In a Million Ways

"Can I just tell you that your pictures radiate happiness? I get the feeling that it is an accurate portrayal."

I received this from a dear and sweet friend just yesterday, and I quickly responded that she is correct. We are happy in a million ways. But also that really is only half the story because nothing is ever only roses or thorns. 

I have been quiet about the hard places in my life since our move, broadcasting all the ways moving back home is a gift, a truly extravagant gift. And it is. It has been, in some ways, like taking a tranquilizer - restful and without worry. Most things feel more doable, less overwhelming because my people are here. The people who already know my flaws and love me anyway. The people who love my kids like I do. The places that built the foundation of my story. That is a grounding, good thing, friends. Adelle rides her bike to my parents' house at least once a week just to bake cookies or visit for an hour. Josh's parents drop in for spontaneous visits. We do real and true life with my sister and her family. We get to see Josh's siblings far more often than we ever have before. When we go to church or to the store or to the bakery, we see people with whom we share genetics and history and unconditional love - and aside from Jesus there is little that is more comforting and restful and grounding. 

And also this move has been hard, too. We ache for Colorado almost daily. We miss the mountains, our church, our friends, and our neighborhood. We miss Jack's, daily walks to the bus stop, snow in the winter, and hammocks in the summer. I miss Ralston Creek Trail with everything inside of me. I miss Jill and Jennifer and Abby and Laurel and a million others. I miss walking through the doors at Storyline, exchanging "Hellos" and weekly updates among a church family that God allowed us to help build with our time and hands and prayers and tears. We had built a home and a life there that we loved very much. My oldest has struggled mightly to find her place. We have all struggled with insecurities and unsurety about where exactly we fit as new people, molded and changed by different cultures and places, back in a place that is largely the same as when we left. Just as wonderful and warm as ever - but different because we are different. 

I knew this would be the case, of course. I didn't expect to arrive home and have all my struggles and fears and doubts and insecurities be healed. This is not the way of God - to heal us with circumstances. I tell it to my single friends and those aching for a baby - and I tell it to myself. God heals us when we draw near to Him for healing. 

Just today I was reading the story in Mark 1 about the man with leprosy who approached Jesus and said, "If you are willing, heal me." And it says that Jesus felt great compassion toward the man and said, "I am willing." And He healed him.

Friends, we are all broken to pieces in a million ways - and I want you to know that while moving to my hometown has been good and wonderful in a million ways, too, it hasn't stitched up all my broken places. In fact, some pieces have split wider since arriving, and for that I am grateful because when I become aware of those broken places, I know I can run straight to the One who is willing and able to stitch me up whole again.

Circumstances will not make you whole. Only Jesus will. Are you running to him with all your yucky today?

On Falling Back in Love with Mothering: A Followup

Back in February, I wrote a post called, On Falling Back in Love with Mothering, over at Mothers of Daughters. In it, I addressed the fact that somewhere along the way, mothering had become more of a chore than a gift - that I had allowed it to become so, and that I didn't feel okay about that. So, I offered some tips to myself and to you, my reader friends, on making the choice to see the wonder in mothering. I then began to use the hashtag #fallingbackinlovewithmothering on my social media pages in an effort to point to and document the gift of mothering.

I want to be sure that you understand where I'm coming from - that I am accurately representing the thought behind the post and the hashtag:

1. I believe in what I wrote. I believe that it needs to be said out loud because some mama - probably a lot of mamas - are struggling with choosing joy in mothering, and it is slipping away without them even realizing it. If we cannot express our struggles out loud, regardless of how different or even how much better they are in comparison to others struggles, then how can we grow? How can we experience community? How can we tend to each others' needs? Now, to be fair, expressing struggles is different than complaining, and I am the number one offender in the latter category. We should allow others struggles to breed in us a sense of gratitude for what we have and compassion for what they do not. We should ask God regularly to show us how we can be better listeners, kinder companions, and more honest lovers of souls. We should do those things, but we cannot fall prey to the belief that if our problems aren't as bad as our neighbors, then God doesn't want to hear about them, and neither does anyone else. There is a fine line - and the only way to walk on the godly side of it is to submit ourselves to the Holy Spirit all the day every day. That being said, if anything I wrote came across as inconsiderate or hurtful, I apologize sincerely. My heart is for hurting mamas and women - all of you - please know that if I was hurtful, it was by accident.
2. I want to be clear that this issue of not enjoying mothering is about us, about our own hearts - those of us who struggle with this particular battle, and it's not okay. It's a form of ingratitude and discontent. We have to do something about it, and there's not much we can do apart from Jesus. I have spent the better part of the last few months making choices, weeding out extras, and petitioning God to change my heart. And do you know what? It's working - He is working in me. I am experiencing so much more gratitude in mothering - in spite of, because of all the chaos that goes along with it. I am delighting in my children again. God is restoring that for me, and I am amazed at His goodness.

I write it in part to clarify myself and in part to tell you that beginning June 1, I'll be writing a series in line with this topic. I'll be telling you all about how and what God is teaching me about falling back in love with mothering. I would love to hear your thoughts as I write, to know what you struggle with and how you are working to let God make you more whole in every part of your life!

Love y'all like crazy!

Our Safe Place

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? Micah 6:8 (ESV)

But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor, be compassionate and loyal in your love, And don’t take yourself too seriously— take God seriously. Micah 6:8 (MSG)

It's been a floopty week. You know the kind - when you're off kilter. You've had your feet knocked out from under you and you can't tell up from down, right from left. You feel entirely out of control, and you're not sure what's coming next. It's a bit like I've always imagined Alice felt while falling down the rabbit hole. But not all - or even mostly - hard because nothing ever is all one thing and none of another. My kids have made me laugh out loud. My man and I had a stellar night away last weekend. Spring is here and all the flowers, friends - all.the.flowers. Friendships have been rich. So much goodness. But floopty all the same.

