I didn’t plan to miss out on getting our Christmas tree this year.  Our annual tradition includes loading up the entire family and driving to a tree farm.  Then we scour the grounds until we find our favorite,  taking pictures that will be used on future Christmas cards.  The kids take turns wielding the borrowed, rusty orange saw to the trunk of the tree and then we drag it across the lot back to our vehicle.

Things don’t look the way they usually do this time of year.

Normally we would haul the tree home and my husband would get it up right away.  Then I would string soft white lights throughout and the kids would join me as we sift through boxes filled with old memories and decorations alike.  Vince Guaraldi, Michael Buble and Diana Krall would greet us like old friends.

Lastly, we would gather around the lights of the tree, snacks and bubbly in hand, as we recalled past Christmas memories, laughing at some and experiencing a twinge of loss at others.

None of that happened this year.  Instead, I am on the couch with a back injury that is keeping me from doing anything.  My husband and daughter found a tree that now stands in the corner, sad and dark.  The decoration boxes filling an already messy living room, taunting me do something about it.

Things don’t look the way I had hoped they would.

Life is hard sometimes.  Many people are dealing with far greater disappointments than just missing out on a family Christmas tradition.  I have friends and family who are bracing themselves for this holiday season, white knuckling their way through the festivities while in the onset stage of grieving a spouse.

Life is hard and things don’t look the way we thought they would.  This is true.  And yet at the same time there is another truth, God is always with us.

Emmanuel.

It’s not just a name we use at Christmas time to reference God.  He is our salvation, our comfort and our strength. His plan from the very beginning was to be in relationship with us.  When mankind sinned He sent His son in the form of a baby to be with us.  And when Jesus left this earth and ascended into heaven, he sent Holy Spirit to be with us. He has always wanted to be with us.

Emmanuel, God with us.

God with us in our grief.

God with us in our confusion.

God with us in our pain.

God with us in our difficult circumstance.

God with us in our brokenness.

What a gift His presence is to us.  To know that in every situation, at every stage of life, He is with us.  He cares deeply about us and wants to spend time with us daily.

“The Lord is close to the broken-hearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” (NLT) Psalm 34:18

The Contemporary English Version says it like this “The Lord is there to rescue all who are discouraged and have given up hope.”

Is this you today?  Are you feeling discouraged?  Do you feel as if you’ve given up hope? I encourage you to focus on the first part of that verse:  the Lord is here to rescue… He is close to the broken-hearted.  It’s in His nature and part of His character to rescue, to encourage and to restore hope.  Invite Him into the grief, the loneliness and the messiness of your life.  He wants to be with us in all of it.  He is our Emmanuel and His presence in our lives is the greatest gift of all.

It was a little frantic then, getting Hannah into the bathroom to wash the wound and elevate it, making sure we could save the dessert and then driving to the store to get some butterfly band aids.

I felt panicky trying to find the bandages quickly and get back to my daughter.  I could feel my heart begin to become anxious.  If worse came to worse, the reality was that she would need stitches.  Really not the end of the world.  But it’s hard to get your mind to think clearly when your heart is aching.

There is something about seeing our kids in pain, whether it’s physical or emotional, that just kind of tears at our hearts and can sometimes cloud our judgement.

When I got back to the house she was doing fine.  My husband had determined that no stitches were necessary. Although it should be noted that there has yet to be a time when he has ever felt that stitches were necessary.

Later that afternoon, I was outside laying on a blanket in our backyard, soaking up the beautiful sunshine.  I was just watching the clouds roll by overhead, reflecting on the day, when I had a quiet thought that I have learned to recognize as from the Holy Spirit.

The love that we have for our kids is so deep.  My life and my prayers are directed toward my three children.  My heart is that they would know the depth of the love that God has for them.  I love them so much, and yet God’s love for them is even deeper.

And as I lay there staring up at the sky, I was reminded of the great love that God has for me.  That He has for every single one of us.  Not just for those that love Him back, but for all humanity.  It’s overwhelming really.  And these simple words came to mind, “You can trust me.”

Often times, when my kids are experiencing pain or someone I love is going through something hard, my initial response is to want to make things better. I’m a fixer.  But I realize that in my haste to try to take care of things on my own, often times my actions give away my heart.  I don’t always trust him.

Nobody has ever loved me the way God does.  He willingly sent His son to die for me. Jesus took on the weight of sin and death for me.  The slight ache in my heart for my daughter’s well being is but a shadow of the ache he felt for all humanity as he hung on the cross. His love was so great a sacrifice, that if ever I am tempted to doubt, all I need to do is remember the depth of the love that drove him to the cross. He proved his trustworthiness by giving his life for us.  I can trust him.  You can too.

I admit that last year things took a turn for the worse when, after promising our daughter the year before that she could have the final say, my husband went rogue and trumped her tree choice with his veto power.  It took her to the ground in tears and ruined the whole experience for all of us.

Sometimes, in our quest for perfection, we trample down all the joy in the process.

We didn’t go into the tree selection process thinking it would end with Hannah on the ground in tears.  We just wanted the most perfect Christmas tree we could fine.  But somehow, along the way, we experienced tunnel vision and forgot to enjoy the process.

The holidays are full of moments where we try to create perfection.  We want to take the perfect family photo, have a perfectly decorated house and Christmas tree, and we want to make perfect little Christmas cookies with our perfect little kids.  It’s a recipe for disaster.

When we focus more on the “what” (perfect tree) than we do the “who” (our daughter) we miss out.  We need to remind ourselves to look up from what we’re doing and just enjoy the sweet little moments along the way.  The smiles and the giggles are worth way more than a perfectly frosted cookie.

“Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time.  He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end”. (NLT)

When I find myself in this vortex of perfectionism, and I feel it pulling me in, I have to remind myself that there is beauty in the process. There is beauty in the perfectly imperfect mess of it all. Often times, it’s in the wreckage of our expectations that we find some remarkable moments.

I pray this holiday season would be one where we see the beauty in all that life offers.  From the imperfect family photo to the delicious yet haphazardly decorated cookie, there is beauty to behold in all of it.  I pray that we would find joy in the process, however that may look for us.  I pray that we would be free from the stress and worry that can threaten to drag us under during this busy season and that our homes would resound with a gentle peace.  May our quest for perfection be replaced with a sense of gratitude for what we already have.

A prayer:  Father, You make all things beautiful in Your time.  We give You all of our imperfect messes and trust You with them today.  We release our grasp on trying to make things perfect and open our hands, surrendering it all to You.  Remind us of what is truly important this holiday season and give us a fresh perspective to see all the beauty that today holds.  Thank you Father that You alone are able to give us beauty from the ashes we offer you.  

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Perfection is an idea that once it gets inside of our heads, it is incredibly difficult to get rid of.  How many times have you played out in your mind a perfect scenario?  Whether it’s something as simple as an afternoon where your children actually get along with one another or whether you’re dreaming of the perfect family get together this holiday season.  You know, the one where nobody says anything stupid, where nobody’s feelings get hurt and nobody drinks themselves to the point of oblivion.

We often define peace as an absence of violence, war or strife.  While that is certainly one definition, it may cause acute disappointment when we realize that we will never live in that kind of world.  Recently we witnessed missiles launched at Syria after a chemical attack.  We continue to see gunman all over our country take the lives of innocent people because they are blinded by hate.  Humanity stooped so low that a gunman murdered his grandfather and posted the video to Facebook.  So where does that leave us?  Peace seems to be something far beyond our reach.

But what if peace is less about the absence of something and more about the presence of something.  Or better yet, someone.

Scripture tells us that God is our source of peace.  He is our Yahweh Shalom. (Judges 6:24) As we continue to be in right relationship with God, one of the benefits that we receive is peace.  Isaiah 26:3 says, “You will keep in perfect and constant peace the one whose mind is steadfast (that is committed and focused on You)  because he trusts and takes refuge in you.” (AMP)  According to this scripture, the threat of war or evil has no impact on our peace.  In fact, no outside circumstances have any bearing on the peace that is found in Christ.  As we stay committed and focused on Him, He provides us with His peace that passes all understanding. Paul says in 2 Thessalonians,  “Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way.”

This is our answer! This is how we can live in a broken and sinful world but also experience peace in the midst of it all.  We keep our mind on God, we place our trust in Him and we take refuge in Him.  The Lord of peace will give us peace at all times and in every way. What an amazing promise.

If we believe this, then peace is available to us in any circumstance.  Whether we are watching the news or reading another article online of the latest violent attack, we can have peace.  At all times and in every way.  Whether we are are stressing out because we’re late getting our kid to their holiday concert, or embarrassed that they are showing up in black dress shoes two sizes too big for them, we can have peace.  At all times and in every way.  Whether the demands of family and holiday parties threaten to push us to our breaking point or we find ourselves wondering if this will be our last Christmas to celebrate with a loved one, we can have peace.  At all times and in every way.

May we remember that our peace isn’t dependent upon our circumstances, but dependent upon our decision to keep our minds steadfast on God.   We can choose peace by choosing to place our focus on Him.

A prayer:  Thank you, God, for the peace that is available to us through You.  You are the Lord of peace and You give us peace at all times and in every way.  We acknowledge that You alone are our source of peace and we ask today that, as we keep our minds steadfast on You, that you would cover us with Your peace that passes all understand. 

Most people would probably say “no,” but there have been a few moments in my life when I’ve been given something so special that it made me slightly uncomfortable.  Whether it’s something tangible or the gift of a compliment, sometimes it’s hard to be the recipient, especially if you feel undeserving.

Honestly, I find accepting help difficult most of the time.  And I’ve talked with countless women who agree that it’s just really hard to accept help from others.

