7

I would like to begin this blog by telling you: I'm tired.

I am so stinkin' tired.

I am tired of checking Facebook. I am tired of trying to stay trendy. I am tired of how much good food I let go to waste, how many pairs of shoes I own, and how many paper towels I use on the daily. I am tired of having the impulse to get the biggest, sweetest, most caffeinated thing at the coffee shop. I'm tired of patting myself on the back for reading my Jesus Calling devotional every morning. I'm tired of this ridiculous belief that I need more stuff.

It's exhausting. Seriously. And it's weighing on me.

This blog post was supposed to be about something else entirely. But then I finally sat down and read this book 7 by Jen Hatmaker - and I have to do something. And I wanted to invite you to join me or at least watch me struggle.

If you haven't heard of it, 7 is written by this crazy woman who speaks my language and it is a seven month lifestyle experiment. Essentially, it's a crusade against excess covering seven different areas:

Month 1: Food
Month 2: Clothes
Month 3: Possessions
Month 4: Media
Month 5: Waste
Month 6: Spending
Month 7: Stress

Some of you are slowly backing away from the computer. I can feel it. I kind of am too. It's uncomfortable. I don't want to sort through these things. I like them the way they are because it's comfortable.

But there's something in my soul that wants more.

Not more, in a trenta-cinnamon-dolce-latte kind of way.

More in a what-does-Jesus-want-from-me kind of way.

And yes, my immediate excuse was "I know what Jesus wants, and I am doing my best!"

But honestly? I'm tired of that excuse, too. I'm not doing my best. I'm punching my card as a positive, prayerful person and then doing what I want with the rest of my life. I'm tired of it. I want more. I want to know what Jesus has for me on the other side of excess. I want him to break my heart, and show me what He cares about. And I think some of that is going to come through this experiment.

I know some of you are currently pulling your bag of tortilla chips closer and closer to your chest. I see you, and my heart cries out for you. These are my chips, my fridge full of food, my closet full of clothes - I do not want to give any of my comforts up.

But why?

Why can't I let go?

That's why I'm writing this blog. Because I read this book in under two hours, sobbing my way through this woman's story of sacrifice and change - and then I said in my heart "But I couldn't do that."

Because...

• My friends and I like to go out to eat
• I love clothes, and Pinterest, and Zulily
• I just got a full time job and I want to enjoy that beautiful new paycheck to the fullest
• We just moved into a house, I finally have enough room for my stuff 
• I hate recycling
• And I love social media
• I don't even want to talk about dealing with my time management skills

No thank you.

As soon as that thought came to me, "I couldn't do that", I felt so ridiculous and then I quickly felt ashamed.

Why? Why, Emily?

Because I secretly believe I deserve the things that I have, and I should get to enjoy them without thinking about the kids that are hungry down the street and I shouldn't be guilted into sharing my wealth by some hippie Christian experiment.

But if I am being as truthful as I can be... I'm so tired of the excess, of the utter gluttony I see in my life. And I want something more.

So here I go, dear people of the internet. I am starting this experiment March 1st, 2016. Expect updates. You will be updated.

If you want to join me in my quest, if you want to watch me suffer, or you just can't look away from my strangeness here's the 7 blog that I'll update more frequently as I journey.

This blog post was supposed to be about my friend Mo, and how she handles life like a champ. I could go on for hours about that fact, instead I will just tell you this:

I called Morgan in the middle of chapter three, crying over how much I spent on an Easter dress this year and asking her to walk with me through the next 7 months of crazy. This is utterly the smallest thing I have ever asked her to walk with me through, and she has never balked. Also roughly the 1,000th time I have called her in tears - she has yet to hang up.

If it sounds like I've lost my mind, I count it a good thing; but feel free to call Garrett to make sure I'm not left alone for too long.

I hope this blog bothers the crap out of you. In the friendliest way possible.

With love,

Emily LeVault

Emily's 10 under $10

The beginning of the year is all about making changes, setting new goals and eating salad. So as you're choosing new habits and kicking old ones, I would like to give you my top ten life-changing items under $10!

