fall Cleaning, Finding a Place, Growing Up, Life Lessons, Motherhood, Organizing, Place, Sorting, time•

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This one's for your brain: Mondays should exist beyond valuation. Beyond metrics. It is neither good, nor bad: it just is what it is. So for all of us that feel like Monday has roughed us up and stolen our lunch money, remember: you have worth. You have value. There is no metric on a Monday. Only the grace of a loving God who sees your effort, though you limp along, penniless and bleeding. Well done, Love. It will get better. Tomorrow is not Monday anymore. . . . #monday #hope #hopeformonday #hopewriters #dishes #chores #nojudgement #grace #god #jesus #keepgoing #welldone #writersofinsta #writersofig #writing #resilienceinchrist #stephlenox

You know when you're sick in bed and your cat takes advantage of your weakened state by playing king-of-the-mountain on your belly? Yeah, sort of warm and comforting. Sort of hard to breathe.

BECOMING. Ah yes, such a diplomatic word. I'm not neglecting my blog, I'm "becoming" a better writer by tending to my family. I'm not late to the meeting, I'm "becoming" more punctual as my toddler is "becoming" more adept at finding his own shoes. Funny though, this word has one giant loophole: NO TIMEFRAME SPECIFIED. Like, maybe someday we will get it together. Which both irks, and comforts me, in turns. Becoming a writer will happen as the children grow and ALL go to school. But in the meantime, in the trenches, I'm becoming something else: more myself, more Steph Lenox. Because rumor has it that's who my family (and eventually my readers) really want. Hi there, girls. I'm thirty seven with curly salt-and-pepper hair that's still growing back after baby-hairloss-mageddon 3 years ago. I love a good joke, a good fried egg, and a good side of sauerkraut. I secretly love wearing dresses. I do not love interruptions, especially when we are all heading out the door. I love to roller skate, like, way too much. I think I cry more easily now than I ever did in my whole life. I think that may be a good thing. I feel like I'm becoming older and younger at the same time. I look forward to becoming a wrinkly old lady who roller skates, wears colored wigs just for fun, and plays jokes on her grandchildren. Now tell me, who are you becoming more of as the years tick by? . . . #becoming #HopeWriterLife #hopewriters #writingchallenge #writingprompts #ilovetowrite #nonfiction #christianwriter #writer #writersofinsta #writersofig #stephlenox

TYPE. I still make myself write longhand at times. It's like walking barefoot. It's good for the muscles, for the connection with the tangeable surface. And it takes time, which slows me down, making me dwell on a thought while I'm getting it down. But sitting down to a keyboard is like lacing up my running shoes. When I type, I type fast... and hard. I'm sure there's a vital skill I missed in my high school keyboarding class: the correct wrist posture, the delicate tap of keys like a pianist brooding over a nocturn. My poor keys bear shining wear-marks from my rough usage. I smack down the space bar with my right thumb like a gavel. I back-space often and ferverently like a telegraph operator. But when a thought begins to gel, all my fingers fly: banging quickly, and harder. I start to hear a weird rhythm in the plastic clicking of the keys. At times I find myself bobbing my head to the sentences as they come out, listening to their beat in my head, listening for the musicality. It must flow. The lines must sound right. The thoughts must form and add and amass upon one another in just the right cadence so the reader can fully understand what it is I'm trying to get out. This is, usually, first draft typing. This is riffing. This is pure invention - which is a terrific thrill. The intensity of this pleasure, and the imperative of becoming understood forces my fingers down harder upon the keys. Thus the more excited I get, the harder I type. . . . #HopeWriterLife #hopewriters #type #typing #longhand #amwriting #writingchallenge #writingprompts #ilovetowrite #nonfiction #christianwriter #writer #writersofinsta #writersofig #stephlenox

STORY. My story is inextricably bound up in theirs. Tonight we celebrated my little girl's birthday. Between bites of pizza, I leaned over the table to tell my birthday girl the ways in which I was proud of her. I told her stories of watching her over this past year succeed in some subjects, and struggle with others. I told her of her perseverance and grit. I told her of her deep listening skills, and how her feelings get hurt easily becomes she loves deeply. I told her of her blossoming aptitude in the kitchen, nevermind the messes of flour and the grease smudges of butter on the door of the fridge. Our stories we are told shape the stories we tell ourselves. We could see our first forays into baking as spilled flour and greasy butter stains, or we could see an actual lop-sided cake that we made ourselves. We could feel discouraged or we could feel pleased. It all depends on the stories we hear, and the stories we tell. I'm becoming dangerously aware of how my words are so formative in my children's hearts. It frankly scares the bajeezers out of me. It will affect how they look at new things that come up throughout their whole life. Just like our own parents' reaction to our own struggles as children form how we as adults either wade into risks, or hide from it like the boogy man. Take my advice: Affirm your kids. Affirm yourself. Forgive your mom. And practice telling yourself the kind of stories that you want to live in. . . . #HopeWriterLife #hopewriters #story #thestorieswetellourselves #writingchallenge #writingprompts #ilovetowrite #nonfiction #christianwriter #writer #writersofinsta #writersofig #stephlenox

FALL. They asked me: Where does your writing style fall? My style falls somewhere between Anne Lamott, Lysa Terkeurst, and Stephen J. Dubner, the author of "Freakonomics." It's like Anne Lamott in it's wry, confessional tone. It's like Lysa Terkeurst in it's self-help, Christ-centered genre. I take you through the messy process, to the answers that I have found. It's like Dubner in that it draws surprising connections between disparate subjects/sciences/disciplines. I do this to shed fresh light on the reality of our life in Christ, mining the data of everything from physics to psychology, to find modern-day parables. Where does your writing style fall? . . . #annelamott #lysaterkeurst #stephenjdubner #freakonomics #fall #writingstyle #genre #HopeWriterLife #hopewriters #writingchallenge #writingprompts #ilovetowrite #nonfiction #christianwriter #writer #writersofinsta #writersofig #stephlenox

Steph Lenox

Steph Lenox