I think it’s because we often correlate “help” with a degree of failure on our part.  Thoughts like, “I should be able to do this on my own.”  Or, “I hate that I can’t handle this myself!” make us reluctant to accept the help that others are willing to give.

And yet Matthew 10:40-42 says this, ““We are intimately linked in this harvest work. Anyone who accepts what you do, accepts me, the One who sent you. Anyone who accepts what I do accepts my Father, who sent me. Accepting a messenger of God is as good as being God’s messenger. Accepting someone’s help is as good as giving someone help. This is a large work I’ve called you into, but don’t be overwhelmed by it. It’s best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won’t lose out on a thing.”

In a world where admitting you could use help is frowned upon, we see that God’s kingdom works very differently.  Isn’t His idea of how things should work refreshing? Here we discover that we are all intimately linked together.  We discover that accepting is as important and valued as giving. And we discover that the only way to accomplish all that He’s called us to is by working together, learning the art and the value of both.

There is no failure tied to your acceptance of help.  Rather, there is importance and value threaded into it. Jesus modeled this for us while He was here on Earth.  We see many instances in Scripture of Jesus giving.  He gave of his time, energy and resources.  And yet, we also see him receiving. Jesus received the woman in Bethany who broke her expensive jar of perfume and poured it on His head.  He received the hospitality that Martha offered him and the rapt attention that Mary gave.  He even received Simon’s help as he carried his cross to be crucified.

If our desire is to be a disciple of Christ, then we need a shift in our thinking.  We need God to transform our minds and our hearts.  We need Him to reveal some of the misconceptions that we have regarding receiving help from others.  We need a reminder that we are all in this together and that as we learn the holy rhythm of giving and receiving, we become more like him.

A prayer: Father, make us more like You this holiday season.  Show us the benefit of learning to accept and receive not only from others but also from You.  May we sense the value in linking arms with those around us to get the job done.  It is a large work that you’ve called us to and we each have our own part to play.  Your promise to us is that as we learn this skill, we won’t miss out on a thing.  Thank you, Father, for modeling this concept for us and continue to work it out in our lives in the days ahead.

I am incredibly blessed to still have both my parents living and in really great health.  Now my children get to create sweet memories of lazy days spent on my parent’s dock, catching fish and sipping sun tea in their bare feet in the same place that formed me into the woman I am today.  It honestly makes me ache to think about there ever being a time when I won’t have my father here to invest in my life or to teach my children how to properly clean a fish.  But I know that life is  precious, and his physical presence in my life is not a guarantee.

I’m so thankful that I can depend on the eternal and everlasting presence, love and wisdom of my heavenly Father.  Isaiah 40:28 “Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.”(NIV)

Even the most amazing fathers will grow tired from time to time.  Just ask my kids.  They will be the first to tell you what a great dad they have but they will also let you know that Sunday afternoons equal dad’s nap time.   After a long weekend of running three church services, their pastor daddy is tired.  He grows weary.

How comforting it is to know that we can rest our cares, our anxious thoughts, our tired hearts, in God’s loving arms.  We can rest in the knowledge that, regardless of how our earthly father feels about us, we are seen, known and loved by the Creator of the universe.  Some of us have had amazing earthly fathers like mine, while others have suffered terribly at the hands of those who were supposed to love and protect us.  But regardless of how our earthly fathers have been, we are infinitely loved by our heavenly Father.  He sees us as we are, loves us regardless and desires to have a relationship with us.  And when we accept his love for us, we are held together by a love that is beyond our understanding. A love that does not grow tired or weary.  An everlasting love that comes from an everlasting father.

A prayer:  Thank you, Father, that You are a perfect example of everlasting love.  We come to You today in need of that love.  Take us in Your arms and speak words of comfort and hope over us today.  We grow tired and weary, but You never do.  Renew our strength today as we wait on You.  

As a mom of three I’ve tried my hand a time or two at forcing things to happen.  Forced feedings when the kids were younger, as if that one last bite of green beans I shoved into their clenched mouths would somehow push them over the edge into the category of perfect health. Forced quiet time, which usually just resulted in me going into their rooms and reminding them over and over again to be quiet until they would fall dead asleep 5 minutes before we needed to be somewhere.  These days, I find myself forcing my middle child to shower, as though the shower itself is some sort of medieval torture chamber designed to inflict pain upon him.  I do not understand the physical aversion he has for clean water.

I’ve tried forcing my kids to quit fighting, to not pick their nose in public, to brush their teeth, to do their chores, to practice their instruments, the list goes on and on.  I’ve even tried to force fun within our family.  We will do this activity and it will be fun, understood?”

But, as many times as I’ve tried to use force to cause a change in my children’s actions, it’s rarely been successful long term.  Sometimes it works temporarily, but rarely does it stick.

I love the words in Matthew chapter 11 where Jesus asks the question “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?” (MSG)  Every time I read this I find myself answering with a resounding “Yes!”  I think every mom who reads those first two questions feels the same way.  Yes, we’re so very tired, we’re worn out!  But I love how Jesus sneaks that last question in there.  “Are you burned out on religion?”  Why is He following with this question? Because He knows that forcing things, just going through the motions without our hearts being truly connected to it, will never provide the outcome we’re looking for.  Just being religious will never give us the true rest and freedom our souls crave.  Jesus tells us in verse 28-30 “Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.  I’ll show you how to take a real rest.”  Have you ever heard anything more alluring in your entire life?

The verse goes on to say, “Walk with me and work with me–watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.  I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.  Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”  Just reading these words fills my heart with hope.

The freedom that Jesus offers us is found in the unforced rhythms of His grace.  It is found in His presence when we keep company with him.  It’s also something we have to learn; it’s not something that comes naturally.  Honestly, following rules and checking off boxes comes much more easily.  We like to say to ourselves, “There, all done.” while God is saying to us, “Here, just come.”

A prayer:  Father, help us to quit forcing things and to start living freely and lightly in Your unforced rhythms of grace. May we not look to religion to give us rest, but may we recover our lives as we live in relationship with you.  Thank you for Your promise that as we walk with You and work with You, You will show us how that looks.  Our hearts crave the real rest that only comes from You.

“You are My witnesses,” declares the Lord, “And My servant whom I have chosen, that you may know and believe Me and understand that I am He. Before me there was no God formed, and there will be none after Me.”  Isaiah 43:10 (AMP)

He alone is our God and we are his witnesses.  

We can attest to God’s sovereignty and His faithfulness by our testimony, our personal story of what God has saved us from and how He has changed us.  If we have accepted Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior, we have an incredible story to tell.  It is one of love and forgiveness, full of grace and mercy, new life and hope.

Stories can be an incredibly powerful tool.  When it comes to new products, one of the most compelling reasons to buy something is a shared story or experience from someone you know in real life.   I can know all about a product but usually won’t be persuaded to actually buy it until someone close to me shares a positive experience with it.  And then, I’m all in.  Often, their excitement will spread and I become a walking billboard for the product, a witness to its greatness.

The shepherds were the first real witnesses to Jesus.  In a sense, they became walking billboards for the Savior of the world.  Their experience couldn’t be kept to themselves because it was the most joyful news they had ever heard, and it was for everyone. After seeing for themselves, they told everyone they could. As word of mouth grew, people everywhere heard the good news.

Luke 2:15-18 says, “When this great army of angels had returned again to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, “Come on! Let’s go to Bethlehem! Let’s see this wonderful thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”  “They ran to the village and found their way to Mary and Joseph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger.  The shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child.  All who heard the shepherd’s story expressed astonishment.” (TLB)

The shepherds were all in. They heard a story, followed it to the source and then shared with anyone who would listen.  For those of us who have heard the good news and traced it back to Him, our job now becomes to share that good news with those around us.  Our lives act as a witness to the world that His story is an integral part of our own story.

We have an opportunity every day to be all in, but especially this advent season as we reflect on the birth of baby Jesus.  We have a story to tell of how the birth of a baby boy thousands of years ago set into motion a love story that would change our lives forever.  This week let’s ask God to use our words to astonish people with his love and let’s live our lives in a way that will bear witness to the mighty God we serve.

A prayer:  Father, we acknowledge that You alone are God.  There was no one before You, and there will be no one after You.  Give us an opportunity this week to share our story with somebody who needs to hear it.  We give you full access to our lives and to the stories You are still writing.  Give us the words to speak, that we might be witnesses to You, our Mighty God.  

O come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant. 

Could that include me?  I wish it did, but honestly, I feel more faithless than faithful at the moment.  Joyful and triumphant?  More like depressed and discouraged.  

The holiday season is upon us, and often it feels more overwhelming than we anticipated.  This magical time of the year that we sing about and celebrate is not exempt from heartache and pain.  Whether we are experiencing something difficult or we are carrying the burden of a friend or family member, these feelings seem more pronounced as we layer them over the backdrop of  holiday joy and cheer.

The absence of loved ones can make us feel acutely alone in a room full of people celebrating.  The loss and rejection we’ve experienced throughout the year come sneaking up behind us, trying to take both our joy and our breath away.

And now I have to be faithful, joyful and triumphant? Great, I’ll add that to the list somewhere between making Christmas cookies, buying teacher gifts, and cleaning my house for company.  It all just feels so exhausting!

But maybe we don’t have to have everything perfectly together before we come.  Maybe we don’t have to be faithful or joyful before we come to the feet of Jesus.  Perhaps the offer is extended to the exhausted and the weary as well as the triumphant.  Could it be that all He’s asking of us is just to come? Exactly as we are?