1. Head lamp: useful for camping, refereeing glow-in-the-dark-dodgeball, and patrolling capture the flag.

2. Peek-a-boo barn: scoff all you like, there is no faster, more sure fire way to appease unhappy toddlers in your vicinity, plus they then view you as the person who has the fun game on their phone, and are therefore more excited to see you.

3. Battery powered socks: this basically saved our marriage, and our heating bill. My feet are warm, the rest of the house is cold, Garrett doesn't throw up when the gas bill comes in.

4. Dollar shave club: it's actually really, really cheap, easy and smart. Go Google it...

5. A succulent: I named mine Rosie, because she is not, in fact, a rose.

6. The grocery clip: which has been the most underrated invention of our generation.

7.  The Norwex face clothe: officially more effective than any face wash I have ever tried.

8. Sally Hansen's 2-step gel nail polish: it lasts forever!!!

9. McAllister's Iced Tea: run, don't walk! A McAllister's just opened in Springfield, and it will rock your world.

10. An adult coloring book: sometimes it's good to force yourself to sit down and do something that is unproductive. If you're like me, it sounds awful- but give it a chance. 

The beginning of the year sometimes seems vast and intimidating. I feel pressure to make resolutions and do Jillian Michael's workout videos. 

But I have two thoughts to share before you force yourself to eat anymore kale. 

A) Too much change is not a good thing. Your sweet brain and all the beautiful chemicals and connections within it need time when navigating change. So don't overload it.

B) Resolutions are often self-degrading. Doing small kindnesses for yourself will make a big difference in the way you feel about everyday life. It doesn't have to be a vacation, or a new car - it can actually just be a succulent that you keep in the window. Be kinder to you this year. 

With Love,

Emily LeVault

P.S. I think my New Years resolution is to hang out with more kittens. Just look at it. 

37 things I learned this year

I love traditions. I like to keep track of change and growth. And my sister is getting married in less than two days so my creativity is a little frazzled. So here's 37 things I learned this year:


1. Moving sucks. On all levels. At every point. From wrestling the packing tape onto boxes, to the painful goodbyes. Moving Sucks.

2. Growing out your bangs takes way more time that I thought.

3. Graduation gowns make no sense. I bought this awesome dress so that I could cover it with the polyester equivalent of a garbage bag.

4. Ummm guacamole is awesome!!! Why didn't I know this before now???

5. When your mom gets a boyfriend, it's pretty equal parts of gross and cute.

6. My wedding cake was delicious. Again - why didn't I know this before?

7. Most of the experimental frappuccino flavors were awful. Just sayin'.

8. How to play Dominion. It's nerdy, but it's fun. But mostly only if you're a nerd.

9. Luke really likes ice cream. I probably should've guessed this, but it's a new thing for us this year.

10. It's okay to work a job that you don't love, so that you have health insurance for the person you do love.

11. I really miss my job at the YMCA.

12. There is a TON of paperwork involved when buying a house. If you're wondering where the rainforest went - it's in my loan application.

13. How to make a pour over coffee... or is it just 'a pour over'. Obviously I didn't learn the lingo.

14. Justin Bieber isn't all bad. This new album is pretty cool.

15.  The difference between Dementia and Depression in older adults. Often misdiagnosed.

16. The greatest class I ever took in college was American Military History, in my very last semester, in the town of Fort Wayne, Indiana. Who would've thought.

17. How to DIY a kimono.

18. Make sure you measure twice for curtains and couches.

19. How to put up a tent in the woods... you call Mom. That's how.

20. Meme apps are the best. Especially if you have an ugly crying face picture of your sister. Or you create a pig named Pablo.

21. Having a fake son for a week was way easier than you all make parenting out to be.

22. I don't know why my mom didn't kill me before I made it to adulthood.

23. How to use a selfie stick.

24. This whole pulling trend with coconut oil is just gross, and I can't do it.

25. How to lose your mind at the Vera Bradley Annual Sale, and then suddenly regain your sanity when you get your total at the checkout. Ouch.

