#and I did 20 minutes of guided (very gentle) stretches that made a big difference

[thevampiresiren]

Helping Yoongi Shave

Word Count: 2.5K

Genre: Fluff, Humor

WARNINGS: Soft!Yoongi, Tooth Aching Fluff, Cursing, Slight Suggestive Themes (nothing major, just some suggestive flirting and a little talk of sex. Yoongi also puts his hands on the reader's butt)

Summary: Yoongi needs to shave, but he's too tired to do it himself. So he teaches you how to shave him.

A/n: So… This is the very first Fanfic that I wrote and I’m not going to lie; I was a very nervous about posting it until one of my friends read it for me and loved it. I’m not sure if I’ll be doing this stuff as a part of my blog ALL the time, but if I can think of anything and if it comes out good; I’ll definitely post it.  Also I just REALLY wanted to do a Yoongi shaving fanfic because I think helping your significant other shave is SO intimate and involves a lot of trust. I hope you guys like it!

I was passed out on the couch in the living room when I woke up to the sound of keys jingling outside the apartment door. As Holly got up from laying next to my feet, I picked up my phone and saw that it was around 1:30 am. As the door opened, I heard the brown toy poodle bark happily while he was spanning around in a circle while footsteps stopped to where he was. "Shhh, Holly. You're gonna wake Mom up." My boyfriend whispered petting the fluffy canine.

"Too late, she's awake." I yawned while stretching with a smile on my face. Yoongi looked up from petting Holly.

"I'm sorry, Jagiya. I thought you were in bed." Yoongi said while taking his shoes off, setting his work bag down, and walking over to me. I smiled as he tilted my chin up to gently peck my lips. When he pulled away, he laughed loudly. "What?" I asked.

"Nice bed head, babe". He said smirking while nodding at me. I ran my my finger through hair and sighed. "Hey, don't be upset. It's cute." He said standing up and kissing my check. I felt a slight roughness on my skin once he made contact. I look at his upper lip and chin, smirking.

"Nice stubble, babe." I copied. He touched his face and groaned. "Don't be upset. Its cute." I mocked. Yoongi smiled.

"I'm gonna go get changed. I'm too tired to shave tonight." He said yawning while walking to our bedroom. Holly and I followed not far behind and he laid down in his little bed starting to doze off again knowing his dad was home. I walked in and saw that Yoongi had put his glasses on and changed into his black sweatpants that hung loosly on his hips and was topless. He was by no means the buffest man in world, nor did he have majorly defined abs; but he was toned enough that you could see his pecs, and when the light hit right at the correct angel; his faint abs from him most recently working out would show up. He was perfect. His arm muscles slightly moved as he threw his clothes into hamper. I was too busy admiring him before he broke me from trance. "You okay over there? If I didn't know any better I'd get the feeling you're checking me out." He said with a cocky smirk. I smiled and pushed myself off the door frame I was leaning on.

"Nah, I think your hideous and by no means attractive. And you do it to me all the time." I said jokingly.

"Your loud noises from me pinning you down two nights ago and those dark marks say otherwise, baby girl". He said smirking. I blushed while trying to cover the "love marks" on my neck and where my shoulders met.

"Shut up and let me enjoy my hot boyfriend's body when we aren't fucking." I said laughing. Yoongi let out chuckle before he went off to the master bathroom to brush his teeth. I changed out of my day clothes into nothing but his white Fear of God shirt that hit my mid thighs and put my hair in a high ponytail.

"Aish! Its so fucking bad" Yoongi groaned loudly. I looked in and saw him examining his facial hair, clearly upset with how fast it was growing. "Yoon, just shave it tomorrow before you go to work. You need sleep." I said walking over to him. I knew he was beyong exhausted by how irritated he sounded and by the slight bags under his eyes. It was comeback season and I knew he was over working himself a bit. He was eating healthy and was taking care of himself like he has been, but I still worried about him. "I can't, we have an interview in the morning and we have dance practice. Plus, I need to finish up a song in the home studio once I wake up." He said leaning his head against the mirror pouting; his raven bangs falling and covering his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his bare torso and leaned my cheek on his broad shoulder making him shiver at the contact. "What if I do it for you?" I said quietly.

"My work?"

"No, dumbass." I said pulling away laughing while he turned around. "I mean shave your face." I said poking his chubby cheeks and kissing his pout.

"You sure you're not to tired to do that for me?"

"I wouldn't be offering if I was."