Come to Jesus with your brokenness and your burnt Christmas cookies.  Come to Him in your yoga pants, your old tattered college sweatshirt, your messy ponytail and day two of no shower.  Come with your sink full of dirty dishes and kids screaming and clamoring around you.  Come with your grief.  Come with your loss. Come with your mistakes.  Come to Him wherever you are with whatever you have.

It doesn’t matter how you come, just that you do.

Come behold Him.

Come adore Him.

Come worship Him.

And when we do, we discover that our simple act of obedience, our willingness to come to Jesus, changes everything.  Like an exchange system where we always come out ahead.  We come to Him just as we are, tired and weary, and He gives fresh perspective and renewed strength.  We bring our mistakes and our regrets and He brings His grace.  We come with our striving and He provides rest.

Don’t be afraid to come to Him today,  just as you are.  Bring your heart and let Jesus’ love transform you from the inside out.  Don’t worry about looking or feeling a certain way before you come–He already sees it all and knows it all.  Come to Him just as you are (messy ponytail and all) and you will find that He is faithful to meet you there.

A prayer:  Father, I pray that today we would enter into a holy exchange system with you.  We bring ourselves, and all the mess that comes with it, in exchange for more of You.  More of your love, patience, kindness and peace.  Thank you, Father, that we always come out ahead when we spend time in your presence.  Amen.  

When you first fall in love, it’s difficult to imagine ever being supremely disappointed in the other person or imagining that there might be an obstacle that you can’t overcome simply by staring into each other’s eyes.  This of course, is exactly why pre-marriage counseling exists.  To have another person, an outside party, ask you some hard questions and give you the tools you’ll need to prepare for the challenging, and also mundane, days that life will inevitably offer you.

When I think back to the weeks that Aaron and I sat together in a counselor’s office, answering difficult questions, discussing expectations, recounting the family atmosphere and parenting styles we had grown up in, I realize just how important that time and those conversations were.  There were things we shared with each other early on that we probably wouldn’t have offered up on our own.  We made decisions, declarations really, of what was going to be most important to us as a couple and what we were going to value.  We were coming together to strategically set the course for our marriage and, ultimately, for the rest of our lives.

Proverbs 11:14 says, “Without good direction, people lose their way; the more wise counsel you follow, the better your chances.” (MSG)

Honestly, who doesn’t want to better their chances?  We all do.  In our marriages, our friendships, our careers, our parenting, our faith journey, our lives, to flourish. 

Notice this verse says “Without good direction…”(emphasis mine).  We don’t just need direction.  We need good direction.  After all, the world is constantly offering up advice as to how we should spend our money, time & resources.  That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good.  We don’t need direction from just anybody.  We need good direction & wise counsel. Christian counselors, pastors, and trusted friends are all great sources to receive wise counsel from BUT we have an even greater source to turn to.  We have the Holy Spirit, our ultimate counselor.  According to Isaiah chapter 9, one of God’s names is Wonderful Counselor.

In John, chapter 14:16-17, Jesus promises the Holy Spirit.  “And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate, who will never leave you.  He is the Holy Spirit who leads into all truth.” Verse 26 says, “But when the Father sends the Advocate as my representative–that is, the Holy Spirit–he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you.”  (NLT) 

Jesus is talking to his disciples in this chapter, preparing them for what is to come.  He knows that he is leaving them soon and that the gift of the Holy Spirit will come.  These verses show us three distinct ways that the Holy Spirit can help us. First, the Holy Spirit will lead us into all truth.  Second, he will teach us.  And lastly, he will remind us of everything Jesus has spoken.

Romans 8:26 also says the Holy Spirit helps our weakness.  “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness.  We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit  himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.”  (NIV)

He is our wise counsel.  He leads us, teaches us, reminds us and helps in our weakness.

Psalm 73:24 says this, “You will keep on guiding me all my life with your wisdom and counsel.”

Let’s not be people who lose their way. Instead, let’s be people who purposefully determine to ask the Holy Spirit for wisdom.  Today let’s spend a few minutes asking for His divine wisdom in our relationships.  May our marriages, families and friendships become strong and healthy as we trust God’s wise counsel.

A prayer:  Father, thank you for the wise counsel that the Holy Spirit gives.  Thank you that we have someone to turn to when we feel weak and need help.  The leading and guiding of the Holy Spirit is a supernatural gift that we are so thankful for.  May we learn to turn to you first when we are in need of wise counsel.  Amen. 

It was Thanksgiving weekend and we had just finished decorating our Christmas tree (a real one, none of this fake tree business) and I was exhausted from all the work entailed with lugging boxes out of storage and finding enough working white lights to cover an 8 ft. tree.  The kids were hungry and I didn’t have enough time or energy to prepare a real meal so I threw together a cheese & cracker plate.  I pulled out a few veggies and some dip and then warmed up some leftover frozen pizza rolls in the oven.  We had a bottle of Welch’s sparkling grape juice and all together, it made up our dinner that night.

The Christmas lights were twinkling and casting a beautiful golden glow in our living room that none of us wanted to miss. So instead of sitting at our dining table I scoured the dark recesses of my cabinets and found some old holiday paper plates and napkins and we made ourselves a little makeshift picnic right there next to the light of our tree.  We huddled together on the floor around our little repurposed black coffee table and Aaron started sharing favorite Christmas memories. Soon he was asking the kids to share and before we knew it, we realized something special was happening.  It was the beauty of the tree that drew us in but the sharing of our stories that kept us there.  That night was like a wonderful gift hand delivered to us, completely unexpected and somewhat magical.

Now, almost 7 years later, it is one of the traditions we most look forward to.  Every year, the weekend after Thanksgiving, we chop down our tree, drag it home, decorate it and then settle in for appetizers and stories by white lights.

Sometimes the most meaningful things happen without any preparation at all. 

This season is full of planned parties, festivities and menus.  And that’s not bad.  There is a lot to be said for putting thought and detail into something and planning it out ahead of time.  I love to have people in my home when we’ve scheduled it and I have the time to clean my house and plan a great menu.  I love to set a beautiful table and make my guests feel special.  But I have to tell you that some of the most life giving conversations that have taken place in my house, some of the most wonderful memories that have been made, have occurred when friends have dropped by unannounced.  With no expectations and zero preparation on my part.  Holy conversations have been held with crumbs on my counter and dirt on my floor.

In this busy season of scheduled everything, don’t be afraid to rogue once in a while.  To toss a schedule or two to the wind, and to just show up.  Somewhere.  Perhaps for someone.  There is beauty in the unannounced visit.  There is healing in the unexpected word of encouragement.  There is grace for the moment, whether you’ve planned for it or not.

A prayer: Father, teach us to make room in our schedule for you. We ask for your wisdom and guidance in our decisions.  May you use us in unplanned ways to speak love and hope into the lives around us.  May we experience more holy moments in the middle of our days. 

I say that not because I am a firstborn but because of how I felt when I held my first child.

I remember that nervous yet exhilarating feeling of having his tiny little body placed into my arms for the very first time.  He was wrapped up tight in a blanket and I was undone.  The depth of my love for him was so intense and so immediate; it took me by surprise.  Suddenly, and almost without warning, I realized I would do anything for this child of mine.  Not only had I given birth, but something had been birthed inside of me.  A desire to love and protect this little life at any cost.

I imagine that Mary felt the same way.  Although she didn’t have an adjustable bed and big fluffy pillows behind her as she drank in the first few hours of her son’s life, I can imagine she felt those same feelings of intense love and fierce devotion.

Parental love—and fear—is an authentic and tangible universal language.

I can’t help but wonder how Mary managed those fears as she watched her little boy mature into a young man.  I wonder if she lost sleep worrying about him and his future.  I wonder if she ever felt not enough at times, questioning whether she was equipped for the monumental task of motherhood.  All of her time, energy and love poured out into this life that would ultimately lay itself down for us all.

The precious gift she had been given would eventually be a gift for all mankind.  A gift of love, quite literally, as 1 John tells us that “God IS love.”

In our earthly understanding of love, one of our best representations is that between mother and child.  It is bond so strong that it gives us a small glimpse into the immeasurable depth of love that God has for each of us.  Paul tells us in Ephesians 3 that he prays that we will have the power to understand the greatness of Christ’s love—how wide, how long, how high, and how deep that love is.

We serve a God who gives us small daily reminders of that love.  From a child’s laugh to the warmth of a loved one’s hand, these are reflections of His love for us.  As we gather this holiday season with family and friends may we sense, more deeply, the greatness of Christ’s love for us.  May we catch another glimpse of the height and depth of His love and may it secure within us a sense of trust so we can walk in confidence of the love He has, not only for us, but also for the world.

A prayer:  Father, we thank You today for the gift of Your Son.  We thank You for the blessings You have given us in the form of our children.  Father, continue to teach us more about Your love.  Help us to walk in the love You have for us, and helps us give that same love to those around us.  We acknowledge that our confidence comes from being secure in the immeasurable love You have for each of us. 

John 3:16

It is probably the most well-known Bible verse of all time.  “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (NIV)  The Message paraphrase says this, “This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son.  And this why:  so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life.”

I love this verse.  I do.  It’s the introduction to God’s love story for us all.  It reveals God’s character and His plan.  It’s inclusive, and teeming with love.  But it’s the following verse, John 3:17, that reads like an exclamation point to me. “God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was.  He came to help us, to put the world right again.”  (MSG)

So many people go through life believing that God goes around pointing an accusing finger, shaking His head in disappointment and sighing at our shortcomings and failures.  But it’s simply not true.  His heart is to help, not to condemn. He sent His only Son into the world to set it right again…to set us right again.

He is our hope.  Not just for life everlasting, but for life right now. 