26. Time with people I love became more valuable this year.

27. I don't need more clothes.

28. Avatar the last Airbender is on Amazon Prime Video.

29. Donuts fix just about anything. Except obesity.

30. Trust your husband. He may just come  home with a fantastic couch. But also send Shea with him. That helps too.

31. To be loved by a good man is more rare than I thought.

32. Dysons really are better.

33. The cassette tapes I listened to as a kid are now available on iTunes.

34. Apple Music may be better than Spotify, but love is love. And I love Spotify.

35. If I was brave enough, I could pull off maroon lipstick. I'm just not that brave.

36. Krispy Kreme is not Dunkin Donuts. Krispy Kreme will never be Dunkin Donuts.

37. The older I get, the faster time passes.

Coolest year ever. Seriously. Starting in total confusion, and ending in a home - my own home - in a town full of people I love, in a place where I belong and thirty minutes away from my mom. That's a pretty big leap folks, and I'm still reeling from it to be honest. How could this all have been just one year?

Thank you for being part of my year.

With Love,

Emily LeVault

That thing he said about you

I've made a few mistakes in life (maybe more than a few...), and one of them included dating someone I just shouldn't have. Right now you might be wondering why I bring this up, you might be grossed out, or you might be afraid this is going to be one of those cathardic, way-too-personal-posts.

Deep breath. Stick with me.

A few weeks ago, something really cool happened. I heard this same guy had recently dumped someone else. For whatever reason, I decided I would call that girl.

It's weird, I know. But it felt like something I needed to do.

It was the coolest seven minute conversation I've ever had, and I spent all of it telling her the things I wish someone had told me when I got dumped.

I also realized, it's probably time to take my own advice.

And because we are tight [you and me, here on the internet] I think you need to hear it too.
If you hate it, just ignore it. Otherwise, listen up.

This is not a roast. Even though that could be fun, in a mean-girl-Emily-minus-Jesus-kind-of-way. I'm not roasting this guy.

I will tell you that I don't think about him often, but when I do, only a few words come to mind. It's something he pointed out to me while we were dating, that has been stuck in my head long afterwards:

"You have no personality."

If you didn't chuckle, please feel free to chuckle. Because it's funny. It's a stupid comment, that is so very, very false, for about a million reasons.

Psychology taught me that people are born with personality, that genetics give us personality traits that are evident within the first year of life. Nature and Nurture come together to develop the good, the bad and the ugly within us. A person would have to be nonexistent, to have never ever existed, in order to have no personality.

I know this.

My brain knows this.

I have a piece of paper from Purdue University that says I know this.

But for some reason, I've carried those words around in my head for way too long.

I have allowed them to rent space in my thoughts, in my doubts, to creep out when I was about to go into a job interview, on my first date with Garrett, even when I thought about starting a blog.

Those words someone else had spoken over me, "You have no personality" had me wondering if other people would think the same thing. Would I fall flat? Would I ever be able to communicate what I think and feel? Do people understand what I'm passionate about, what I love, what I hate? Because according to this lie I've let hang out in my heart, I have no personality.

I called that girl because a part of me knew that she too was in the midst of holding onto something she shouldn't.

And I wanted to tell her one thing before it was too late: No one else decides who you are. Not boyfriends, not bosses, not parents, professors, grades.  

None of them.

Maybe I'm just a little nuttier than the rest of you, but I doubt it. So that phrase that's popped into your head while you were reading this - let's get rid of it.

A fantastic way to stop negative self-talk and the cycle of negative thoughts is to memorize a Counter Truth. A Counter Truth is exactly what is sounds like; you need to contradict that negativity with something positive, until you believe it. It needs to be specific and ruthless.

Get serious with your brain. It's yours. You need to take every thought captive. Because if you can cut out gluten and sugar and dairy and post all over my newsfeed about it - then you can do this too.

That thing he said about you, it is not who you are.

Even if it's true. Because maybe what they labeled you with, came from some grain of truth.

Same principle stands.

No one else gets to be the end-all be-all of who you are.

If you're breathing, you've got time to change. You decide who you are, not Joe Smoe. And not the jerk who dumped you.

There is One who made you, who created the DNA that dictates that personality of yours. He knows you. He defines you. You are Beloved, that is your name.

Today, I can laugh at what this person said about me. I am ridiculously fiesty, adorable and hilarious. I'm stinkin' delightful. You would have to be blind, deaf and dead to miss my personality.

