Saturday, January 21, 2017

Hi, it's been a while.

I love women.

A friend who gracefully raises a special needs daughter.

I love women.

A friend who fights cancer.

I love women.

A friend who daily hits her knees, praying for our country, her family and friends.

I love women.

A friend who stays home for a season to raise her children and help her husband climb that ladder.

I love women.

A friend who is a maker, kneading bread and working the land.

A friend who operates non-profits for the betterment of our world, while serving me homemade cookies on her wonderful lived on table.

A single mother.

A tri-athlete.

A teacher.

Preachers wife.

These women.. 

Deep, passionate, amazing, honestly breathtaking women of faith and beauty. 

Books and poems could be written about them. (or blog posts from anxious nobodies)

Let me tell you a little not so secret about these ladies.

Some voted for Hilary.

Some voted for Trump.

Tis true. 

Please, honestly ask yourself, does this mean that their accomplishments, struggles and strength are lessened in anyway?

Not. One. Bit.

At some point in the last few years, who we punch that button for has begun to override so many other things.. so many more IMPORTANT things.

Real things. Honest and true things. Daily things. Beautiful things.

I cannot stress enough how much this idea diminishes so many of the very best things about our fairer sex. 
(and yes we are better looking)

Anger, bitterness and worst of all, shaming overshadows relationships.. Why? 

Because of who we voted for, who we follow on Twitter, facebook likes and what we believe about health care?

I'm not trying to trivialize the issues we hold dear.. but.

While they are important to us (rightfully so) should you stop talking to your best friend from 6th grade because she voted for Hilary, Trump? 

Honestly, will you let a flawed, elected, entitled Republican or Democrat have that much control over you? Over your relationships, your home life, your children's life..

I think you're better than that, stronger, clearer minded, more graceful. I think most of you love deeply and truthfully want what is best for yourself and your family. 

Isabelle told me story this morning.. let me share it with you.

(Sissy and a dear sweet friend discussing the upcoming woman's march here in Seattle) 

"Isabelle, how come you don't want to go to the march?"

"I don't want to."


"I'm not going and just like I'm not mad at you for going, please don't be mad at me for NOT going."

This is what has left our conversation. Grace. Rising above. Leaving the shame and anger off the table.

So much wisdom from ones so young.

Let me ask you a question. 

What if we all woke up tomorrow and found that God had created us with a cookie cutter?

What if all our ideas and thoughts were exactly the same, if we all drove the same car, wore the same color, read the same books, lived in tiny beige houses with perfectly manicured lawns.. 

all with the same political signs posted, a gilded winner written in bright patriotic colors.

That is not this life. 

You can do hard things.

You can rise above.

That woman sitting across the aisle from you is also a mother, wife, teacher and friend. She also wants what she believes is best for her family and future. 

And she wants it with just as much passion as you do. Please remember that.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Loss of cabin pressure.

If you have flown in the last oh.. 40 years you have heard this spiel.

"In the case of cabin depressurization your oxygen mask will be deployed"  words... "please secure your mask before assisting others..." more words... can we just leave already... I wonder if she has dry skin... more words... why are we NOT moving.. words..

Last week I was actually listening to her, (while wondering about her beauty regiment) when for the first time, I actually heard her.

"please secure your mask before assisting others"


Please make sure you are safe first, because a dead Amber can't help the passenger sitting next to me.

No really.. check this..

Amber.. are you viable, are you stable (ish), is your grass green, is your heart right with your Maker, are your motives pure, is your ego in check, have you prayed about it, drank enough water, had a decent night of sleep in the last 6 months, are you breathing deep?

Is your mask secure?

Because really girl.. If you are fighting for your own last breath.. if you can only see the green grass on the other side, if your decisions are ruled by ego and insecurity.. how the heck can you be of any real help to that struggling passenger next to you.

Here is my truth and I would venture to say a truth for many of us.

Securing my own mask first is almost counter intuitive.  As Mommies (or women in general) are we not placed here on this earth to ensure the security of our families masks?

Hmmm.. but my loose mask will only pass on my poor breathing habits to those around me.. plus they will only get part of me.. only see me fighting for air.. only see me as half the person I was created to be.. simply because I did not take the time to take care of myself first.