God’s hope is available to us whether we’re drowning in a sea of laundry or a sea of depression.  We can experience true joy whether life seems relatively easy or we are walking through some of our darkest days.  We can learn to trust His heart whether our circumstances make sense or not.  We have hope for this life right now because Jesus didn’t just come to tell us how bad things are, but He came to help make things better.

Whether this season finds you thriving or just barely surviving, the truth remains the same.  God is our hope and He came to mend things.

A prayer:  Thank you, Father, that You alone are our hope.  Whether we feel especially hopeful or not, You remain our constant.  Help us truly believe that You are not in a continual state of disappointment with us, but rather that You delight in us.  Psalm 149 reminds us that You delight in Your people and You crown the humble with victory.  Father, today, crown us with your victory.  As we humble ourselves before You, please mend broken hearts and fractured relationships.  Thank you for coming to help.  We look forward to the day when all will be set right by You forever. Amen. 

Is there anything more exciting than the news of a baby being born?

As I am typing this, my sister-in-law is in labor.  She’s having baby number three today.  I have checked my phone every five minutes for the last hour just waiting for the call or text to announce her arrival.  Although the days leading up to the delivery have been long and hard for her (chasing a three-year-old and one-and-a-half-year-old around the house while maneuvering a protruding belly and holding down a full-time job), I know that the minute the baby arrives she will gaze into that sweet face and everything else will melt away.

Why?  Because babies are a celebration of life, love, and new beginnings.  They signal a new chapter about to be written in the family’s story.  They usher in a sense of awe, gratefulness, and hope.  Babies are the culmination of creation, pointing us back to our ultimate Creator.  There is something so perfect about a newborn.  New life has a way of rallying us all together to celebrate, connecting our hearts and our lives in a powerfully unique way.

And so it was for the shepherds who found their way to baby Jesus all those years ago.  The setting looked a bit different than our modern-day hospital rooms and birthing centers, but the palpable excitement that settled over that stable was undeniable.  THIS good news, THIS new life, was not just for a few gathered around the manger, but was instead for all mankind, for all eternity.  It was for you.  For me.  For every person that is yet to be.

Baby Jesus was the good news that would bring great joy for all the people! This baby wrapped up in swaddling clothes would usher in a thrill of hope like nothing the world had ever seen or heard before.  I can’t help but believe that the shepherds, as they shared in the celebration, began to feel something give way: in their hearts, in their lives, in the very air that they were breathing.  An expectancy, an anticipation, a feeling that somehow this was what they had been waiting for their entire lives.  A feeling that something was about to shift and, with it, the potential to change not only their lives but also the lives of every generation to come.  Our salvation, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.

A prayer: Father, pervade our hearts with the same expectancy that the shepherds felt all those years ago.  Fill us with a thrill of hope for all that YOu are and all that You have yet planned for us.  Today we believe again for the dreams You have placed inside of us.  God, help us learn to trust Your heart and to trust Your timing.  Thank you Father, that You were then and You are still, our good news.  Amen. 

We had just finished opening presents and my brothers and sister and I were on clean up detail.  First, we set to work gathering all our treasures into individual piles. All discarded plastic packaging went into a giant black garbage bag, but all the gift bags, ribbons, and bows (sometimes even wrapping paper if it was in decent shape) was salvaged for use again the following year.  There were years when I would retrieve a gift from under the tree and spend the next several minutes trying to decipher whose it was. Usually, three or four different names had been written down in various ink colors and then crossed off.  My mom got a lot of mileage out of her gift bags. Oddly enough, I married into a family that does this same thing.

We were almost done cleaning when my dad nonchalantly mentioned that Santa brought one more gift for me and it was waiting in the basement. I bolted down the stairs to discover my very own kitchen play set, complete with a sink, microwave, refrigerator, and oven. To this day I can remember the excitement I felt realizing my parents had given me the perfect gift.

Countless hours were spent downstairs, pretending to whip up delicious food, wash the dishes, and stock the fridge after grocery shopping. In fact, that kitchen set moved outside for an entire summer the year my siblings and I acted out the Boxcar Children books. Those were the days when parents would shove their children out the door in the morning and expect them to entertain themselves. There was usually the opportunity for re-entry sometime around noon for lunch, and then again at supper time. But for the most part, we spent that summer entertaining ourselves and pretending to live in a boxcar. I have so many wonderful memories connected to that play kitchen.

That Christmas I was given a great gift.

One of the greatest things about a good gift is that it’s given willingly and nothing is expected in return. My parents knew I was going to love that play kitchen and they wanted to give it to me without any payment on my part. There was nothing that I had to do on my end other than to accept it. Their desire was to give me a good gift simply because they loved me.

God does the same, only better.

He extends gifts like salvation, patience, peace, joy, wisdom, and comfort. He gives remarkable gifts to us because of His great love for us. We need only accept them.

Today, may we remember that although earthly gifts are good and can even hold wonderful memories for us, there is nothing that comes close to the gift of Jesus.

A prayer: Thank you, God, that you extend Your gift of salvation to us with no strings attached. Thank you that we don’t have to wonder whether the gift is for us. Your gift of salvation is clearly marked for each of us. You desire to give us good gifts simply because You love us.  Thank you again for Your perfect gifts. Amen. 

“For a child has been born – for us! the gift of a son – for us! Isaiah 9:6 (The Message)

A Wonderful Counselor for us.

A Mighty God for us.

An Everlasting Father for us.

 A Prince of Peace for us.

Every title, name, and promise, wrapped up in one tiny package and gently placed in a feeding trough. Our redemption waits for us in a manger.

Amidst a season of rushing and scrambling to find that perfect gift for a loved one, we are reminded again that the greatest gift anyone could ever possibly receive has already been given. The gift of our Savior in the form of a baby. Just like bringing home a newborn causes us to slow down, to take a break from our frantic pace and embrace the miracle of new life, this advent season also invites us to halt our hectic lives and take a moment to simply embrace Jesus.

Let the gift of who He is settle over you today. The Mighty God came for you. His plan included you because his heart is for you. Whether you’ve already accepted this gift or you’re just beginning to unwrap the depth of His love for you, salvation and rest are available to you today in Christ.

During this Advent season, we will be taking some time to look at the amazing promises that have been given unto us through Jesus. From His royal titles to His faithful promises, each of a prized possession passed down to us from a loving Father. Let’s prepare our hearts and wait on Him as we look forward with anticipation to the celebration of Christmas and the gift of God’s one and only Son, Jesus.

“For unto us a child is born; unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulders. These will be his royal titles: “Wonderful,” “Counselor,” “The Mighty God,” “The Everlasting Father,” “The Prince of Peace.” His ever expanding peaceful government will never end. He will rule with perfect fairness and justice from the throne of his father David. He will bring true justice and peace to all the nations of the world.  This is going to happen because the Lord of heaven’s armies has dedicated himself to do it!” Isaiah 9:6,7 (TLB) 

Mothering is a selfless act.  When we mother someone, we are giving them our protective care and kindness.  It involves looking after someone else’s needs, providing for them and lending support. Mothering is nurturing something in someone else.  It’s giving a piece of ourselves to someone else.  So while we may not all be mothers (noun) we are all called to participate in the act of mothering (noun, adj.).  

Mothering is done in nuclear families and mixed, with the neighbors across the street and with nieces and nephews.  Mothering can be done with co-workers, friends, even the children of our friends.  Mothering extends across social and economic boundaries, it crosses personal beliefs and distances.  It cuts through barriers and connects our hearts to another.

For a stay at home mom with young kids, it looks a lot like tending to the daily physical and emotional needs of their littles.  It’s the TLC they give when their child falls and scrapes a knee and the late night rocking back to sleep.  It’s a lack of time for yourself because you’ve given it to another.  It’s selfless and exhausting and holy.

Mothering my daughter, now 13, looks different than it did when she was little.  Instead of kisses and band aids, she needs me to listen to her, to pay attention to what is important to her.  She needs me to lead in example more than ever before, because she’s looking to me to see if I’m being authentic, to see if what I say and how I live, truly line up.  It’s intentional and hard at times. It’s also holy.

When we were youth pastors, and I was surrounded daily by amazing teenage girls, I found they craved acceptance.  They just wanted to know that they were loved and accepted for who they were.  They needed to hear, “You are enough, just as you are.”  I loved my girls and worked hard to be honest and real with them.  Over time, we built trust with one another and it gave me the unique position to be able to speak truth into their lives.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was mothering even then, long before we decided to have kids of our own.

Sometimes mothering involves calling something out in someone else.  Highlighting something special in their life that maybe they don’t have the vantage point or perspective to see yet. It can be something as simple as stating what they are good at, or what you see in them that you admire.  Sometimes, the Holy Spirit breathes on those simple words and it’s like the oxygen needed to fan the flames and bring a thing, a decision, a person, to life.

Mothering can sometimes feel mundane, but it is always holy.

If you look up synonyms for the word mothering, here’s a few of the words that will come up:  Cherish, care for, nurture, rear, nurse, tend, bring forth, produce, bear, inspire, reproduce, cure, heal, remedy…and the list goes on.  Nothing short of holy work.

Some of us are mothers, but all of us are doing the holy work of mothering. And today, (and every day) I honor you.

For those of you who are experiencing a loss this Mother’s Day, whether it’s grieving the loss of a child, the hope of one, or perhaps the expectation of what you thought motherhood would be like, I pray God would send someone to mother you during this difficult season.

Philippians 2:1-4 says this: “Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.  Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.  Rather, in humility values others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interest of others.”  Paul is basically saying here that if we have experienced the comfort and tenderness of God’s love for us, then we ought to follow His example and do the same.  We should pour into others this same love and tenderness that we have been shown.