But honestly? I can tell you that for weeks afterwards I was scrambling to find my personality, because he'd told me I didn't have one. And I don't want that for you.

Scariest thing ever: my baby sister, Lou, is on the dating scene. Yikes. And she's on my mind as I write this. I don't want her to hold onto to this nonsense that might be spoken over her. I don't want that for our youth kids, my mom, or for you. But I can't get in your brain and sort out the ugly stuff. That's up to you.

So go forth and kick butt, friends. It's even more important than being gluten-free.

*P.S. I'm not a licensed Psychologist, so do not replace valuable mental health treatment from a professional with my goofy blog post. 

With Love,

Emily LeVault

Dear Kendahl

Dear Kendahl,

I'm writing you a letter instead of telling you things in person for a few reasons:

 a) it's October, which is also pastor appreciation month, and I wanted to appreciate you

b) this summer in a leader's meeting at CIY we were asked to raise our hands if someone had invested in us as teenagers, and I did. Which (of course) made me cry and feel like I needed to thank you

c) you and I are awkward human beings, and if I say it to your face I'll never be able to get through it

When I think about my time in youth group - I cannot remember a single message that Bryan ever preached.

I'm sure they were great, but the lasting impact was the time that you both spent on me.

 Now that I have my own marriage, a job outside of the church, a house and a dog I'm beginning to understand just what it cost you to stop and make time for me.

So, thank you.

Thank you for letting me bake 50 cupcakes in your kitchen for Hannah's surprise party.

Thank you for always being real and honest about life in ministry.

Thank you for taking an entire Saturday to drive me to Lincoln Christian University for a college visit.

Thank you also for eating 20 chicken nuggets with me on the way home.

Thank you for giving good advice, even though sometimes it was tough to hear.

Thank you for asking the hard questions.

Thank you for opening up your home for countless Bible studies, small groups and random meetings.

Thank you for taking us to Steak n' Shake in the middle of the night after that car accident so we didn't have to be alone, even though you were 5 months pregnant annd probably exhausted.

Thank you for listening to my never-ending boyfriend woes.

Thank you for the endless cups of coffee.

Thank you for never making me feel like I was wasting your time.

Thank you for arguing with your husband in front of me -- it's how I figured out people who love each other can still disagree.

Thank you for listening to my current rants about life as a youth pastor's wife.

Thank you for still giving me advice that's challenging.

There are days when I come home from youth group with a heavy heart, and I wonder how on Earth you ever did this. Even with your own struggles and worries, you always made time for me. I didn't get it when I was in high school -  but I'm starting to understand just how hard your job was.

And you have never decked a rude church lady.

In the last year I've come to understand just how much self control that takes, but you still respond with grace.

Thank you for being my youth pastor's wife. Please know that on days when it's hard for me to want to stay up late with teenagers, or open up my home or be at church -- I remember that a youth pastor's wife showed me love on my very worst days. I'm making good on your investment.

Sincerely,

Emily 

Adult-ing is hard. Have a donut.

Lately, I'm in this awkward transitioning stage of life, caught between making Ramen with my Keurig and getting excited about things like health insurance benefits.

I feel like I'm supposed to know what I want out of life.

I feel pressure to be doing epic, bold, and equally responsible things while simultaneously writing a novel and winning my first Nobel Peace Prize.

When most of the time I'm struggling to decide what to eat for breakfast. 

I mean seriously, it's like everywhere I go people want to know when I'm having kids and then they want to know how many kids, and then it gets into this weird-judgey-cycle where they tell me how wrong I am for wanting 23 kids (kidding).

And if I'm not popping out babies, I must sprint to the opposite end of the spectrum and be on some kind of amazing, incredible career path with all of my ducks in row, ready to end world hunger in the next few years.

Guys. 

Some mornings I don't even put on eyeliner because I'm pretty sure I'll do it wrong. I can't decide whether or not to cut two inches off my hair, and I'm just now realizing that Pumpkin Spiced Lattes are not calorie free.

The thought of being a mother terrifies me most of the time because there are days that I want ice cream NOW and I refuse to shower -- I can't be responsible for a tiny human being.