"Yes you would, because I'd do it too for you."

"I've already gotten at least 4 hours of sleep. You've been up since 6 am. I have more energy and I don't want you stressing out over it. Let me do it, baby. Let me take care of you." I said seriously.

"God, I can't wait to make you my wife." He said sighing. I laughed loudly "Who said I would say yes if your proposed?".

"We've talked about it and you were weak at the knees when I told you I would give you as many kids as you want and I would find a way to make it work for you, the kids, and music. Plus, you let me take your v-card. You've already said yes based on that like I did." Yoongi said laughing.

I blushed. "Just go get your damn razor and everything else." I said crossing my arms over my chest. Yoongi turned around and opened the medicine cabinet to pull out his shaving cream, aftershave, and the black leather case that he kept his razor in. He set everything in front of the sink and scooted out of the way for me to work. I opened up the case and saw exactly what type of razor it was. Anxiety shivered through my body as I pulled the razor out carefully. I just came to the realization that I had never actually SEEN his razor. He usually was using it on tour or even over at the dorm with the rest of the guys. Whenever he did shave here, it was in the shower.

"Yoongs..."

"Yeah?"

"This is a straight razor...". I said quietly.

"I know. It gets closer to my skin and the shave lasts longer. It works better for me than a normal one.". I carefully opened the blade far away from either of us at the risk of us getting cut. I stared at it and my anxiety just continued to grow. These were dangerous and I'd never used one before.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Yoongi said looking at me concerned while reaching out and gently rubbing my shoulder.

"I'm scared I'm going to pull a Thomas Brown Hewitt and slit your throat while I shave you. I can't afford a lawsuit as big as you." I said casually as I carefully set the razor down after I slowly put the blade back. Yoongi busted out laughing loudly at my comment.

"You'll do fine, Kitten." He said calmly after he collected himself. "I'll show you how to use it on yourself first if that'll make you more comfortable.". I thought for a moment and nodded my head agreeing. Yoongi grabbed the shaving cream and turned the water on so it was hot but not scolding. "Fuck." Yoongi said looking down, his deep raspy voice just slightly about a whisper as he just noticed what I was wearing. I smirked at him with a face that said "really?" .

"Sorry, you just look really fucking cute." He said blushing. Yoongi showed me how to put the cream on my legs which was no different than I normally do. He then grabbed the razor, instructing me to put my hand where his was. He lightly wrapped his large hand around my wrist, and started.

"Okay, so the trick is to go with the grain of hair; never against it. It can cause bumps and ingrown hairs. Also keep your hand at a 30-degree angle. Anything more will cut yourself. Make sure the skin is always taught as well. And go slow and gentle. Like this.". Yoongi began helping me shave where my ankle was and guiding me with the right amount of pressure. After a few more strokes of him helping me, I had enough confidence to do it on my own. It wasn't as hard or scary as I thought. After 20 minutes, I had both of my legs shaved and set the blade down on the sink. I ran my hands down my legs and noticed how smoother my legs were. I had no cuts, bumps, or anything like I normally would. "I DID IT YOONGI! I DIDN'T KILL MYSELF!". I yelled extremely happy that I didn't have to go to the ER, wrapping my arms around Yoongi's neck . He laughed at how excited I was.

"I told you that you could do it. Are you ready to try it on me now?" He said picking the blade back up. I smiled and told him to sit down on the counter of the bathroom sink. Once he was sat down and his glasses were off, I put the water on and shaving cream on his face. Just when I had turned to grab the razor; I felt a large warm hand on my wrist. "Um.. wait a second."

While I went to look over at Yoongi; I felt a soft, light, pressure on my left cheek followed by a muffled sound. I looked between my face and part of my hair covered in white, to Yoongi's right hand also covered in white and the right side of his face showing his skin underneath. It took me a second to get over my shock before I began processing what had just happened. "MIN YOONGI." I yelled, waking Holly up, making him barm from the disturbance of his sleep before going back to bed. Yoongi busted out in a full-on laugh attack causing him to almost fall off the sink before catching himself. As I washed the shaving cream off of me, I looked annoyed but also amused at him being playful. "I want a divorce already." I said laughing with him. Once we both settled down and Yoongi had his face covered in shaving cream again; I grabbed the razor and was about to start shaving him when my anxiety started getting the better of my again. Yoongi sensed my anxiety sparking and grabbed my hand that wasn't holding the razor.