We have been authorized and empowered to carry out this holy work.

The reason we can mother well, is because Jesus is our example.  We have experienced encouragement from Him, we have felt comfort from His love and we have felt His tender compassion towards us. He is our example in all things, even in mothering.

I pray today that you would experience his love and comfort in a personal way and that it would spur you on to share it with those around you.  Mothering is a hard and holy work, but you were made for it!

It’s finally summer and you know what that means!  Well, aside from lax schedules, entire days spent outdoors and lots of late nights, for me it means more time to read.  Some of my favorite books have come from recommendations from others and so I thought I’d share a few of mine with you.

I was listening to a podcast recently, “That Sounds Fun with Annie F. Downs” and she was interviewing Anne Bogel who shared some great book recommendations.  Bogel has two podcasts herself, “What Should I Read Next?” and “One Great Book.”  Bogel’s forte is all things books and reading, so if you are a book lover, you should definitely subscribe to her podcasts.  For those of you stressing out over finishing a book that you don’t really have much excitement for, can I offer a piece of advice?  Let it go.  Give yourself permission to not have to finish it.  Move on and find a book that does excite you and get reading!  We spend enough time doing things we don’t want to do, don’t make the joy of reading become a chore.  That’s my advice.

Holly Furtick has an online book club on Instagram and she recently recommended “Belgravia,” by Julian Fellowes.  I was looking for a new read, so I bought it and basically devoured it.  Julian Fellowes is the creator of Downton Abbey, so if you enjoyed the show, you’ll definitely want to check this one out.

Why I loved this book: It was an easy read.  Set in the early 1800’s,  it touches on British Society and a man desperate to rise into the aristocratic ranks.  The first chapter sets the stage for the rest of the story which occurs some 25 years later.  There are some twists and turns in the plot, characters you love to hate, and some you hate but feel sorry for, and of course some people you find yourself rooting for. Everything wraps up rather neatly in the end (whether that makes you happy or disappointed to know, you can be the judge.)

I’m currently reading “Lost Roses” by Martha Hall Kelly.  If you haven’t read her other book, “Lilac Girls,” go right now and get it!

Why I loved/am loving these books:

“Lilac Girls” is inspired by the life of a real World War II heroine, Caroline Ferriday.  It weaves together the story of three women:  a New York socialite, a polish teenager & a young German doctor.  It tells the harrowing story of the medical experimentation that took place on countless Polish women while being held by the Nazis at Ravensbruck concentration camp.  I seriously cannot recommend this book enough.  If you love WWII historical fiction, this is a must read!

“Lost Roses,” which I am currently reading (and is sitting on my dining table taunting me to read it) is a novel set a generation earlier and features Caroline’s mother, Eliza Ferriday.  It is a prequel to “Lilac Girls” and I am all in at the moment.  It’s also inspired by true events and follows the story of three women from New York, to St. Petersburg and Paris.  It’s a beautiful story of women’s friendships set against the bleak backdrop of some of our history’s darkest days.

I read a book two summer’s ago that made it on my “must read” list.  Beneath A Scarlet Sky, by Mark Sullivan, is one of my all time favorite books.

Why I loved this book: 

It’s set in Italy during WWII (I know what you’re thinking, “again with the WWII era,” and all I can say is, I will not apologize. It is also based on the true story of a forgotten hero.  The novel follows Pino Lella from his days as a normal teenage boy who wants nothing to do with war and then eventually joins an underground railroad, helping Jews escape over the Alps.  He is forced to enlist as a German soldier by his parents in an attempt to protect him.  However, at the age of eighteen becomes the personal driver for Adolf Hitler’s left hand in Italy, General Hans Leyers.  As he works for Leyers and has an opportunity to spy for the Allies, he witnesses the horrors of war and continues to fight for freedom and for the chance that he will one day be reunited with his love.

Just buy the book and you can thank me later.

One of the books on my nightstand currently is a book I’ve already read and plan on reading again this summer.  “La la Lovely,” by Trina McNeilly, is exactly that, lovely.  From the moment a dear friend gifted this book to me, I knew I had been given something special.  The  size, the font, the front cover, all of it spoke of beauty and as I turned the pages, revealed even more.

Why I plan to reread this book once a year:

Inside the pages is an invitation to something we often need reminding of, a call to behold beauty.  Often times we think beauty only exists in pretty places.  But beauty is deeper than simply pretty, and often times our disappointments, failures and the jagged edges of life produce the deepest beauty.  From personal stories, gorgeous photos and even some helpful decorating tips, the author invites us to not only behold beauty, but also to pursue it.  “To find beauty within the broken is to behold, ‘to keep and remember,’ the goodness of God.”

Everyone will get something out of this book but if you’re a #2, #3 or #4 on the Enneagram, (part of the heart Triad) you will likely find this book to be deeply moving and inspiring.

Speaking of the Enneagram, I recently purchased a book that I am really enjoying called, “The Path Between Us” by Suzanne Stabile.  Now, before I go any further, I should let you know that I believe the Enneagram can be a useful tool in discovering who we are and how we relate to those around us.  I don’t consider it to be an authority in my life nor does it trump the word of God, but I do believe it can be useful in helping me understand not only myself, but also a resource in helping me discover how to relate to other people.  Relationships are highly valuable to me and this has become a tool in helping me better understand myself and my loved ones.

Why I loved this book:

This book dives into the nine different Enneagram types and how they each behave and experience relationships.  Often times our behaviors (seen) can be similar to another person, while our motivation (unseen) can be vastly different.  Understanding these motivations and the dynamics that each personality type can bring, can help us better understand ourselves and others.  I have found it wildly helpful in better understanding why I sometimes react the way I do in certain situations.  It has also opened a dialogue between myself and some of the most important relationships in my life, and allowed me to catch a glimpse into areas of dysfunction in my life.  At the same time, it has allowed me to fully embrace the unique traits and attributes that God has placed inside of me, embracing all of it with an increased desire for growth.

I hope one of these recommendations has sparked an interest for you.  Reading has always been a wonderful retreat for me and I hope it can be one for you as well.  I traveled all the way to Santorini, Greece last summer and do you know what I did?  I hunted down a local bookstore that I had been fangirling over on Instagram called Atlantis Books.  It was this crazy, eclectic, wonderful bookstore that Aaron and I spent over an hour rummaging through.  It was one of the highlights of our trip for me.

If you have a book that has inspired, helped, or even just entertained you, I’d love for you to share it in the comments below. I’ll leave you with this quote from C.S. Lewis that I feel like I could’ve written, “You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.” Happy reading.

The second time she knocked out her (other) front tooth was when we were visiting grandma Broberg and she decided to quietly sneak into the kitchen, drag a chair over to the cupboard, and hoist herself onto the counter to snag herself a famously dubbed “grandma snack.” Well, she achieved her goal only to succumb to a faulty dismount that left her with one less tooth.

So when I learned last week that she had sustained a badminton racquet to the mouth from a kid in gym class and had chipped off a large portion of her front right tooth, although I shouldn’t have been too surprised, I was.  I figured she was done with tooth injuries but I guess I was wrong.

This time was a little harder for her. The other two times she had lost a tooth, she had been so young.  Before her hot tears were dry on her chubby little cheeks she was running around again, defying nature without a care in the world.  But this time she was an 11-year old girl, keenly aware of how she presents herself to the world.  A middle school tween, trying to figure out her place in this world.  And although she’s incredibly brave, she’s also still my little girl.  I knew in my heart that the question was coming.

But I was wrong, she never asked me anything.  Instead, she declared it. “Mom, I’m so ugly with my tooth like this.” It broke my heart to hear her say it, but I let it hang there in the air for a moment.  Although untrue, it was an expression of how she felt, and I always want her to feel safe in sharing her feelings with me.  “I don’t think that’s true,” I finally said.  I went on to explain to her how nothing about who she is had changed.  And it’s who she is that makes her beautiful.

Several nights later I was tucking her in bed, snuggled up next to her.  I was tickling her back when she said it again, “I just feel so stupid & ugly with my tooth half missing.”  As we talked a bit more about how she was feeling and about what makes a person truly beautiful, I realized again how easy it is to believe lies.  How without even realizing it, we can believe things about ourselves and even about others, that just aren’t true.

We believe the lie that we aren’t GOOD enough. We aren’t SMART enough. We aren’t PRETTY enough.  But enough for what? Enough for who?

She was believing the lie that because her tooth was chipped that it somehow made her less attractive which in turn made her less valuable as a person.  Which is completely untrue.  But I quickly realized, I still have faulty thinking myself.  There are times in my own life when I’m too busy to get a home cooked meal on the table, or my house is messy, or one of my kids does or says something unkind, and I believe the lie that says I’m a failure as a mom.  Sometimes when I haven’t been exercising or have been eating my feelings, I believe the lie that I’m not enough because I weigh more than I’d like.  I’m constantly battling the lie that says I’m not enough as a pastor’s wife because my personality and giftings don’t seem to line up with what many would expect.

But the only way to combat lies is to replace them with truth.

We believe lies all the time.  Because of _____, you’re not enough.  When the truth is we are always enough for God.

The truth is because of Jesus, we are FORGIVEN (1 John 1:9), FREE (John 8:32, 36) SAVED (Ephesians 2:8-9) LOVED (John 3:16) (Romans 5:8) STRONG (Isaiah 40:31) (Psalm 27:14) (Joshua 1:9) & VICTORIOUS (1 Corinthians 15:57) (1 John 5:4) (Romans 8:37).