Secure my own mask first.

Not perfectly. Not without battle scars or stories. Not without the knowledge that life happens..

Just breathing deep.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

The List... Running Style.

May 4th 2014.

To not much fanfare.. Most of the party had cleared out by the time I crossed the finish line, but my faithfuls were there.

I finished my first marathon.

26.2 miles.

I cried.

A lot.

My legs hurt real bad.

Like real real bad.

I kinda wanted to puke (but had already done so around mile 17) (sorry to the lady behind me at the water station)

I got my medal and started the shuffle back to the car.

"That was hard." I said between sniffles, and no lie. It was hard.

10 Things Running has taught me.. (in a ten part series) (I have a lot to say)

10.  "You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think"

(My marathon mantra) (Winnie-the-Pooh) (I'm hard core like that)

At some point in life I believed I wasn't a runner. It's not like it wasn't an unfounded belief, I'm super awkward at running (think chubby t-rex).. my high-school softball coach never let me past first base.. Amber with the base hit followed by "Pinch Runner!" was the norm. (I'm not bitter, I like to win too much, we needed the runs!) I've never been one to be unrealistic about my skills.. It's cool, I'm just not a runner.

I've spent the last 18 years avoiding running at all cost. It hurts, everything jiggles, my butt ALWAYS eats my shorts, it's hard to breathe and what the heck am I suppose to do with my hands!!!!! (t-rex runners unite!)

I held tight to that belief, wore that bad boy like a badge of honor.. believing it so much that I thought it would be physically impossible for me to run more than a mile.. like ever.

Dear reader... isn't this what we do?

Take something UNFOUNDED and mold it into our actual identity? Maybe you believe you don't deserve love, or money, or health, or sobriety, or true friendship or the forgiveness of a Savior..  so when people go around being all mean you think.. "thats ok.. I don't deserve a good friend anyways".. or a happy marriage.. success.. It's what we do.. it's how we cope..

it holds us back. It held me back.

So one night really late at the Y, I upped the speed on the treadmill.. fast walk.. faster walk.. hold onto the bars.. hey look.. I'm running!! (ish).

FACTS.. I did not die, I did not fly off the back of the treadmill like some horrid youtube video.. yes it hurt, yes I jiggled, yes my butt ate my shorts.. but hey... I did it, and let me tell you it felt FANTASTIC.

And please dear reader.. listen closely here.. because here is the quiet secret I learned that late night on the treadmill.

There are few things in life MORE empowering than accomplishing something that you never ever EVER dreamed possible for yourself. That quiet late night act of defiance radically shifted my perspective on.. well.. gosh everything.

It was not long after that night, a few minutes became a mile, then 5.. then outside.. then a 5k race, then 13.1.. then 20.. then 26.2.


Maybe for you it's not running (although secretly I hope that it is).. maybe it's a relationship, a job, or forgiveness.. dear reader you really ARE stronger than seem.. braver than you believe and smarter than you think.. you can do hard things.. and when you do, you won't ever be the same.


Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Parenting lessons at the Pinewood derby

The pinewood derby cars have now collected dust in the "favorite" things box.

In the blink of an eye, the brightly painted wooden cars have now taken the back seat to drivers licenses, tolo, SAT's and discussions about sexting.

(take a trip with me down memory lane, as once again the Strehle family paints a picture on how NOT to parent)

Twin B was coming off of his 2nd consecutive pinewood derby blue ribbon season.  He was arrogant and haughty in his pinewood derby prowess.

Twin A was coming off of his 2nd consecutive pinewood derby NO-ribbon season. He was seemingly unfazed.. maybe a little bit bothered about his lack of derby prowess.. but as per his usual easy going nature, taking it all in stride, like the easy going Twin A he is.

In step Mom and Dad (and a friend who we won't name to protect his identity)

**Lesson #1-It's most likely one of the most acute pains you will ever feel, at least it has been for me, watching your child suffer, physically, emotionally and well...unjustly is the worst.. or heck even when they deserve it! It still hurts!!! Momma bear is a term for a reason.. and sometimes we wrongly act out thinking we are protecting our wee cub**

Feeling particularly sad for Twin A's seemingly unjust derby situation we knew we had to take matters into our own hands.. Twin B needed to be put in his place! De-THRONED!! It was Twin A's time to shine.. plus it just was NOT FAIR!! Could Twin A's car beat Twin B's car just ONCE?! Was that too much to ask??