"Hey." Yoongi said while he looked up at me lovingly, running his long fingers over mine soothingly. "I trust you okay. I know you won't hurt me." He said before kissing my knuckles, careful not to get the shaving cream on my hand. I nodded smiling and slowly started shaving him. Several minutes in shaving him, while I was concentrating, I felt Yoongi's hands reach behind me to my upper thighs, pulling me closer. He gently started rubbing soothing circles on them and messaging my ass.

"Keep it PG, Min. I have weapon and I'm not afraid to use it." I said jokingly making him chuckle.

"You know what you in my clothes do to me." He said with a tired smirk. His dark lashes hit his cheekbones as he relaxed under my touch. I smiled at a how serene he looked, and it took everything in me not to kiss him. Once I was done, I rubbed my nose against his causing him to open one eye and smile. I grabbed the washcloth and gently cleaned whatever was left of his shaving gel. I grabbed his Invictus aftershave and put some on his face.

"Okay, I'm think done." I said proud of myself. Yoongi put his glasses back on and grabbed the handheld mirror I had held out to him and examined his face closely. A huge smile hit his lips and he wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and pulled me to his broad chest. "You did amazing Jagi. Thank you." He said as he muzzled his face into my neck.

"You're welcome, Yoons." I said tiredly as I ran my fingers through his soft locks, laying my head on top of his. The faint smell of his aftershave along with the smell of him in general hitting my nose made me feel tired as I gently messaged his head. Yoongi hummed quietly into my neck before placing chaste lazy kissing to my neck, chest, below my ear lobe, cheeks, temple, nose, and finally my lips.

"I love soft, cuddly Yoongi." I said giggling. Yoongi looked at me with a soft smile, our noses touching.

"I thought you loved rough, dominate Yoongi?" He said rubbing our noses together.

"Ehh, I like all sides. I'm an easy woman to please." I said looking at him smiling before telling him it was time for us to go to bed. He yawned while nodding and we headed to our bed, setting his glasses down on the nightstand. He pulled me close, so my head was laying on his chest and placed his hand on the side of my face. Our centimeters away from each other he smiled and looked into my eyes with his full of love, care, warmth, and passion. "I love you so much, Jagi." He said tired while stroking my cheek bone. I leaned it connected my lips to his in a sweet but passionate kiss. We both pulled away with giant smiles on our faces. I responded looking tiredly into his eyes. "I love you too, Yoongi.". I layed my head on my pillow, my face buried in his neck breathing in his scent while he buried his in my hair, arms wrapped tightly around me. "I can't believe you smashed me in the face with shaving cream." I said quietly.

"That's what you get for staring at me and then parading around our bedroom in my shirt and your lace panties you brat.". He responded letting out and airy chuckle. I smiled before closing my eyes and falling asleep to his light breathing.

[fairylights101writes]

#48 and #20 with AkaOi

20. “Put some clothes on already, jeez! We have company coming!”48. “Let’s pretend I didn’t see you do thatThank you for requesting!Read on AO3 or below the cut

“Keichan! Keichan, are you out of the bath yet?” No response came and Tooru huffed as he spun around in the kitchen, the cork half out of the wine bottle that he clutched in one hand, a knife in the other. “Keichan?” Still no response. A spike of concern shot through Tooru and he set both down on the counter and walked back to their bedroom, feet soft on the carpet.

He knocked on the door, but all he got was a quiet inhale, sharper than normal. He opened the door and peeked in - and nearly slammed the door back in place, but he steadied himself and opened it wider. Keiji stood in the middle of the bedroom at the foot of their bed, stark naked with only a towel draped over their shoulders, wet hair dripping into the fluffy pink fabric. Tooru choked for a second, then managed a smile, willing his rapidly forming boner down as he stepped in. “Put some clothes on already, jeez! We have company coming!”

Keiji met his teasing with a bland stare, eyes holding so much more than they would ever allow their face to show. Tooru’s smile slipped away and he nodded, crossed the distance. Keiji’s arms were waiting on him, outstretched and shaking slightly as Tooru pulled their slender frame close, careless of skin still damp and water that dripped from dark curls onto his pretty blue button down. Tooru’s eyes found the bed - specifically, they found the two outfits on the bed. One consisted of a beautiful pastel pink sweater, thick and soft with a white collar that would sit delicately at the base of Keiji’s neck - he knew because he’d seen it, and it had been impossible to resist tracing the collar with open-mouthed kisses before sucking a hickey right over their collarbone. Keiji had laid a black-based skirt with darker pink and blue flowers printed on it, as well as a pair of dark tights and black shoes with a slight heel. The other was completely different, consisting of a plain red button down, black slacks, and plain black shoes.