Except.

Except that I have a center point, a thing to grab hold when things aren't quite making sense. The Bible - God's Word - is such a gift. It's the thing we can always count on to be true, relevant, and steadying. It is firm, unshakeable, and relevant. When we cannot seem to shake out right from wrong in our lives, the Bible acts as a sieve - giving us clear answers to screaming questions and gracious balms for our throbbing hearts. It is also an impressive work of literature with storylines woven together so intricately, so perfectly that it gets my writer's heart pumping hard every time I discover a new plot twist that I'd never noticed before.

So, when I have floopty weeks, I go to God's Word. Or I should. To be honest, I haven't really gone searching for truth from the Bible in the midst of all the unsureness. There's been a lot of praying - and it's sounded a lot like this over and over again: What do you want from me, Lord? What am I supposed to do?

That's pretty much what the Israelites were asking God in Micah - what are we supposed to DO?

And God, in a generously simple response says:

Do the right thing to and for the people around you. And do it with grace and compassion. And love me more than you love yourself.

I don't know what life looks like for you right now. If it looks like mine, it's wonderful and terrifying, beautiful and heartbreaking. And if you hear me say anything to you this morning, hear me say this:

Our concerns at the feet of Jesus and our actions in line with the truth of God's Word - this is the only safe place to be. We are every one of us flawed and complicated people - able to do great good and inflict deep hurt. Don't get caught in the trap of believing you are all one or the other or that God is not big enough to use you as you are where you are.

He is kind and good and able. Go to Him with our junk and thank Him for your blessings. Be kind and fight for justice. This is enough. Isn't that comforting?

He is enough.

On Falling Back in Love with the Life in Front of You

It's Tuesday. Plain ole', nothing special Tuesday.

I am eating Ruffles and Ranch dip for lunch at 2:15 in the afternoon. On my desk sits a Classical Conversations magazine, a preschool flyer, a package that needs to be returned to Amazon, our Christmas Memories book that has yet to be filled out for this year, my sketch pad, some canvases that I'm working on, several printed out recipes for this week's meals, a folder full of medical stuff, and my Hope for the Weary Mom Devotional. In my lap is my planner and a pencil. Behind me on the floor of my office/the laundry room are four basket full of clean laundry that need to be folded. Above me on the HVAC ducts of our basement that makeshift as my bulletin board, are reminders that Adelle needs to fill out her Valentine's and make her box today (When on earth did it become a thing to make a box??? We had paper bags and liked it, thankyouverymuch!), a lot of Bible verses, and lists for both the girls' Valentine's Tea Party as well as Adelle's class Valentine's Party - because I'm room mom - because I tried to wait everyone out at the beginning of the year and everyone else had the same plan. The kitchen counter is filled with groceries that must be put away. There's a meal in the crockpot that there's a pretty good chance no one will eat.

This is life, and on a lot of days it's far busier than I want it to be.

You know exactly what I mean, don't you?

There are significant decisions to be made, responsibilities to be accepted and denied, but more than all of that - there are people right here under my nose that must be seen, that I get to see.

Today alone I have been greeted and snuggled and laughed with. I have done dishes and bought groceries and showered. I have the ability to choose how my children will be schooled. I can explore dreams and career options. I have a friend who writes books full of goodness and truth and love, and mails them to me with tiny, adorable vials of Serenity, which basically has the same effect as a couple of glasses of wine, relaxationally speaking. I have Voxer and pretty pink china with which to throw Valentine's Tea Parties. I have a friend who will meet me at 5 a.m. and help me whip this three-babies-later-body into shape. I have a Mama who reads scripture over me when I am discouraged and a sister who cries with me when I see God bend low.

So, yes. It's a plain ole', nothing special Tuesday. And today I choose to fall back in love with mothering, back in love with this very life in front of me.

What about you? What is there to love instead of be overwhelmed by in your life today? How can you get wrapped up in the goodness around you instead of the vastness before you?

The best way, I've found is make a list of everything that's wearing you slap out and making you straight crazy. Write them out, one, two, three. And then make a list that corresponds to each wearisome item citing what they point to in your life, how they are representations of good, good gifts. Sometimes, maybe, they're only good for making your more like Jesus. Sometimes, they are just legitimately hard things that make you lean heavier into the Bible and telling God the truth. This, my friends, is a greater gift than anything else you've been given. Even if reading that makes you want to hit me - I promise...pain that points us to Jesus is always an extravagant gift.

I wrote a book about hard seasons. It's called The Down and Dirty Truth About Miscarriages and it's yours fo' free when you sign up for my Newsletter on the right hand side of this page. It's about far more than miscarriages - it's about dealing with grief of all kinds. I'd love to send it to you!

Don't Leave Out the Messy - still brewing

Let's live here for another post. I've been thinking a lot about it.

Today, I was reading in Joshua 2 about Rahab (I'm using IF:Equip - a great resource for studying the Word on your own and reflecting on it in an online community). The obvious take away is that God uses anyone who is willing - anyone. But in all this talk about the messiness of moving forward in our faith, I couldn't help but think about the spies that Rahab was helping. They spent the night in a brothel. I'm just going to let that sink in for a minute. Let's play this out in current day circumstances:

God has very clearly called your church to go to a certain city and win it for Him but none of you have ever even been. So, you send some of your most upright church dudes. You know that this city hates Christians and will not hesitate to kill these guys. So, also, they're brave. They go and when they return they tell you this story about how they wound up in a brothel hanging out with a prostitute. And she saved them. And she's a Believer, too.

Wait, what? How'd you end up in a brothel to begin with? Are you sure she's a Believer? I mean, she IS living a life of sin. And seriously, how'd you end up in a brothel?