As we talked, I felt like we were chipping away at the lies together.   Like each lie that was identified and brought into the light, His light, was like striking a chisel with a mallet.  Slowly chipping away at the thick layer of lies and revealing His beautiful truth.

Today, let’s exchange the lies of the Enemy for the truth of His word. Let’s believe with all of our hearts that we are made in His image and our identity is found solely in Him.  We do not find our identity in other people, in our successes or our failures, we don’t find it material things or in our physical appearance.  We refuse to believe the lies.  Instead, we exchange them for the truth of who God says we are.

If you have time today, listen to Lauren Daigle’s song, “You Say,” and allow the truth of who God says you are to change your faulty thinking. Let his truth replace the lies.  His word tells us that we are declared righteous through our faith in Jesus (Romans 5:1) and that He calls us by name and we are His. (Isaiah 43:1)

Sometimes the really important work in life doesn’t feel very important when you’re in the midst of it.

Instead, it feels hard, looks quite unimpressive and would be easier to just dismiss.  Because of this, I often find myself wanting to move on to things that look or seem more important.  I want to work on the seen things.  Our minds are trained to believe that if nobody sees the quiet, hard work, then does it really matter? In a world that glorifies what it sees, or what is posted on FB or Instagram, often it’s the small personal areas of our mind, heart & soul that we neglect.

Photo by Eric Ward on Unsplash

To be honest, I’ve been in a bit of a “blah” season of life lately.  Nothing particularly awful, but just a lot of normal crap.  You know what I mean.  Life is like that sometimes.  But what I’ve noticed is that when I feel like this, it’s easier for my mind to wander.  I am more prone to comparison, a tad more easily offended and just overall, a less fun person to be around.

But being that you don’t actually live in my mind with me, (go ahead and say a quick “Hallelujah” right now) I can easily present a fairly put together package on the outside while inside, my thoughts are leading me astray.

Chances are, you’ve experienced this yourself at one time or another.  From the conversations I’ve had over the years with countless women, it seems to be something that we females struggle with quite a bit.

What I’ve discovered over the years is that although there isn’t a whole lot I can do to stop these crazy thoughts and feelings from sneaking in, there are things I can do to stop them in their tracks.  Just because they come, doesn’t mean I have to invite them to stay.

Here are a few things I do that have really helped improve my odds of staying “sane” through the blah feelings that inevitably come.  They are unseen things.  But they are important and worthwhile things.

1.  Choose to believe the best. 

Choose to believe the best about whoever it is that is racing around in that head of yours.  Sometimes this is easier said than done. But so often, the inner dialogue of our mind can take on a persona all its own, and if we’re not careful, we can actually find ourselves making up stuff that didn’t even happen.  We can rehearse things so many times in our mind that we actually invent conversations that never even took place. We take on offenses that were never intended for us. Not that I’ve ever done something like this of course, but I’ve heard it can happen. It’s like playing the old game telephone.  We start out with something benign and up with something cancerous.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

But listen, it’s our choice.  We get to decide if we will choose to believe what our feelings are screaming at us in the moment, or if we will choose to believe the best about the situation or the person in question. I’d rather choose to believe the best about someone and risk being wrong.  If I am wrong, it hasn’t done me any harm and ultimately says more about the other person than it does me.

In my worst moments, when insecurity meets with isolation, I have thought straight up crazy thoughts.  I once thought one of my very best friends didn’t even like me. We laugh now, because of course after I broke out of my fog I could see how ridiculous it was.  But in that moment, in the midst of all my feelings, it felt very real.

Feelings come & feelings go.  In moments where you’re high on all the feels, make the conscious decision to stop your downward spiral and choose to believe the best.

2.   Make a move, shift your focus. 

When you’re feeling blah, and your mind has too much time on its hands, sometimes the best thing to do is to make a physical change.  Whether that’s going from the couch to the laundry room or taking a walk outside, move your body and shift your focus.

For me, a lot of times it helps to do a task.  I’ll throw a load of laundry in or clean the bathroom, something that kind of takes my mind off of things for a while.  If it’s nice outside, there’s nothing like a long walk or a short run to clear my mind.  Sometimes, if I’m really in my head, I will turn on music to help drown out all the crazy.  A 5-minute dance party with music blaring and all my signature dance moves done in the privacy of my own living room has been known to cure a lot of the crazies.  But whatever you choose, it’s a shift of focus off of yourself and onto something else for a while.  It can help clear your mind and give clarity to the situation.  Sometimes a shift of focus is all we need to help shift our perspective.

3.  Empty out, Fill up. 

You’ve heard the saying, “garbage in, garbage out.”  Well, it’s true.  But the opposite of this is also true.  “Good stuff in, good stuff out.”  You can find this truth in Scripture.   Luke 6:45 says, “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”  (NIV)

When my mind has jumped ship and my emotions have me feeling like I’m in a downward spiral ready to burst into flames upon entry, the thing I most need is the very essence of who Jesus is: grace & truth.  I need both His grace to comfort me and His truth to guide me. And I get both of these as I read His word.

I can’t tell you how often His word has healed my troubled mind. A prayer of surrender (empty out) and reading the Bible (fill up) has saved me from my crazy thoughts a thousand times and more.  Time spent in prayer, studying His word or listening to worship music are all great tools to get our hearts and minds back on the right track.  There have been times when I have noticed a shift in the atmosphere of my home due to the worship music playing in the background.  Never underestimate the power of inviting God’s presence into your space.

As life would have it, I’ve had to put these into practice myself while writing this post.  And to be honest, it wasn’t easy.  I struggled. (But hey, I did get a four mile run out of it!) There are going to be times when we have to actively fight against the thoughts and lies that come our way.  And although it often goes unnoticed by others, it never goes unnoticed by our God.  He knows us and he understands us better than we do ourselves.  And I believe He values the unseen, difficult things we do.  Perhaps even more so, at times, than the things we do that are visible to others.

If you’re going through something hard, if it seems like the work you’re putting into it is going unnoticed, believe today that God sees.  He cares about your situation and He values the time and work put into the difficult, unseen areas and seasons of our lives.  Remind yourself again today of His love and His faithfulness towards you.  Psalm 26:3  “For I have always been mindful of your unfailing love and have lived in reliance on your faithfulness.” (NIV) Let’s live our lives relying on the faithfulness of our God.

*I’d love to hear your thoughts on what has helped you when you find yourself in that “crazy” space that we all find ourselves in from time to time. Comment below!

Motherhood, in its truest sense, is just plain bittersweet.  We do our best to embrace the present but it’s always accompanied by a remembrance of the past and a hope toward the future.  Because of this, our mama hearts are in constant limbo.  But, I believe there is something truly beautiful about the collection process of both the mundane and the magical.  Motherhood is largely comprised of the two coming together and creating in us a sense that all of life is a little bittersweet.

To the twisting and turning

of tiny little hands and mama hearts

growing together

and yet also apart

To the sleep that we long for

when they’re young and they need us

and the hours we spend

just praying they’ll heed us

To the yearnings we have

for both more and for less

we could use more time and energy

and do without all the messes and stress

To the worry that greets us in some form every day

for their safety, for bravery and for finding their way

For the days that seemed long

and the years far too short

for the way they will always crave

our love and support

To the bubbles and chalk

turned soccer and gaming

and all of the hours

spent training and taming

To the days we resorted

to locking bathroom doors

which became prayer closets, scream closets

and so much more

To the moments we sat and we soaked it all in,

their laughter, their freckles, their missing tooth grin

To the highs and the lows

and all our parts we wish wouldn’t jiggle

to the endless questions and jokes

and their sweet sounding giggles

To the wanting of time

to pass both quickly and slow

to the aches and the pains

of watching them grow

Just stay like this please for a little bit longer

as the days pass by and we both grow stronger

To Motherhood-

Everything we dreamed and

never imagined it would be

to the moments that feel like treasures

and the ones resembling debris

You’ve tucked and reminded

given and guided

You’ve brought out my worst

but also my best

I’ve been tired and cranky

and needed some rest

But I’ve also served tirelessly with

very little praise

hour after hour

for days upon days

I’ve yelled out of anger

and screamed with delight

and there have been so many days when

I’ve felt I haven’t done anything right

To the morning snuggles

and the goodnight kisses

and a heaping amount

of altogether misses

To the hard and the easy

where they both come to meet

Motherhood, you are exhausting and rewarding

and oh so bittersweet

I recently spent a glorious week basking in the Florida sun with my daughter and some of our dearest friends. The trip was an early birthday present for my daughter and her friend who have been asking to make this trip together since they were in the First Grade. The forecast for our time there was absolute perfection and the weather lived up to its promises.

We spent our days swimming in grandma Mary’s pool, sightseeing & discovering different beaches. I am a sun & sand lover by nature but honestly, my favorite thing about the beach is the ocean.
There is just something about the sound of the ocean washing into shore that sets my soul at ease. There is something so familiar about the salt infused air as it enters my lungs and causes a deep relaxation to settle in. I was reminded again of the holiness that exists within His creation.

As I stood looking out into the ocean, the sun shimmering off the surface and causing it to sparkle in golden hues, I met with the Creator of it all. The ocean as my altar, my heart knelt in the sand and a holy exchange took place. My offering a simple one, myself. His, one of grace and steadfast love for me. It’s overwhelming, that kind of exchange. One where you bring nothing and yet receive everything.