“Oh Keiji…” Tooru whispered.

Keiji’s shoulders hitched in response, and he squeezed them tighter, pressed even closer as he smoothed his hands down their back, tracing the dips of vertebrae and ribs. “Hey… it’s okay. I know you haven’t told them yet, but it’ll be okay.”

It was all so new, and he could understand why Keiji was petrified. Sure, their friends knew - once Bokuto had known it was only inevitable that Kozume, Kuroo, and Tsukishima would know too. But Keiji had never really explained it all, how it went past pronouns and a simple body-image idea. They hadn’t mentioned how it had been months in progress - years really, and it had taken Tooru nearly two weeks almost half a year before to coax Keiji into admitting that something was wrong. It was years of being uncomfortable, but never really knowing why until it had all become too much and had bubbled to the surface. And Tooru had been there for the veritable explosion.

He squeezed Keiji again when he felt something new drip onto his shoulder, warmer than the water that fell onto his back. He held them there for a moment before he drew back, slid his hands up to frame Keiji’s face. Unlike Tooru, Keiji was a pretty crier, with eyes that rarely went red and puffy, skin that hardly flushed, and the way they gnawed on their lip until it swelled. But it was still heart-wrenching for Tooru to see, no matter how many times he did. His thumbs slipped across Keiji’s cheeks and he leaned in, pressed sweet kisses to the soft skin just beneath their eyes, and smiled. “My pretty darling. Keichan, you’re beautiful, no matter what. They’ll all take this in a stride, just like they took it well before.”

“I know… but…” Instead of allowing cracking words to fail them, Keiji reached up and wrapped their hands around Tooru’s wrists, holding tight as they finally met his eyes. “I still can’t help but be scared.”

He leaned in, pressed a kiss to their nose, and then pressed his thumbs in gently. “I know. But which do you feel like today?”

Keiji’s eyes cut over to the more feminine outfit - the same kind of things they’d denied themself for so painfully long. Tooru peppered a few more kisses across their damp face before he slipped away, only to pluck up the sweater, plush beneath his fingers, slip around Keiji. With gentle nudges and slow steps, he guided them in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door, very much aware of how Keiji’s eyes cut away, scarlet filling their cheeks, until Tooru draped the oversized sweater over their front, holding it in place with his fingers. “See?” he cooed into their ear, “You look stunning. Don’t you like it?”

Keiji looked away, but the flush in their cheeks darkened as their fingers hesitantly curled on the bottom of the sweater. Tooru smiled and gently nudged them until they spun back around and peeked up at him. Tooru’s eyes were soft as his smile spread, crinkling his face as he leaned close. “Wear it. You’ll look phenomenal, and we’ll match. It’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Keiji murmured. Tooru brushed his lips across their forehead, pressed the sweater into their hands, and slipped out into the kitchen once more.

Thankfully, the pasta was still doing fine, and nothing had started to burn, so he got back to work on the wine cork. It popped out after another minute of wrestling, and he was adding the finishing ingredients to the sauce when he heard the blow dryer going, and he grinned. Good. Keiji so rarely indulged themself, so whenever Tooru caught their eyes lingering on something he bought it. Wearing the clothes in public didn’t happen often, but when they were at home and safe from prying eyes it wasn’t unusual to find Keiji curled up in pretty sundresses and high-waisted skirts and other delicate things. Beautiful things. Another reason for the wine. It’s a big step for them. One at a time, slow, but still.

Tooru couldn’t help but grin, and he started to hum and sway along to the peppy pop song playing as he dashed some seasoning into the sauce, dumped the pasta to strain, and added some spices to the vegetables. He gave a little spin and whacked his spoon on the edge of the sink, then took the pasta and carefully added it to the huge saucepan, wiggling and bobbing his head. “Let’s pretend I didn’t see you do that.”

Tooru froze, then slowly turned around with a soft, sheepish chuckle, only for his apologies to die in his lips. Keiji stood just outside the border of the kitchen, wringing their hands nervously as they glanced around before finally settling on him. Tooru didn’t think, just moved, crossed the space between them and curled his fingers into the soft pink sweater. He grinned. “I’m so proud of you.” Keiji ducked their head, cheeks somehow going far darker than before as their hands rose too and curled into Tooru’s shirt.