What if you were the guys? We don't know how they ended up in a prostitutes house. We don't know why - but that is messy faith, right? I mean, she saved them. And then she was adopted into the Israelite people - and then she was included in the lineage of Jesus Christ. I don't know. I cannot understand it all. In this world of do's and don'ts, it's sometimes hard to know what is messy faith and what is straight sin.

In having a conversation about this with my very wise, sees things in black and white husband, we talked about going to a bar or any other place that might be typically questioned by those who shy away from messy, and he made a great point, "Of course Jesus would have gone to the (insert any place viewed as shady). But he wouldn't have gotten drunk or cussed or sinned or participated in any sort of lewd behavior at all. He wouldn't have done anything that displeased God."

And that's where it gets tricky. That's why an honest, intimate relationship with God is VITAL to quality, honest, and pure relationships with those around us. Sometimes he says, "Go spend the night at that brothel," and other times he says, "Do not go to that movie/that bar/that concert." Messy, messy, mess.

Again I say, I cannot understand it all, but I love exploring faith with Him and with you! I am learning to relish the messy because doing so presses me harder into the King of bringing Peace to the Mess. Let's all get a little dirt on our boots and see what happens!

Because Sometimes I Wish I Was a Big Deal

 

In your relationship with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death - even death on a cross! Philippians 2:5-8

Humility. 

It is the one garment that always seems to allude me just as I'm grabbing onto its hem to pull it over my head. Even as a girl, it seemed like an impossible thing to achieve because, as my thirteen-year-old mind reasoned, as soon as you decide to be humble, you become aware of your awesome humility and slip right back into pride.

Although my thirty-one-year-old mind has a better understanding of what humility actually is and what it looks like played out in every day life, I still struggle to walk in it. I like to pray for it like I used to pray for joy, "Lord, please GIVE me joy/humility. Take note that I did not ask you to TEACH me either of those things. Please just open my heart and slip them right in. Thanks so much."

The last seven years of my life were one long lesson on joy and contentment. I think now we've moved into humility. Apparently, God misunderstood my prayers. Everything I read tells me to bow low, and I am stirred to move deeper into a place that looks like my mouth being shut far more. It looks like me stepping back and letting others shine brighter. It looks like catching spit-up in my hand while I pray about how I can help other women know more about themselves and about Jesus. It looks like me not being a big deal.

Do you ever just wish you could be a big deal, though...and revel in it?

I do sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes I just want people to know that I/my husband/my kids - we are good at stuff - and not just skills good but also, like, being sweet and kind people who are seeking Jesus. I want people to know.

OR I want people to know that they are not a big deal. That they are not any more special than anyone else - not in skills or in character - and that they seriously need to get over themselves.

Obviously this is not an area of sin in my life. Obviously.

And so I wrestle it out. I begin to grasp that this humility thing - it's ALL about taking every thought captive. As in tackle them to the ground, bind them up in the grace of Jesus, and throw them into the pit. Lots of times, that looks like staying silent or standing behind. It looks like being the odd man out and letting others tell me about themselves and their lives and not needing them to ask me about mine. It looks like giving simple, honest answers when I am asked about my own life - even if those answers paint me messier than I'd like. It looks catching the spit-up, cleaning the toilets, and playing referee over someone looking at the other's vitamins the wrong way. I can't make this stuff up, people. It looks like doing it without expecting anything in return at all.

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; SO he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. John 13:3-6

Jesus knew who He was in the eyes of His Father, SO he gladly bowed low before those He led. When it comes right down to it, my desire to be a big deal points to a security that is lacking in my relationship with God. It points to my lack of rest in being a big deal to Him. It points out my lack of faith. But if I believed with my I whole heart - that belief would release me from any need to be a big deal to anyone else and therefore free me to serve others in loving humility.

I choose to embrace these lessons of humility because I want to grow in wisdom and peace. That doesn't mean I have to think it's fun - but I am doing my best to lean into it instead of fight against it.

Humility and wisdom are a package deal. And often the people who have the most wisdom have experienced the most humility. Or sometimes even the most humiliation. A wisdom like none other can arise from those hard places that bring us low. 

-Lysa Terkeurst The Best Yes

*These scriptures were paired for me in the O Come Let Us Adore Him devotional on the SheReadsTruth app. It's a great tool for daily Scripture reading.

When I Grow Up I Want to Be an Unfrantic Woman

I stood in the shower letting the hot water massage the back of my neck. "Why am I so tired? Like pregnant tired? But I am NOT pregnant [just so we are all VERY clear]."

I fell asleep last week during not one, but two, of my all time favorite movies. I simply could not summon the energy to hold my eye lids in the open position past the halfway point of either movie. It had nothing to do with desire or interest. I mean, who doesn't want to watch The Holiday start to finish if only to see Jude Law make crying look that adorable?

And it occurred to me. I am tired because in a sixth month time period I will have had a baby, started a Kindergartener in three different schools, attempted to homeschool both my girls, moved twice - once being cross country, helped start a church, and worked to reach some personal goals of my own [this one affects you, and I can't wait to tell you about it].

I am overextended. I have placed too many expectations on myself. And I can hear it flying out of my mouth in clipped tones to my family, whiny sighs to my friends, and snores during the always compelling Marley & Me. I'm starting to annoy myself. Seriously.

In the middle of it all came Lysa Tyrkeurst's The Best Yes, that on so many levels challenged me and made me think deeper about why I overextend and mostly what it means to live a fuller, less frantic life.