**Lesson #2-Um.. life is not fair.. EVER and trying to manipulate people, situations is dishonest and wrong. Yes I'm talking to us.. the coach/parent that rigs things in favor of your child.. you are doing him/her ZERO favors. Yes we ALL want what is best for our child.. but sometimes it turns out its more about our perception of what is best.. or even worse, its more about us.**

Race night!! A packed room full of pre-pubescent boys! The universal smell of pinewood derbies across the nation..

Now it just so happened my hubby had volunteered to help run the race.. and he had a plan.. maybe, just maybe if him and friend were to accidently oh say.. gently tweak a wheel on Twin B's car.. well maybe it was just going to slow it down enough for 2nd place.. 3rd? Not placing at all?? Just a little bit, not full on sabotage or anything.

**Lesson #3-Wrong is wrong.. but the good thing about messing up and doing something wrong is God can still work despite our error.. Yes we have the choice, but thankfully God still speaks in our failures.

Cars lined up for the first heat...

Twin B takes the race by a long-shot.

Then the next race, and the next.. then even after another "adjustment" before the final race...

Took the whole dang thing.  Even going on to the district competition and placing in the top 3.

It was like he was meant to win or something.. and nothing we could do would stop it.  Despite our best efforts to ensure what we thought was right, just and fair.. well God apparently had his own plan.

I have this theory on being a parent...

The moment you birth that beautiful chubby cherub is the very moment you have to start slowly letting go.. We grasp those wee fingers and toes so tightly.. know to our core that our very existence as a human has been changed forever.. At that moment we can't possibly imagine letting that hand go EVER. Our Maker is very gracious those first few years.. We trick ourselves into thinking those "milestones" of growing up have something to do with us, that first step might have been to us, but too soon those steps move past us.... and the crazy thing is.. that is how it was designed to be.

Parenting is a long lesson in letting go, having faith and finding the very careful balance between the two.

Fast forward a few years, Twin B has now had his fair share of losses. Some were easy, some well not so much.

And news flash.. Despite my best efforts, most of them had nothing to do with me.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Waking up

Where it began.

I think I've been slowly unraveling for a long time.

Some people call it middle age.

I call it waking up.

Facing ugly little lies that women seemingly buy in bulk.

Measuring self-worth in "Likes"

Impossible air brushed standards for our bodies.

The love of a spouse measured in carats.

Parenting for reflective glory.

Holding onto that job, because being "just a Mom" isn't enough.

Erasing the lines of wisdom from our very faces, because we feel shame when faced with age.

Like this whole idea that maybe when you were created there was some kind of cosmic mistake.

We are our own oppressor. 

Because all we can think about is fixing what is not really broken, looking for validation in everything except the things that actually matter, finding something to fill that void of emptiness that comes from filling your beautiful soul with LIES.

You are enough. 

500 likes or Zero likes 

You are enough.

Stretch marks or a banging body.

You are enough.

Kids that embarrass you on the basketball court or Kobe Bryant.

You are enough.

Never enough money or not a care in the world.

You are enough.

PTO president or CEO

You are enough.

"You are loved with an everlasting love."

You are enough.

Know yourself.

Speak for yourself.

You are beautiful, just the way God created you to be.

Don't believe the lies.

You are enough.

(a very heartfelt thank you for your kind welcome back comments.) 

(I do love all you so)

Monday, January 06, 2014

I'm sober.. I promise.

An unexpected adventure to Salvation Mountain

Dane Cook visited me in a dream and told me I needed to start writing again... like for reals.

Not God, or an angel, or anybody particularly cool.. Anne Lamott, Roald Dahl, Al Gore (just joking about the Al Gore being cool part).

Dane Cook.

Who is Dane Cook you ask? Yeah I had to ask myself that question as well.  I mean when was the last time I had even seen or heard of this guy? Well I just happen to have a little chat with him and his potty mouthed self in dream land. Lucky. Me.