Tooru leaned forward, pressed a kiss to each cheek, then to their nose, their eyes, their chin, each side of their jaw, the corners of their lips, and finally a true kiss. It smelled like coconut shampoo, tasted like mint, and Tooru hummed, pleased, as he carefully licked his way into Keiji’s mouth, pressing deeper for a moment before he pulled back and smiled. “Keichan, it’s not fair how you take my breath away.”

Keiji smiled faintly and stretched up, pecked Tooru on the lips. “You’re welcome.”

Tooru grinned, leaned in for another kiss, but stopped as a knock on the door made them both twist. He looked back to Keiji, cupped their cheek, and slowly coaxed them into meeting his gaze. All traces of smiles and mirth were gone, only a calm seriousness in place. “Keiji, if you ever feel uncomfortable, let me know. You can change as soon as you feel like you can’t do it. But remember that these are our friends, and they’ll love you no matter what.”

Keiji hesitated, but they nodded after a moment, then managed a smile. “I know. I… I want to try. It’s long overdue.” Tooru smiled. Another knock made him scowl though, but Keiji giggled and tugged him in for a chaste kiss before they pulled away and slid over to the door. Tooru watched, eyes hawk-like, as they stilled in front of the door, took a deep breath, smoothed their skirt out, and opened the door with a small smile that made their side profile even more eye-catching than usual.

Loud chatter instantly flowed in, then faltered for a moment, and then- “OhmyGod, Akaashi!” Bokuto cried as he lunged in and grabbed his friend in a tight hug, “You look amazing!”

A pretty pink filled Keiji’s face, all the way up to their red ears, and Tooru laughed to himself as he spun around and turned the stove off, the food done, grinning as he set it all up. I knew it would be okay. And now they do too. And they certainly did. The first five minutes revolved almost entirely around compliments from Bokuto and Kuroo with quieter ones added by Kozume and Tsukishima, and when Iwaizumi, Sawamura, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa arrived, a fresh wave of “Holy shit, Akaashi, you look… amazing” and “So cute!” and more came. Keiji looked like they might collapse from the sheer euphoria of it all, wearing the widest and brightest grin Tooru had seen since he’d asked them to move in with him.

And the best part? It lasted all night long.

[ashleygraceplus-blog]

Church Break, Mama Breakthrough.

Like I’ve shared before, I have made a decision to stay back from church (the building) every 2nd & 4th Sunday while my husband and kids volunteer in the kids building for all 3 services. They were MADE for crowds and full of energy. It’s right up their alley. God is using them there in great ways AND using those experiences in BIG WAYS to shape them. I’m proud of them, I support them and I am grateful for their willingness to serve people in this way.

I am different from them. I have finally overcome the guilt and the shame preached on me by pastors and fellow Christians that I. SHOULD. SERVE. IN. MY. CHURCH. (the building) - pass offering plates, pour coffee, set up chairs, teach classes…(all necessary tasks to keep a church organization running, thank you to those who do this work!) I’ve let go of the belief forced on me that my inability to muster up enough spoons to be among the noise and chaos of bulk human interaction was somehow a sin, a disobedience to my calling.

My service comes in different forms. In self care - in quiet recharging and filling of my patience and love tanks before the craziness that is children and a um… “youthful” husband come roaring back in. In gentle talks with my mother over coffee. In updating her ideas of what a woman can and cannot do with their life. In reteaching her God’s love. In sitting alone on the porch in gratefulness, soaking in nature, the breeze, watching the ants carry food back to their families. In thinking. In planning. In processing the events of the week, the month, life…pondering what each of my family members need from me, need prayer for, might benefit by, if I could change my reactions or take a different angle of approach to next time. In small acts of service around the house - rescuing a toy or device that almost was a goner, picking up and organizing an area in a way that will make it ready and easier to be used as soon as it is needed. Visually surveying their living spaces and gaining insight about how they function daily, what they need to succeed. What will make life simpler so there is more time for the important stuff - calm, loving togetherness. Preparing myself spiritually for the human interactions I will have throughout the week. Taking in what I need for me in order to have what I’ll need and want to give to them.

I’ve let go of the belief forced on me that my inability to muster up enough spoons to be among the noise and chaos of bulk human interaction was somehow a sin, a disobedience to my calling. 