I'm 23 and I [still] have no idea what I want to do with my life.

I just know I can't do it with a Bachelor's Degree in Psychology. 

I want to wear #flannelonflannel but I have a job that requires khakis.

And I'm saying all this because here's what I'm learning: I am enough. 

Right now, in this very moment, with my chipped fingernail polish and my temporary desk job - I am enough.

In all honesty, I like eating Coco Puffs and staying up late to play nerdy board games.

I don't have any idea what to go to grad school for and I don't want a new car.

I like my crappy furniture and the freedom I have to make Garrett cook his own dinner.

I'm even getting better at liking what size jeans I wear.

The point is that I know you are out there reading this and you're not engaged, and no one is hiring you and you are not finding the cure for cancer and everyone wants to know when you're getting a "real" job, or finally settling down, or having kids.

But you need to listen to me: you are enough. So long as you are doing things that are right and good and kind -- you are still enough. 

I have these days where I just sit and freak out; one question about my future leads to another and another which leads to a tailspin of donut eating.

The truth is: I am not pregnant with twins, I don't have a PhD in Psychology and I don't know what I'm going to do when my poor Camry finally quits.

Someday I'm going to publish a book and have a dozen children and maybe even get my Masters... but that is not today folks.

Today I'm going to eat spaghetti in my rental house. Because I can.

8 tips to surviving Small Town Life [from a city slicker]

Once upon a time a country mouse and a city mouse fell in love.
And it was bizarre for everyone involved.

I grew up in the massive metropolis of Springfield, Illinois and my sweet husband grew up in the middle of a field somewhere in Illinois - we come from different worlds.

There were a lot of culture shocks for me when I first got into Edinburg, honestly I'll write a book about it sometime. There were also a fair amount of culture shocks for Garrett when we moved to the booming city of Fort Wayne, Indiana. But the tides have turned and I find myself now LIVING in a small town - something I did not exactly dream of as a little girl.

 My time in Fort Wayne made me soft, according to Garrett, so this summer I have had to relearn these 8 essentials to survival in a small town. I think it's only fair that you have them as well for the next time you find yourself in a town that could fit its entire population into a good sized clown car.

1. Wave - at everyone. This is essential, this is the epitome of etiquette, you MUST do this in order to survive. If you don't wave, you're probably a snob and no one will trust you.

2. Learn something about corn. When all else fails, crops are a great fall back. Everyone sees them, they tell the weather, they tell the season, and someone always wants to complain about how tall-short-green-dry or dead they are. If you can make one intelligent corn comment, the farmers in the room will take it from there.

3. Do NOT ask where the Starbucks is, do NOT ask where the Dunkin' Donuts is. It's in the city, that's where it is and there's coffee at Casey's down the road. Also - you will be mocked.

4. Locking doors is optional. Most of the time no one will break in, the rest of the time intruders will be shot on sight. So really, don't worry about it.

5. Beware of the amount of privacy that exists in a small town - there is none. So if you're building a fence, grilling a steak or you're locked out of your house for the third time and you're crawling through the kitchen window - there will be someone who sees, someone will know.

6. Free range chickens. You know those cows that just roam around in India? Free range chickens, my friends, so stop staring.

7. The lingo will get to you. You will find yourself referring to traveling to the nearest Walmart as "going into town". Grab your bonnet, hitch up the horses and do not forget your wallet...this is no 15 minute trek.

8. The thing I have always found strangest about small town life is something I struggled to put my finger on at first. People move slower, they stop to talk to each other, they know their neighbors, you can just walk to someone's house for dinner and they aren't all that amazing at doing things on time. Here's why: for whatever reason, there still exists a level of grace for one another, a margin for error built right into small town life. It goes against my need for schedules and lists and rules and timeliness-that's for sure. But - hey- it works.

Since we moved I have found myself missing my daily Dunkin' and the seven minute commute to work. But as Garrett lovingly reminds me - there is not enough Dunkin' in the world to make up for being only 30 minutes away from my mom...and Sonic. So should you ever find yourself in a small town - I hope this helps you yuppies survive.

With Love,

Emily LeVault