There are moments in life that kinda take your breath away. Where you wish time would stand still and you could hold onto it just a little bit longer. This past week was like that for me. There were occasions when I would look at Hannah, on the verge of becoming a young woman and yet childlike enough to still find a thrill in unearthing seashells, and she would catch my gaze and hold it. Moments that made my throat grow tight and stung my eyes as tears threatened to find their way down my cheek. We walked the beaches hand in hand, without much fussing over words. Sometimes beauty is so evident that stating it seems futile. And sometimes moments need to be experienced more than they need to be preserved. And so we tried our best just to linger in it, the beauty and the holiness of the moment.

But life isn’t always so gracious, sometimes it’s hard & callous and it robs us of our breath as the jagged edges of pain and loss tear their way through us.  As I listen to the stories coming in from the Florida school shooting (so close to where we just were), my throat grows dry and tight. My eyes once again burn with stinging tears, as I struggle to make sense of it all.

The victims, each name becoming its own personal prayer:

Helena, Alex, Cara, Carmen, Peter, Nicolas, Gina, Martin, Jaime, Joaquin, Scott, Alyssa, Alaina, Chris, Meadow, Aaron & Luke.

I find myself at an altar once again. This time instead of warm, soft sand covering my feet, my knees feel the stiffness of the rug beneath me and my face is tucked into the cushions of my couch. My altar looks a bit different, but the same exchange that took place at the shores of the ocean will occur here too. I will come with nothing but myself, my questions, my pain, my doubts…and He will bring all that He is, just like He always does. His peace, wisdom, comfort & love.

Just the mention of their names will be my simple prayer today. My only prayer, as words escape me. Because just like a perfect moment can steal your breath away, so can unimaginable loss. But there is one more name I know, one more prayer to say today, and that is Jesus. He is my prayer. He is my answer. He is my hope.

I was reading recently about WWI and about the story of the Christmas Truce of 1914. It was a little over 4 months into the war when on December 7th, Pope Benedict XV suggested a temporary hiatus of the war in order to celebrate Christmas. Although the warring countries refused any official cease-fire, on Christmas Day the soldiers in the trenches decided to declare their own unofficial truce.

On Christmas Eve of 1914, the sound of German and British troops singing Christmas carols to each other could be heard from across enemy lines. On Christmas Day, German soldiers emerged from the trenches, crossed through no-man’s-land, (a desolate area comprised mostly of decay and rotting corpses) and approached the Allied lines while calling out “Merry Christmas” in their enemies’ native tongues. Although it seems the Allied forces at first thought it to be a trick, they quickly realized the Germans were unarmed and then climbed out of their trenches to shake hands and even exchange presents with the enemy soldiers. There was also a documented case of a game of soccer taking place between soldiers on opposing sides. For that day anyway, the fighting ceased and the term enemy was replaced with fellow soldier.

I find this story fascinating. With our world seemingly at war with one another and hate distorting our vision, we could desperately use a cease-fire of our own. A day of rest, a break from the constant warring with one another.

Our world is being torn into pieces as our eyes bear witness to the devastation. And just like no-man’s land, all of the fighting and hate has left a barren wasteland where people lay injured, broken and dying. Conversations like mud puddles, stomped underfoot on our way to proving how right we are. Sharing opinions in a respectful way has become lost in the sound of gunfire as it reverberates in our chest and sends a tinging sound to our ears. Our words being the ammunition necessary to fire our weapons.

What this world needs is more people who will emerge from their trenches of self-preservation and brave the desolate walk through no-man’s land. Those who are willing to embrace the humanity in us all that lies just on the other side of the battle line.

Somewhere amidst all of the fighting we have lost sight of the fact that we’re not sworn enemies, but rather, fellow soldiers. Human and hurting. Trying our best. Fighting our own hidden battles.

And yet someone needs to go first.

So who will start the singing? Who will be willing to learn another’s native tongue in order to speak words that will convey love, peace and hope? Who will make the effort to come to another, perceptions surrendered, and be willing to embrace all of the things we still have in common?

As this year draws to a close and with the new year upon us, we have the chance to start fresh again. To determine how we are going to respond to those around us, to set the tone for how we are going to handle disagreements. We can draw up our own truce. One that will set the tone for the year ahead. A declaration to fight for those around us instead of against. One where we are intentional in connecting with others over all the things we still have in common. One where love is emphasized instead of minimized.

We don’t have to wait for someone else to declare an official cease-fire. We have the power to initiate our own. Let’s make the decision to put down our weapons and pick up the hand of the person next to us. Let’s choose love over hate. Perhaps those first few shaky steps out of our trenches will inspire the person next to us to do the same. Then maybe we’ll be able to experience the depth of the beauty that exists in our shared humanity and we can exchange the greatest gift of all – love.

The news sears its images into my head and slices my heart into tiny little pieces.  Twenty six of them to be exact.  The concrete steps that led them towards Light are now darkened by the shadow of death.  As a hallelujah chorus began to ring out, the sound of gunfire drowned it out, bullets spraying over a congregation that would exchange their celebration song for cries of mercy.

Lying mangled on the floor are lives and hope extinguished.

And we rush to make sense of it all.  To tidy it up and put a label on it so that we can process it and move on.  We’re always so ready to move on.

But I think what we really need is to just sit with things for a while.  With people.  With heartache. With disappointment.  Let it linger for a moment longer, the discomfort of not being able to make sense of it all.  There is something holy that takes place when realize that we don’t have all the answers.  It’s an acknowledgment on our part that we submit to a God who does.  In a world where we pursue and seek comfort at all costs, we sometimes bypass the benefits that come from being a little uncomfortable.  

Questions and doubts, unimaginable pain and loss, they point us towards Him.

I don’t understand.  And I am mad, terrified and sick to my stomach, all at the same time. I don’t have all the answers.  As I talk to my children about it, I wish I could explain it all away.  That I could process it all with one simple conversation and then just move on with my day.  But I can’t.  And honestly, I don’t even think I should.

My kids need to see that I don’t have all the answers.  That there will be times when I am left with nothing other than, “We still have hope, He is our Hope.”  I want them to see me linger over important things. These are the moments in life when we show our kids exactly where our hope comes from.  It doesn’t come from our own wisdom.  And it doesn’t disappear in the face of adversity or even sheer evil.  Our hope IS IN God.

And although there are times, like the events that unfolded in a small town church in Texas yesterday, where it looks like all hope is lost, like it’s crumpled up in a heap on the floor, with God – it never is. Because our hope was there inside the church before the gunman entered, He was there in the midst of the chaos and in the horror of the aftermath.  He was there as people took their last breath before coming face to face with Him.  Our hope was with the victims and He is with us too.

He is our ONLY Hope.

Our giant oak tree came down today.

The city sent out a crew, on our request, to take out the gigantic tree that sits near the road and is eating into our driveway.  Standing on our sidewalk, all you can see for blocks is an army of trees lining the boulevard, standing tall and proud, keeping guard like a watchman.

It’s a beautiful stretch of foliage that in the summer gives way to a canopy of lush green leaves and in the fall, with the late afternoon sun gently resting on them, takes your breath away with the dazzling hues of crimson red, golden yellow and burnt orange.  Honestly, I will miss the grand old oak.  But we have had too many close calls and several accidents involving people trying to back out of our driveway. It was starting to impede with everyday life. 

When I returned home late this morning, they were already hard at work taking it down.The noise level caused me to hurry inside the house quickly, still managing to catch some sawdust in my eye as I passed by.  From a quieter distance and without any foreign debris interfering with my vision, I stood by our large front window, mesmerized by the scene unfolding before me.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the almost ballet like dance that was being performed in my front yard. And starring workmen wearing hard hats and neon green vests at that.  As Levi and I gazed at the scene together we realized that although this massive tree wielded great strength, the workmen were in complete control of each branch that fell.

It was amazing to watch them work.  There was an intricate web of rope used to secure and tie off the branch that was next up to be removed by the chainsaw.  As the blade found its way through the last few inches of the branch, separating it from the trunk, it fell almost in slow motion as it neared the ground and gently swayed back and forth under the direction of the workers.  Never did they wonder which branch was going to fall or where it might land.  They were in charge, they knew.  The branch would land exactly as they had planned.

So often in life when we are in the midst of hard stuff, from small branches being removed to entire trees being uprooted, we wonder if God will really be able to handle it.  We doubt his ability to work on our behalf.  We worry that our branches will tumble to the ground with a thud and we will be left with the marks of its haphazard descent.

But as I sat there watching the men work, watching the control they had over the process and over each and every branch that was removed, I was reminded again of the incredible way God cares for each of us.  He is in control.  Nothing happens that he does not see or does not care about.  Not a single branch falls that he’s not aware of.  He is there in the midst of our mess and  upheaval, gently guiding the fallen branches down.  Never does He wonder what is going to happen or exactly what that might look like.  He’s in charge, he already knows. Every branch will land under his watchful care.

He stands guard over us, directing the descent of our difficulties.

Psalm 121:5-8 says,

“The Lord watches over you—
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
The Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

So if you’re going through something messy or difficult where you feel like chaos is reigning and you’re not sure whether you’re going to make it through, be reminded that He’s got it all under control.  Rest in the fact that he stands guard over you and takes great care in causing those things to fall gently into place under his watchful charge.  He watches over our coming and going both now and always.  Amen.

Good-bye sweet girl.

These are the words that were silently spoken by my heart this morning as I watched my daughter leave for school.

I stood there, from our front door, watching her walk away.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.  The chilly air kissed my face and my bare feet were planted on the cold, wet concrete steps.  My heart felt like it was stuck in my throat and tears, like prisoners, tried escaping down my cheek.  All at once it felt like a decade had passed me by in the blink of an eye.

Today my baby is 10.