Amber's (short)(but profound) Dream with a washed up early 2000's comedian.

***Picture me sitting around a large conference table in a really fabulous dress (that I saw on Pinterest the night before) chatting with Mr. Cook...***

Dane: How come you never told me?

Me: Well, I just didn't think it was that important?

Dane: It's important.

Me: Are we talking about the same thing? (other than my fabulous pinterest hair and bird dress)

Dane: You need to write again Amber.

Then I woke up... because it felt really real. Like for reals real. Like just as real as I'm sitting here typing this post.

Freaked. Me. Out.

So now you are thinking...

"OOOOHHHHH I know why Amber stopped blogging.. she went CRAZY"

Or maybe even worse.. you hardly noticed I was gone and all my thoughts about the narcissism of blogging are true.

But really here is the truth.. What was once easy became hard.. I'd start a post then I'm like..

"ooooh look, here is that mason jar, super food salad recipe, bed to 40k race schedule I've been looking for on Pinterest!"

I was distracted. I was scared. I was disingenuous, but Dane is right.. it's time.

I feel it.  That tricky muse is whispering.

2013 I wrote like 4 posts.. and they were all depressing... which kinda sorta explains my year, then finally I was like oh he-double hockey sticks, Ima just gonna give this up. So I did. For the first time in EIGHT YEARS I just stopped writing. At first I felt guilty.. it took my mind a long time to stop looking for things to write about, you know if there is an analogy to be found in that rock over there..I'm going to find it! Then I let a whole bunch of other things go.. like just left em'. Turned off the phone, stopped checking emails, stayed off of social media (ok I just lied about that last part) and pretty much just dropped off the radar.


For those of you who messaged, called, made snarky comments about my lack of blogging..

Thank you.

There were more of you than I had expected (humblebrag).

When I sat down today to finish this I looked back over some of the past 8 years of posting.. Some of my posts are awful (ok a lot)  BUT some made me smile, laugh and think, "dang someone needs to publish me" I've made friends here, lost friends here.. found parts of myself that were good and some not so good.

A good friend once told me, "Amber I've known you forever and there is this huge part of you I never knew about until I found you here" It's like this space is piece of my very soul that I feel too sacred to talk about, but safe to write about.

So write I must.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Counting change.

The older boys wanted to talk about it.. My ever current events focused first borns ask all the right questions. I think it might have been 5 minutes after I heard of Boston I received my first text.

"What happened in Boston?"

On the way home in the van we had the discussion about not talking about the bombing in front of #4.. who is 10.

The twins were irritated (which for the record happens everyday).

"Why do you always shelter us?"
"He will hear about it in school!"
"He has to realize that bad things happen in the world Mom."

All truth.

I think back to very moment I saw my Dad in the school office in 3rd grade. I knew something was wrong.  My rough, ginger bearded, old school father did not just stop by school.. ever. The only logical explanation was that I had missed a dentist appointment.

I made my way to the office, a little excited with the prospect of missing some school.. being singled out when the teacher told me to pack my stuff.. It was was a fine bit of fun!

That last bit of fun saw the end of my innocence. A few days later my Mom was gone and that skipping little girl had grown up. The harsh realities we face as (semi) mature adults had been thrust upon a skinny, mousy, little girl.

So last night I kept the radio off, forbade the use of the internet, banned all talk of bombs, races and sadness.  We ate, all 6 of my most precious people around the table. Thanked our Maker for his provision. When it came my turn to talk about my favorite part of the day I said,

"Right now."

"You always say that!!" They cried in unison.

Later #4 was counting the money in his piggy bank. I'm not just saying this because I'm his mother, but he looked angelic, so intent. He has these big plans for saving up a thousand dollars, so much childhood optimism. There is no such thing as a dream too big when you are 10 years old.

That is innocence.

A place where saving enough pennies to make a grand can happen overnight.
A place where you don't have to sit your wee babe down and talk about bombs, guns and evil.

Think what you may, the time will come when the world will chip away that innocence, but for now, I however will protect it.. nurture it.. fight for it.  For once it is gone it can never be regained.