 My service looks more like checking in on or simply sending a note of love to the kindred spirits I’ve been gifted in my tribe - my church (the people) - along the way - the ones who are mentally in pieces, unsure they want to continue, those who are chronically or terminally ill, energy given to them in waves, never knowing when they’ll be able to leave the house again, some who never will. Those who are overwhelmed, overworked, underthanked, some who have been dealt a plain old shitty hand in life, are tired of waiting for God to heal, who are angered by being preached to and prayed for, who are just DONE with religion because THEIR SOULS HAVEN’T BEEN AWAKENED by the influence of traditional church. Those who have straight up been damaged by the church-hurt and had it justified under the guise of “God’s will”. Friends who circle the drain but yet always find the strength to dig out, or at least reach out for someone to grab their hand. I’m one of those hands. That’s my service. And that’s been their service to me, as well.

My service looks more like checking in on or simply sending a note of love to the kindred spirits I’ve been gifted in my tribe - my church (the people) 

 Many times, church in a building robs me of that. It rapes my peace. I have no clearer way to describe it. Churches have crushed my spirit and crushed me again when I look to the faces of the far-from-God guests that I’ve brought with me. When I can do church hand-in-hand with my husband, when I can belt my heart out to age-old hymns and when I can listen to new stories that captivate every ounce of my attention, stealing it into another dimension of wonder for 45 minutes, messages that encourage me to turn from shame and embrace grace, that stretch and challenge me to love- actively, practically LOVE more authentically, to TRUST THE HEART, MIND & BODY that God has made exactly for me and left me with a Spirit guide to show me how to use my gifts (that I FAR TOO OFTEN shrug off because humans have directed me differently - either harshly via words or implied through actions or inaction. My believing them, my allowing them to break my spirit, was truly a disobedience to my calling)… Sermons that leave me feeling more connected to God and the people in the seats around me…that is the church I am truly grateful for. Paula Stone Williams, Bob Goff <3

Churches have crushed my spirit and crushed me again when I look to the faces of the far-from-God guests that I’ve brought with me. 

 Mama and I were just chatting about what we want to be when we grow up. She’s tired of the crutches and ready to just get out and around. I said I think I’m going to try to get Zane in preschool full day this year because he NEEEEDS so much more interaction than I am mentally able to provide him with and he thrives on socialization. The time away from each other will only make our together times more meaningful and we’ll be better able to love each other. Then I told her how, when I was in 5th grade, I was going to be an elementary school English teacher. When I graduated high school, I was going to be a child psychologist…

We all know how that turned out. If you don’t have a solid plan at graduation of at least what you will and won’t accept for your life and you have a fragile sense of self worth and a big ol’ empty attention hole in your soul and waaaay too much love to give out that no one was previously around to recognize, receive or return…well, you might come out of your 20’s gushing with pathetic brokenness. BUT you might also find yourself lucky enough to look down as you take your last running step out of the city behind you, which is crumbling to the ground, and realize that you’ve escaped that battleground grasping a tiny human prize in your beaten up arms who needs you and wants you (for the first 10 years, at least) which makes the whole struggle worth it.

And then single mom-dom. When that chip on your shoulder - the “I can do it all alone (because I always have and just have to)” starts to dissolve, when it begins to get in the way of relationship and you realize an inability to be vulnerable because you know better… Oh, how it breaks you down on your knees BEGGING for something…more. More chances for his future, more rapid maturing, confidence, patience and knowledge for you. Tougher skin. MERCY. FORGIVENESS. Which brings you back to God.

And finding your way back to God? Your OWN God, not your parental figure’s God used to scare you into submission to their need for control or to the evils of societal norms, but The REAL version of God? The one who wants to prosper you and not hurt you? The one who adored you all along, unconditionally, and had arms WIDE open, patiently waiting for you to just WANT to crawl up into them and deeply exhale everything you’ve been carrying on your own, impossibly… The God who was modeled by my Jesus who walked among us LOVING, DE-SHAMING, standing up for the weak, the lesser, the bullied, the hurting. The one who recognized his own human need for quiet, alone, recharging before draining himself of his purpose, pouring out into those around him. TOTALLY worth it. That was the point all along.

And then you may spend the next 20 years thinking you’re doing it all wrong - religioning, churching (or not churching), publicly sharing, publicly questioning and challenging, parenting while under the influence of overwhelm, totally hating the idea of textbook wife-dom, being sane, in general? - all wrong. Screwing it all up, but every now and then, a glimmer of hope that you did a few things kinda OK. And then you remember and are warmed and reassured by a thing called “grace”. And then you keep going, wrapped safely in that grace.