One of the most impactful stories I read was tucked right in the middle - a story about a woman whose name is not mentioned but I can only presume is Jenna Bush. Lysa takes barely more than a page to explain their interaction and the impact it had on her family - but it mattered to me. The Most Unfrantic Woman I've Ever Met is what the section was called, and I took note. I have thought about it over and again. I have talked about it in far too much detail with my always understanding Mama. It got in my head in a really good way.

Not only do I want my children to remember me as a fully engaged, unfrantic, and entirely fulfilled in the life I am living, that's also the impression I want to leave with other people. I want to live the beauty of stepping out of the spotlight and watching other people shine. When others are with me, I want them to know that they matter more than any list of engagements and tasks I might have waiting for me in my Erin Condren planner. I want to be so comfortable in who God has created me to be and in the season he has placed me right this second, that I don't need to be amazing. I only need to be His. I want to be brave enough to say, "No," and wise enough to say, "Yes."

I am beginning to understand that good parenting is about so much more than good discipline styles and healthy eating. It is even about more than family devotionals and the best schools. And good living is about more than serving every chance I get or running hard after every dream that pops into my head.

It's about living wholly, freely, entirely as the woman I am with the Jesus who changes me.

This doesn't change my list of obligations - we are planting a church in a place we are just getting to know, and we have three itty bitties. Every minute of every day is occupied. But don't be fooled - Josh and I work to give each other time - built in down time where we can let our souls rest. At thirty-one, we have begun to believe in the grand value of this simple act. This helps those clipped tones tremendously. Know what else helps? Running to Jesus. Over and over again every day. All day. In every moment. When the two year old digs her heels in, when I turn around and the sisters have pulled out every.single.book we own to make a trail through the entire still-unpacked house, when the baby throws up in my hair again, when intentionally getting to know my neighbors makes me nervous - to run fast and hard to Jesus and say, "I don't know how. I can't. I need you to," and then just keep moving, trusting that He's all over me like white on rice, working and changing and affecting my heart because I asked Him to - because that's who He is.

Maybe, I'll wake up one day, look around and like Jacob say, "God's been here doing His thing, and I didn't even realize it!" What I hope, though, is that like Moses I'll see it in each of those moments, take off my sandals [or snow boots], bow low, and chill the stink out.

So, here's to another Monday. Let's all live a little less frantic today!

The Honeymoon Phase and Bowing Low

I walk into what has quickly become my favorite little spot and immediately feel at home. My friend Lynley walks in to meet me for lunch, and we slip into our quiet corner of conversation and soul sharing - we are building upon something that God began over a year ago. We are making time to know each other. How nice it is to be seen and known.

My new friend heads out and leaves me there to write. To fill up pages with thoughts and characters that have been longing to be given life for many, many years. JohnnySwim, Taylor Swift, and Kasey Musgraves sail through my ear buds, and I just - write. I can do this because Josh's new schedule is flexible - it's fluid. So, he can give me Friday afternoons. He can give our kiddos Friday afternoons. We can make the life we want our family to live.

I get up for a bathroom break only to discover Ben and Dustin are still chatting in the back by the window. We are in a small coffee house/bar and grill [quirkiest, most fantastic little place there ever was] and there they are - two people that I know. Two people that are my friends. I toss them smiles and high fives and marvel at the feeling that is stirring in my heart.

Joy. Pure, untainted joy.

Maybe this sounds like your life all of the time. Maybe you run into people you know more than you'd really like. Maybe you have lunch with friends who are your people all the time. Maybe you get time to be fully you like it ain't no thang. But for me - oh for me - Fridays and all they carry with them are precious weekly gifts from the hand of a God who loves me sweetly.

I settle back in at my table and consider it - this joy. I am quick to temper it, to reel it in, because I tend to do this. I feel really excited about a place or a thing or a person until the new wears off or disappointment sets in. "You're still in the honeymoon phase," I say to myself. "Don't get too excited."

But then the Holy Spirit whispers, "The honeymoon phase matters. Embrace it." So, I consider that. I roll it around in my mind a bit. He's right, obviously. The honeymoon phase does matter. It matters a lot. What I do in it and with it matters more.

Relish it. Live entirely in it. Laugh. Love. Be giddy. Enjoy it. But most of all, bow low. Bow low and give thanks to a God who will call me to a thing and then pour out sweet gifts just to confirm that calling. Because when it all disappoints - and it will because no thing, person, or place is blissful all the time - I must not forget the bliss of the honeymoon phase. I must not forget this intoxicating, never-want-to-leave, want-to-know-everything-there-is-to-know-about-this-season-this-place, falling in love feeling. And I must not forget the one who initiated it.

So, today, I bow low in gratitude and lean hard into the Honeymoon Phase. I say loudly, "I love this place. I love this season. God's sweetness overwhelms me!"

"That's great for you," you say, "But I don't love my place. I don't love my season. And I don't see any of God's sweetness anywhere." I've been there, too, but it's important to bow low anyway. To wrestle out the goodness of God. It's there. I know. Because in all seasons, God draws us to himself. He pursues our hearts and opens our eyes to His goodness.

Jesus always gets us where we need to be.

Not enoughs got you down? Me, too.

We move through our days doing and going and playing and wiping.  Loving and supporting and praying and help-mating.  We strive and we toil and we drink a lot of coffee.  Then we lay down in our beds and wonder if we did enough.  If we are enough to the people who truly matter most in our deepest soul places.  And if you are anything like me, we usually decide that we are not.  That we must do better tomorrow, be better tomorrow.

And it doesn't matter how many times our friends dole out good mama compliments or our hunks gush over our enough-ness, we still cannot completely believe them because they do not see us in the moments when we are not enough.  We are broken and cannot possibly always be enough.  We are not Him.

But He IS enough.  