But, I digress. SO MUCH. Whew! Sorry about that. Back on track, back on track. My POINT in writing THIS post has to do with my short conversation with Mama this morning. DO YOU KNOW WHAT MY MOTHER SAID TO ME when I reminisced about my childhood dreams that I had for my future? So sweetly and convincingly and with this tender, fond knowing and encouragement that came from MY MOTHER:

“Well, you are very good with children. You have a special way of explaining things to them. You’re a very good mother.”

I’m not crying. YOU’RE CRYING!

You guys. This progress - this spiritual surrounding of new and healing and resetting and relearning in my life and those around me- I can’t make this up. I am so in awe of my Maker.

Ha! How’s THAT for skipping half of church each month to hang on to some sanity? Ain’t no church like the church of LIFE that I’ve been living lately…

And then you keep going, wrapped safely in that grace. 

 **Please know that I write to share my point of view, my truth, my reality and in NO WAY mean to suggest that others should feel the same exact way or that there is something wrong with going to a church building regularly or that my current & previous pastors and other “really good Christians” are ALL wrong or even “bad people”. Not at all. I question and disagree and push beyond what I know is safe territory because I KNOW that there is more to the story that God wants us to live in, but I also LOVE and am grateful for each person’s role in my life. Every single one of them. No disrespect meant to anyone. Just questioning, grace, learning, understanding and LOVE wanted from and for all. <3

[ruffprincess]

Church Break, Mama Breakthrough.

Like I've shared before, I have made a decision to stay back from church (the building) every 2nd & 4th Sunday while my husband and kids volunteer in the kids building for all 3 services. They were MADE for crowds and full of energy. It's right up their alley. God is using them there in great ways AND using those experiences in BIG WAYS to shape them. I'm proud of them, I support them and I am grateful for their willingness to serve people in this way.

I am different from them. I have finally overcome the guilt and the shame preached on me by pastors and fellow Christians that I. SHOULD. SERVE. IN. MY. CHURCH. (the building) - pass offering plates, pour coffee, set up chairs, teach classes...(all necessary tasks to keep a church organization running, thank you to those who do this work!) That my inability to muster up enough spoons to be among the noise and chaos of bulk human interaction was somehow a sin, a disobedience to my calling.

My service comes in different forms. In self care - in quiet recharging and filling of my patience and love tanks before the craziness that is children and a um... "youthful" husband come roaring back in. In gentle talks with my mother over coffee. In updating her ideas of what a woman can and cannot do with their life. In reteaching her God's love. In sitting alone on the porch in gratefulness, soaking in nature, the breeze, watching the ants carry food back to their families. In thinking. In planning. In processing the events of the week, the month, life...pondering what each of my family members need from me, need prayer for, might benefit by, if I could change my reactions or take a different angle of approach to next time. In small acts of service around the house - rescuing a toy or device that almost was a goner, picking up and organizing an area in a way that will make it ready and easier to be used as soon as it is needed. Visually surveying their living spaces and gaining insight about how they function daily, what they need to succeed. What will make life simpler so there is more time for the important stuff - calm, loving togetherness. Preparing myself spiritually for the human interactions I will have throughout the week. Taking in what I need for me in order to have what I'll need and want to give to them.

My service looks more like checking in on or simply sending a note of love to the kindred spirits I've been gifted in my tribe - my church (the people) - along the way - the ones who are mentally in pieces, unsure they want to continue, those who are chronically or terminally ill, energy given to them in waves, never knowing when they'll be able to leave the house again, some who never will. Those who are overwhelmed, overworked, underthanked, some who have been dealt a plain old shitty hand in life, are tired of waiting for God to heal, who are angered by being preached to and prayed for, who are just DONE with religion because THEIR SOULS HAVEN'T BEEN AWAKENED by the influence of traditional church. Those who have straight up been damaged by the church-hurt and had it justified under the guise of "God's will". Friends who circle the drain but yet always find the strength to dig out, or at least reach out for someone to grab their hand. I'm one of those hands. That's my service. And that's been their service to me, as well.

Many times, church in a building robs me of that. It rapes my peace. I have no clearer way to describe it. Churches have crushed my spirit and crushed me again when I look to the faces of the far-from-God guests that I've brought with me. When I can do church hand-in-hand with my husband, when I can belt my heart out to age-old hymns and when I can listen to new stories that captivate every ounce of my attention, stealing it into another dimension of wonder for 45 minutes, messages that encourage me to turn from shame and embrace grace, that stretch and challenge me to love- actively, practically LOVE more authentically, to TRUST THE HEART, MIND & BODY that God has made exactly for me and left me with a Spirit guide to show me how to use my gifts (that I FAR TOO OFTEN shrug off because humans have directed me differently - either harshly via words or implied through actions or inaction. My believing them, my allowing them to break my spirit, was truly a disobedience to my calling)... Sermons that leave me feeling more connected to God and the people in the seats around me...that is the church I am truly grateful for. Paula Stone Williams, Bob Goff <3

Mama and I were just chatting about what we want to be when we grow up. She's tired of the crutches and ready to just get out and around. I said I think I'm going to try to get Zane in preschool full day this year because he NEEEEDS so much more interaction than I am mentally able to provide him with and he thrives on socialization. The time away from each other will only make our together times more meaningful and we'll be better able to love each other. Then I told her how, when I was in 5th grade, I was going to be an elementary school English teacher. When I graduated high school, I was going to be a child psychologist...

We all know how that turned out. If you don't have a solid plan at graduation of at least what you will and won't accept for your life and you have a fragile sense of self worth and a big ol' empty attention hole in your soul and waaaay too much love to give out that no one was previously around to recognize, receive or return...well, you might come out of your 20's gushing with pathetic brokenness. BUT you might also find yourself lucky enough to look down as you take your last running step out of the city behind you, which is crumbling to the ground, and realize that you've escaped that battleground grasping a tiny human prize in your beaten up arms who needs you and wants you (for the first 10 years, at least) which makes the whole struggle worth it.

And then single mom-dom. When that chip on your shoulder - the I CAN DO IT ALL ALONE (because I always have and just have to) starts to dissolve, when it begins to get in the way of relationship and you realize an inability to be vulnerable because you know better... Oh, how it breaks you down on your knees BEGGING for something...more. More chances for his future, more rapid maturing, confidence, patience and knowledge for you. Tougher skin. MERCY. FORGIVENESS. Which brings you back to God.

And finding your way back to God? Your OWN God, not your parental figure's God used to scare you into submission to their need for control or to the evils of societal norms, but The REAL version of God? The one who wants to prosper you and not hurt you? The one who adored you all along, unconditionally, and had arms WIDE open, patiently waiting for you to just WANT to crawl up into them and deeply exhale everything you've been carrying on your own, impossibly... The God who was modeled by my Jesus who walked among us LOVING, DE-SHAMING, standing up for the weak, the lesser, the bullied, the hurting. The one who recognized his own human need for quiet, alone, recharging before draining himself of his purpose, pouring out into those around him.

And then you may spend the next 20 years thinking you're doing it all wrong - religioning, churching (or not churching), publicly sharing, publicly questioning and challenging, parenting while under the influence of overwhelm, totally hating the idea of textbook wife-dom, being sane, in general? - all wrong. Screwing it all up, but every now and then, a glimmer of hope that you did a few things kinda OK. And then you remember and are warmed and reassured by a thing called "grace". And then you keep going, wrapped safely in that grace.

But, I digress. SO MUCH. Whew! Sorry about that. Back on track, back on track. My POINT in writing THIS post has to do with my short conversation with Mama this morning. DO YOU KNOW WHAT MY MOTHER SAID TO ME when I reminisced about my childhood dreams that I had for my future? So sweetly and convincingly and with this tender, fond knowing and encouragement that came from MY MOTHER:

"Well, you are very good with children. You have a special way of explaining things to them. You're a very good mother."

I'm not crying. YOU'RE CRYING!

You guys. This progress - this spiritual surrounding of new and healing and resetting and relearning in my life and those around me- I can't make this up. I am so in awe of my Maker.

Ha! How's THAT for skipping half of church each month to hang on to some sanity? Ain't no church like the church of LIFE that I've been living lately...

**Please know that I write to share my point of view, my truth, my reality and in NO WAY mean to suggest that others should feel the same exact way or that there is something wrong with going to a church building regularly or that my current & previous pastors and other "really good Christians" are ALL wrong or even "bad people". Not at all. I question and disagree and push beyond what I know is safe territory because I KNOW that there is more to the story that God wants us to live in, but I also LOVE and am grateful for each person's role in my life. Every single one of them. No disrespect meant to anyone. Just questioning, grace, learning, understanding and LOVE wanted from and for all. <3