I, I'm the One comforting you...For I am God, your very own God, who stirs up the sea and whips up the waves, named God-of-the-Angel-Armies.  I teach you how to talk [insert all your not good enoughs], word by word, and personally watch over you.  Even while I'm unfurling the skies, setting the earth on solid foundations..."  Isaiah 51:12-16

And so if today or last night or every night you find/have found yourself shedding tears into the silence, mourning your not enough-ness, perhaps you should turn on a light, even if only a small one, and think about who GOD is and what HE promises to do FOR you.  He doesn't lie and He doesn't fail.  

And when you find yourself comforted, the not enoughs quieted, remember that He is the One who comforts you.  He hears your cries, holds your tears, and sends your help.  Acknowledge Him when the comfort is true and lasting and passes understanding because such comfort is always from Him.

And though those not enoughs will probably continue to peek around the corners of our souls now and again, we do not have to invite them in for tears and self-mourning.  We do have the power within us to leave them gazing longingly at a life lived hand in hand with God-of-the-Angel-Armies.  Our God who IS enough.  

We praise you, Father!

Overloaded!

Well, folks, I'm overloaded.  Again.  I have a sickness.  It's official.  But God is teaching me so much through Experiencing God!  And I want to tell you all about it.  But for now I will just have to share a journal entry.

I give you the exact words of a barely awake Mama...

You will seek me and you will find me when you seek me with all of your heart.


It's 5:30 am.  5:30 am!  And I'm awake because I had to pee - and then God asked me to get up and spend tiem with Him - brought to mind Ms. P31 and all her up before anyone else glory.  I mentally argued for the length of my potty break but in the end His logic was be3tter - is one more hour of sleep actually going to matter?  And for that matter, don't you know I'm better at sustaining you than sleep?!  So, I made the decision, felt around the blinding darkness for my glasses, and then - 


You will seek me and you will find me when you seek me with all of your heart.


Loud and clear as a bell ringing into the muddled mess of my morning brain.


[Enter my almost two year old at 5:45 am]


Lord,  


I obeyed.  I got up and fixed my coffee and Adelle woke up to join me.  I'm trusting that you will honor my obedience and true desire to have some quiet alone time with you rather than the having of ACTUAL alone time.  The deepest desire of my heart is to obey you, Lord.  And as a wife and a mama I want to honor you in the everyday.  I never thought staying at home would feel so much like not contributing.  Please help me to sense the value of my work.  And help me find ways to take care of our home thriftily, Lord, fill me with your wisdom as I discipline and parent...wisdom beyond my own - like Solomon - so that there is no question of your work through me.  Fill me with affectionate respect for Josh - like Sarah - so that others will see you through our marriage.


Father, I cannot understand your ways.  I truly don't know where you are leading me or our family, but I do know that I trust you and where you lead, I will follow!  You are faithful.  And kind.  And true.  Oh how I need you!  You are the calmer of the universe, my world, and my soul!  Please come in and order my thoughts so that I can think clearly enough to hear our next task and then do it.


This is my true life prayer.  I cannot begin to tell you the frustration that mounted with every slap of tiny feet on the hard floor coming toward me.  It took a lot for me not to turn her around and throw her in bed with her Daddy.

And now I have to run out the door.  Again.  I miss y'all!  I'll be back soon.  Yes, I will.

Love y'all like crazy!

Truth in a Movie

The Hunk and I watched Taken this weekend.  It was intense.  And good.  And I'm glad I finally talked myself into watching it.  I get to worrying about things I cannot control, sometimes, and I have to be careful that what I watch doesn't put new worrying ideas in my head.  Thus the delay in watching Taken.  There's not much that is more worrisome than your child being taken.

Fortunately, because I have a two year old, not a seventeen year old gallavanting through Europe, I was detached enough from the story that it didn't give me nightmares.

And on the upside it has got me thinking a lot about our God.  I love it when He does that...uses the every day to teach me about Himself.

First, I spent a semester in Europe when I was twenty.  With Fun Friend Katy.  And we weren't stupid but we were naive.  The second night we were there, we got in the car with a fellow that we had not known for more than 30 minutes.  Okay, that was stupid.  He told us we were going to meet his girlfriend at a bar.  And we believed him, hopped in his tiny red car and thought nothing of it.  We did meet his girlfriend at a bar but I never thought about how differently that could have gone down until I watched the movie.  Katy and I spent the night on the streets of Barcelona.  Entirely alone.  Because of our silly American travel confusions.  People...it would have been NOTHING for someone to snatch us up.  NOTHING.  Once we took the wrong bus and ended up in a shady part of the town we were living in very late at night.  And we had to wait a long time before the next bus showed up.  I'll stop there but there are more.  I assure you.

So after I watched that movie and realized how many times I probably brushed shoulders with evil, I couldn't help but be amazed at God's protection.  My Mama says she prayed me there and back...I've never believed her more than I do now.  I walked around with a little prayer power bubble around me while Lord only knows what did all it could to take me down.

I'm just sayin'...God can do whatever He wants.

Second, in the movie at the end when her Daddy busts in and saves her.  And she collapses into His arms.  Wow.  I could actually smell my own Daddy's coat in that moment.  I'm not sure why I think of his coat, but I do know that smell equals absolute security for me.  If you had/have a good relationship with your Daddy, you know what I'm saying.  There is no where safer than in your Daddy's arms.

And truly there IS no place safer than the arms of our Father!

His center holds.  He is the ultimate picture of stability!  So when you are feeling attacked, afraid, or just plain weak...collapse into His arms and bury your head in his coat.  There is more comfort there than you can possibly need!

Keep on keepin' it down and dirty.  Love y'all like crazy!


What about you?  Have you found truth in an unexpected place recently?  Link up and tell us about it!

More Good Days

Another weekend of fullness.  There is nothing sweeter.

Marry Poppins, pizza, chocolate chip cookies, and tickle fights.

A family bike ride to the blessed Panera, projects completed, and Indian food with friends.

Breakfast and community with sweet gals, [more] projects completed, and family shopping time.

The coming together or our faith family for worship in a building and then worship in Creation as more of our Father's children declare their life giving to Him.

And it was all wrapped up in an increased awareness of - a deeper belief in - His all-knowing, all-powerful, all-part-of-the-plan ways.  If you want to tumble head long into such an awareness, just take a stop in either Isaiah or Revelation.  Or both!

We're content to linger in the path sign-posted with your decisions.  Who you are and what you've done are all we'll ever want.


...because everything we've done, you've done for us.


Holy, holy, holy is God our Most, Sovereign-Strong, the Was, the Is, the Coming.


Worthy, O Master!  Yes, our God!  Take the glory! the honor! the power!  You created it all; it was created because you wanted it.


...look, the Lion of Judah has conquered...


The slain Lamb is worthy!  Take the power, the wealth, the wisdom, the strength!  Take the honor, the glory, the blessing!  Then I heard every creature in Heaven and earth, in underworld and sea, join in, all voices in all places, singing:


To the One on the Throne!  To the Lamb!  The blessing, the honor, the glory, the strength, for age after age after age.


Amen.

Grateful Deep Down

Today every piece of scripture I read pointed me straight toward heaven.  To sin no more.  To know God unclouded - clearly and perfectly.

And I cannot help but feel grateful deep down in the corners where grateful sometimes doesn't stretch.

I don't see things rightly yet.  God and His ways are fuzzy, which forces me to see Him through faith eyes.  To believe that He is who He says He is.  That He will do what He says He will do.  That He loves like He says He loves.  1 Corinthians 13:12

I want to cling to God's prodding and correcting.  I want to embrace the being made right...into my true self...my through Jesus self.  I want to keep God's sweet Word with passionate patience.  Sometimes I just forget to look at Jesus.  To hear Him knocking.  To stand up, walk to the door, and open it wide.  Because when I do, He comes in and dwells with me - a conquerer.  It seems that all it takes to be a conquerer is to say Yes to Jesus. Revelation 3

And when the testing of my faith eyes has wearied me, I must only remember that there will come a day when the wearied will be renewed.  And cling to who my God is with every limb of my soul.  And think about how good He is.  That always rights my focus...because...ooohhh...He is good.  Isaiah 25:6-10

Keep on keepin' it down and dirty.  Love y'all like crazy!




*Some thoughts were taken from Sarah Young's Jesus Calling.

Mayhave Monday: On a Wednesday

I may or may not have closed my eyes [briefly and periodically] and raised my hand [halfway and on the side] last night while running to the tunes of Avalon's Can't Live a Day Without You.  True life.  It's The Hunk's playlist that I actually teased him about...his taste in music is slightly less exciting than mine [in my opinion]...to which he said that he likes to worship while he runs.  This wasn't a polish-your-halo comment.  It was just honest.  And then what happened?  I found myself worshiping away to his less exciting music and TO-tally pumped by it.  I was running my face off and so grateful to remember how strongly I believe the lyrics of that song.

God is reminding every day to bring my worries and troubles to Him.  And that He is in control.


Don't fret or worry.  Instead of worrying, pray.  Let the petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.  Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will settle you down.  It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.  Philippians 4:6-7 [MSG]

So when I worry about whether or not I'm a good enough mama or if our house will ever feel like home to me or when I'll get to see my family again or how I'll ever get it all done or if our family will ever be more than the three of us.  The best and only thing to do is tell God about it.  And [this is equally if not more important] praise Him for who He is.  I have to be intentional about it because lots of times I forget to speak directly to God as soon as worry enters my heart.  I think about Him and how I wish He would do this or that but I often forget to speak directly TO Him.  But in speaking directly TO Him I am acknowledging that He is the only one who can do a darn thing about my worries.  He's the only one who can bring peace.

It's also most helpful to sing your face off to Him in fits of unashamed praise.  This establishes right order in our lives...pulls our attention away from the sea of worries we find ourselves drowning in.  It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry in your life!


Keep on keepin' it down and dirty.  Love y'all like crazy!

Link up and give some truth from your own life!

I want, I want, I want

Do not love the world or the things in the world.  If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.  For all that is in the world - the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions - is not from the Father but from the world.  And the world is passing away with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.  1 John 2:15-17 [ESV]

Don't love the world's ways.  Don't love the world's goods.  Love of the world squeezes out love for the Father. Practically everything that goes on in the world - wanting your own way, wanting everything for yourself, wanting to appear important - has nothing to do with the Father.  It juts isolates you from him.  The world and all its wanting, wanting, wanting is on the way out - but whoever does what God wants is set for eternity.  1 John 2:15-17 [MSG]

Wanting your own way has nothing to do with the Father...it just isolates you from Him.

Yikes.

I do want my own way a lot.  Just this morning AFTER I read these verses I was doing my daily social network cruising and read a blog post about a friend's visit with her college friend.  And immediately I got a lump in my throat because I miss MY college friends like woah.  And I WANT to live closer to them. And I WANT to be able to do life with them.

You know what I don't want, though?  To be isolated from the Father.  And it seems to me that all my wanting, wanting, wanting is keeping me from walking in closer communion with Him.

I don't think there's anything wrong with aching for things as long as we ache for Jesus more.  As long as we bring those aches to Jesus and trust Him implicitly with the outcome.

The end.

Love y'all!  And because I do here's a little extra nugget for ya...for when you feel behind by Emily at Chatting at the Sky.  Read it if you feel like you're always trying to catch up.  Wisdom beautifully stated.

What to do when circumstances collide and make you feel all frustrated and floopty...

Because I am a stay at home mom/homemaker/housewife - whatever you'd like to call it - I live AND work in our home, which means that the majority of my time is spent within the confines of these walls.  Ere go [totally weird that I chose that phrase, I know] making it pretty and homey and happy is a high priority for me.

Because I am a stay at home mom/homemaker/housewife, we are a single income family.  Add the fact that we choose to live debt free and within the confines of a budget, home decorating has to be a slow process.  Very, very slow.  When I save up enough money for that rug or those curtains or the paint or that knock your socks of do it yourself mason jar chandelier that'll comin' 'round the bend eventually, then I can make it happen...make the vision come to life.  

Because I'm terribly impatient - painfully, actually - and I want things to be fixed and settled as soon as the vision is envisioned, a large portion of my stress is birthed from the union of the first to points.  Funnily enough, God is using all of this to teach me about living in the moment and using what He's already given me.  

For example, today when all I really wanted to do was go spend $100 on paint so I could complete Miss M's big girl room and started feelin' all frustrated and floopty about it because $100 ain't in the budget for home decorating and all my savings are going toward my trip to NEW YORK next month [waaahoooooo!!!], I stopped and said, "Okay, Lord...what can I do right now to make this house feel more like our home?"

"Clean the baseboards in the kitchen because they are ga-ross.  Or organize the guest bedroom closet so your visitors don't have to throw their luggage on top of all your junk.  Or organize Miss M's closet so that's one less thing you have to worry about when you do get to paint and get the furniture in there.  Or finish the laundry that's been sitting in the garage for a week.  Or clean the floors that have been filthy for - well we won't talk about how long."  

That's what He said to me.  And you know what?  I did 'em.  Not because it was fun or anyone else will really notice and think, "Wow, her house is beautiful!"  But cleanliness matters.  And so does working hard.  And taking care of things that no one really sees but are lurking just under the surface undone.  And I feel like a million bucks now that it's all done.  And I'm not nervous about Adelle playing on the kitchen floors because she might get nasty food goop on our hands from the baseboards.  And I did things...I took active steps toward making our house more of our home and less of just somewhere to sleep.

[Look at those baseboards shinin' like the top of the Chrysler building!]

Ask God for advice.  He'll give it to you straight up.  He ain't scurred.

Love y'all! 

Just Enough For This Moment

I'm struggling.

Still.

I know, I know - it's normal.  Apparently, after a miscarriage, it can take a long time for hormones to return to their usual levels where I am only semi-crazy instead of full on certifiable.

Yesterday I was all out of whack.  Like I couldn't make sense of anything and I couldn't let myself be okay with the not making sense.  Like I wanted to force my life into my mold and shove, pout at, or be real mean to anyone [or any Deity] who got in my way.

Please tell me that when your hormones are misbehaving, your thoughts and emotions feel like they are coming unraveled and tumbling out of control.  Please, please tell me that.  If it's not true I'm prolly officially bound for the loony bin.

"Please help me.  I want to have faith.  I want to depend on you.  Please help me."  That [or some variation of that] is all I could pray.  And by the end of yesterday I just wanted to go to sleep so I didn't have to be awake anymore.

Sad, but true.

Today, though, God's Word was waiting patiently for me to turn to it for guidance and sanity.

Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.  1 Peter 2:2-3

The Message says to "drink deep of God's pure kindness [so] you'll grow up mature and whole in God."  And it just reminded me that I know God's kindness.  I have been drinking it deep for a long time.  I just have to remember that I know it.  Fight the amnesia, you know?

And then as I read Sarah Young's Jesus Calling, I was reminded to live life in this very moment.  And in those moments when I'm wrought with hormonal crazies, I just have to choose to believe that He will make it better.  That He will work all of this for good.  That He does hear my prayers and He does answer them in His time.  That He is good and kind and loving and wise.  That He Is.  I just have to remember that He is near even when He seems far.  I just have to choose to believe enough for this moment.  

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  2 Corinthians 12:9

And I have to embrace my weakness - my absolute inability to do much of anything right this second - and wear it like a badge of honor.  Because His power is made perfect in my weakness.  

Peace in the Floopties

Louisiana was spectacular.  The love rekindling - the crawfish healing - the steady heartbeat of the people I love most - it was plush and comfortable and restful.  Kinda like a Pottery Barn bed looks:

And even though I prayed - begged and begged God and myself - that it wouldn't be heartbreaking to leave.  That I would be excited to come back to this life that IS good.  The pain was still terribly present.  Palpable, really.  Not in the sea of sadness that usually happens the day that I leave - like a good drenching of the blues that you shake off in a day or two.  This time the blues have fallen in a steady trickle - pooling up until they can no longer be contained, at which point I generally empty them onto The Hunk, who has been terribly gracious and understanding through it all.  

The leaving and the loss have proved to be a fierce pair - the likes of whom I was not prepared to stand against.  I have lost all sense of control in my life and the realization of it has thrown me into the crazies.  What's funny is that I thought I'd gotten a little better with the whole control thing.  Thought I'd reconciled myself with the fact that I am not in control of this life.  The God of all creation is and that is enough.  Apparently not for me.  So I've been all floopty [do you understand what I mean when I say that?]  And resistant to the steady hand reaching of Jesus.  Until I had to go to church on Easter.  It's a rule in our house, I guess.  Anyway, I finally looked up at Jesus.  Just looked at Him.  Thought about Him.  I fought the tears through the entire service...and at a all the wrong parts...which tells me that it was more about letting Jesus in than an emotional experience.  And the peace was fantastic!  

I realize that this is directly conflicting with my last post about having the peace and all.  I'm not really sure how to put it in words...a peace was always there because I know that God always works things out.  That He is faithful.  I believe it because He has never failed me.  There's peace in that.  It's different when you FEEL peace.  I felt peace when I finally looked at my Jesus.

Hebrews 12:3 

Consider Jesus so you don't grow weary. [Emily paraphrase]

What helps when you're feelin' floopty?

Roller Coaster of Epic Proportions

The past month has been a roller coaster of epic proportions.  That's why I've been MIA.

First I was entirely too nauseated to write.  I was pregnant.  Very early but very pukey-fied.

And then I was entirely too sad to write.  And it all felt like too much to look at in formed letters on a screen.

At around seven weeks I miscarried.  Well that seems like the wrong term.  At around seven weeks that sweet baby's heart stopped beating.  They told me at the ultrasound...bless that young technician's heart.  I think she might have wanted to throw up.

The P.A. came in and broke the news I had already seen for myself.  The news God had already sweetly prepared me for in my heart.  During the wait for the P.A. - the time where I knew what was happening but had not officially been informed - I frantically kept praying that God would help me respond in a way that honored Him.  Not trying to be stoic and keep my emotions in check but not conveying any sort of hopelessness either.

Because all along there was peace.

And all I could keep repeating to the P.A. between ugly cry sobs was, "It's hard.  But God is faithful.  It'll be okay."  Over and over again I repeated it.  I needed to keep saying it.

She said things about a procedure and I could wait to see if my body took care of it and time won't change anything.

Later on I realized that she thought I thought God's faithfulness equaled Him restoring a heartbeat.  That if I waited He would prove His faithfulness and fix all of this.

What she didn't understand that He didn't need to prove His faithfulness.  I was simply stating what I knew to be truth.  Good.  Bad.  Ugly.  God is faithful.

He allowed this.  And He is good.

And that's where the peace came from.

After the first day of numbness there were several days of deep hurt.  Of thinking about what might've been.  Of boy or girl?  Of silly or serious?  Of blue eyes or green?  When you've never met your baby, all you have is what might've been.  And it turns out that's really hard to lose, too.

I found out on a Thursday.  The procedure wasn't until Tuesday.  The waiting made the whole thing seem more tragic.  Certainly more psychologically trying.

But God was faithful.  Not in ways that are obvious to other people.  But in ways that are glaringly obvious to me.

When you want to be angry at your Hunk for not being at the appointment - even though he'd already seen the baby at the previous appointment and had no clue anything was wrong - but somehow God allows you to see that this is a defining moment in your marriage.  To drive a wedge or drive you closer together.  And you manage to pray that He would help you find a way for the driving closer thing to win.  And just in the nick of time, it does.

That's obviously God's faithfulness.

Or when all you want to do is lay in bed and sleep until it's all over but somehow you still manage to spend time with the sweet child you DO have every day.

That's obviously God's faithfulness.

Or when people you didn't know you could rely on pop up all over the place and take care of you and your and grieve with you - fully and completely.  And cover you in prayers.

That's obviously God's faithfulness.

Or when you are lying in a hospital bed after signing forms about funerals and exploring the remains and your emotions are all scary and screamy and the nurse comes and sticks you TWICE, and fails TWICE, while inserting your I.V. and all you can do is pray, "Please don't let me lose it right here.  Please, Lord, please."  And you close your eyes and you're magically transported to the beach.  Like, you can smell the air and hear the waves and the sea gulls and your baby girl's laugh as she runs back and forth into the surf.  And The Hunk reaches over and grabs your hand in real life but you only see it happening at the beach.  And you don't lose it.  And the next nurse that sticks you knows what she's doing and you don't feel a darn thing.

That's obviously God's faithfulness.

Or when you wake up from the procedure TO-tally expecting a full on meltdown but all you experience is peace.  And gratefulness for this life.  And this family that makes your life so full.

That's obviously God's faithfulness.

Or when your Hunk spontaneously scheduled a cruise a few months ago that will whisk the two of you away on the waves of Caribbean bliss for five whole days...not even a week after said procedure.  And that will be followed by the healing balm that is Louisiana air, culture, life, and family.  And crawfish.

That's obviously God's faithfulness.

There's more but I'll stop there.  I think you get the picture.  Life is broken but God is good.

And it's gonna be a few more weeks before you hear from me again what with all the Caribbean love rekindling and Louisiana crawfish healing I'll be partaking in.  I'm going to be all wrapped up in living and not quite so concerned about recording it.

I'll be back, though, and we'll continue on this journey of learning more about ourselves and more about our God.

Love y'all like crazy!
Em

Mayhave Monday...minus the Mayhave

So, this is technically a Mayhave post, but it doesn't start with MAY or MAY NOT have because, well, it just didn't make sense today. 

See?  No rules.  Just truth.

Does it ever occur to you in the middle of your cranky pants, self-wallowing that God has been faithfully running after you all along?  I mean, you knew it.  You know that He is the great Pursuer of our souls but do you sometimes have to stop thinking about yourself long enough to realize that it's true?  That He's been slowly answering prayers and fulfilling needs and just plain filling you right up all while you were fussing and pouting and mopin' around in your poor pitiful me t-shirt?

I had one of those weeks last week.  Where I stopped whining long enough to realize that I'm full up with goodness. 

From my eyeballs to my toes.

'Til I can hardly breathe.

Well, that's really nice in theory, Em, but how do you get back to the place where you see the goodness?  Where you believe the Truth? 

You ask Him to help you.  That's it.  You just ask for it. 

"You may ask me for anything in my name in I will do it."  John 14:14

I assure you that it is within the realm of God's desire for your life to fix your eyes upon Him.  So, if you're so tired of swimming in your own self-pity that you might just give up and sink to the bottom - but you have no idea how to get outta the pool.  Hello!  Ask for that floatie!  Just ask for it, sister sues!

Love ya'll like crazy!