I remember the days, they don’t seem all that long ago now, when I would find myself dreaming of a time when my kids would be more independent.  I remember anticipating the days where all three of my children would be able to feed themselves, get dressed on their own, and do basic hygiene without any help from their mama.  And I realize, a little despairingly now, that my dreams have come true.

Looking at her I see both the little girl she still is and the young woman she’s becoming.  She’s caught in between two worlds right now, balancing them as best she can.  There are times when she laughs and her single side dimple takes center stage and a rush of images of her as a toddler comes sweeping over me.  She had the craziest curly hair that was somewhat unruly, usually finding its way out of her clip or pony and falling promptly over eyes.  At one point her nose actually turned orange due to all the orange colored fruits and vegetables she consumed, which only added to her wild look.  She has always been my brave, spirited, eclectic old soul.

I remember holding her for the very first time, soaking in all of her delicate features, inhaling the sweet scent of newborn, and feeling like our family was finally complete.  I remember when the doctor announced it was a girl, I turned to Aaron and asked him if it was true, as if somehow needing him to verify it.  He nodded his head at me, a gentle smile forming and tears beginning to well up in his eyes and I jut came undone.  It felt like the journey we had been on to create our family, to carve out our own little tribe in this world, was somehow finally complete.

The only thing that keeps this mama heart from snatching all three of my kiddos up and trying to defy time by keeping them with me for ALL OF THE DAYS, is the richness these past years have brought with them.  Each stage, each season, has had its own unique challenges, yes, but also its own rewards.  We are currently in a season where all of my children are developing their own sense of humor.  These children of mine are actually quite funny!!! For someone who values laughter as much as I do, I consider this our new sweet spot.  The highlight of the last two weeks for my husband and I has been a series we now refer to as: The Swimming Saga, where my oldest recounts interesting and hilarious highlights from his swimming class.  He’s got a whole bit on it and it’s hilarious.

So while the days of rocking my babies to sleep is behind me, I am working on learning to embrace this new season and all that it has to offer.  Watching my baby girl morph into a young woman is bittersweet.  There are moments that catch on my heart and cause me to unravel.  But honestly, I think that’s okay.  I think it’s a sign that we’re loving well.  So I will say good-bye to you each morning that you head out the door sweet girl and welcome all the days ahead.

So, I’m turning the big “40” here in a few days and while this milestone birthday can be a bit depressing for many, I find myself excited for this next decade and all that it will hold.  Honestly, turning 30 was kind of hard for me. And yet, as leery as I was heading into those years, some of my greatest personal growth occurred during that time. Here are a few things I have worked hard at in the last decade that have also enriched my life immensely.

1.)  Girlfriends that love fiercely.

One of the best things about being this age is that I’ve learned how to choose well when it comes to my friendships.  I’ve discovered that great friendships don’t just materialize, they are made.  It takes time and energy to form a deep and lasting friendship.  A friendship that’s worth anything to you has undoubtedly endured misunderstandings, hurt feelings and a few bumps and bruises along the way.  But that’s what makes them so valuable.  You’ve invested your time and a decent amount of work into the relationship.  You’ve taken risks and have shared vulnerable moments together.  If it’s a truly deep friendship you have probably had to lovingly correct, ask for forgiveness and possibly even work through moments of jealousy. But strong, healthy friendships go there.  They do the hard, deep work because they know the reward is worth it.  These friendships, the ones that love fiercely, that go the extra mile and are committed to digging in and doing the hard work when life calls for it, these are amongst the sweetest gifts God gives.

I think one of the reasons that friendships can be so incredible at this age is that most of us have figured out who we are and who we want to surround ourselves with.  We have settled into our lives and are more confident and comfortable with who we are which often time allows us to be a kinder, more gentler version of ourselves.  I also think we’ve learned that it’s not only okay but also pretty normal to have only a few really close friends.  We just don’t have the time and energy to be everyone’s best friend and we’ve realized that it’s okay.  We’ve given ourselves permission to cultivate the relationships we’ve chosen. We have discovered that it is our choice who we decide to let into our inner circle.  We have the right to choose who we let our guard down with, are completely honest and vulnerable with, and allow to speak over and into our lives.  These kind of friendships are also usually pretty rare so when we find ourselves gifted with them, we recognize their true value.

2.) The ability to say NO.

This is an area that I’m still perfecting but have made great progress in. What is it about being a woman that makes it so hard for us to say no to things? We say “yes” all day long in attempt to make everyone happy and yet often times, at the end of the day we are the very ones who are unhappy. Unhappy because we haven’t done a single thing for ourselves the entire day. It’s amazing to me how discovering the importance of taking just a few minutes a day, every day, to do something that feeds you, can be such a benefit to not only you but your entire family.  Reading a magazine or a book, taking a hot bath, exercising, taking a short nap, whatever it is that will feed you that day, take 20 minutes and do it!  When I was housebound for years with my three little kiddos, ages 3 and under, I would hand them off to their father (Here, take YOUR children honey) the minute he walked through the door and I would GET THE MAIL.  Seriously.  I would walk to the end of the driveway, alone, no littles hanging off of me or clinging to my knee, and I would get the mail.  I must’ve had baby brain to have not picked something a little more exciting, but it was my lifeline.  Sometimes I would find myself circling the block before coming back inside. Of course there were the occasional longer lap days and one day in particular where I walked for 3+ miles contemplating whether there would even be a return trip.  We laugh about my mail breaks to this day but honestly, there were days when that 5 minute break made all the difference.

I think it’s important to note that there will be seasons in our life when we are able to “yes” to more and also seasons where “no” will be our wiser answer. One of the best books I’ve read regarding this is Lysa TerKeurst’s book, “The Best Yes.” In it, she talks about making wise decisions in the midst of our endless demands. I think the key word here is wise. It’s really important for us as women to know what our priorities are and learn to start there with our time and our “yes.” From there, depending on how much we have left to give, we can fill in. When we start by saying yes to the things that are our non-negotiables or our core values, we give them first priority and they get the time and attention they deserve. We will have to learn how to say no to perfectly good things if we have any hope of saying yes to the best things for us.

3.)  A husband who is a best friend.

I don’t think I really understood this concept when my husband and I were first dating.  I mean sure, I knew I wanted my future husband to be my friend but I didn’t really understand the depth that our friendship would reach.  A husband/wife relationship is so unique because it encompasses so much.  I have no other relationship that combines the role of friend, lover and co-parent.  We both know the importance of putting each other first, remembering we were first a couple before we became a family, and yet we also climb into bed with each other every. single. night. So there’s a very real struggle against the monotony of it all.  Which is why I love that after all these years, 17 in August, he is still my very favorite person in the whole world.  He is the one I always want to spend time with because he’s not just my husband, he’s my best friend.

I remember when I was a young girl thinking about the characteristics I wanted most in a future husband.  My top two were that I wanted him to be my best friend and I wanted somebody who likes to laugh.  If you know me, you know how really true this is.  I love to laugh!!! I have an obnoxious snort that sometimes escapes when I’m laughing and has kind of become my signature trait over the years.  If you get a snort from me, it essentially means that you are hilarious. If you know Aaron, you know that I got what I wished for with him.  He loves to laugh and is highly entertaining when telling stories.  His sarcastic humor is something I cannot get enough of!  I can’t tell you what a gift it has been over the years to have my best friend by my side, laughing through the ups and downs of life.  We have literally laughed our way through some of life’s hardest moments.  A good sense of humor trumps almost anything in my book and it seems the older I get the easier it is to laugh at not only my circumstances but also myself.  And this is something that comes with age as well I think.  The older you get, the easier it is to take yourself less seriously and learn to roll with whatever life throws at you.  I am so incredibly thankful to have a partner who values laughter as much as I do.

This friendship, even more so than with my girlfriends, has not just happened either.  It has taken hard work, tears, learning to communicate (honestly, still working on that one) and a sacrifice of self.  It has been a daily decision to remember the commitment that I made (to both God and to my husband) and then a living out of that commitment.  It hasn’t always been easy but it hasn’t always been hard either. The work that we have put into our marriage over the last 16+ years has yielded a great reward.  I get to do life and ministry with my best friend, and for this I feel incredibly blessed!

4.) Having a healthy body image.

Okay readers, this one probably took the most work and longest time to finally come by, but I did it!  It only took me almost 40 years, bahahaha.  I am such a quick learner.  Listen, before you start either hating me, fighting back jealous thoughts or just flat out suspecting me to be a liar, let me explain.  This does not mean, not even for a second, that I don’t have moments where I feel ugly, fat and downright unloveable.  I am a woman after all.  These thoughts still creep in from time to time.  What it does mean is this: I have a genuine appreciation of my body.  I am thankful for my health and a body that allows me to do the things I enjoy doing.   I am grateful to have the strength and energy to exercise, go on bike rides and hikes with my children and take my dog for a walk.

I have come to the conclusion that I will never be in as great of shape as I sometimes wish I could be because of this one simple fact: I love food.  Like, I just really enjoy food.  And over the years I’ve realized that for me,  good food > a perfect physique.  I basically work out so that I can eat and I’m totally okay with this.  I have also gotten to a point where I can look in a mirror and feel comfortable with the skin I’m in.  Those incisions across my lower abdomen remind me of the three lives I carried into this world.  The scar across my belly button and to the right of it, a reminder of God’s protection over me when my appendix burst.  The wrinkles and laugh lines, proof that I’ve savored countless happy moments with my people.

There will always be areas that we wish looked a bit differently. Perhaps a little fuller here, a little less full there.  Overall though, I am content and thankful for this body that God has given me.  Over the years the things that I once thought held such beauty have fallen away.  I used to think that a nicely toned bikini body was beautiful but now I can honestly say I don’t think there’s anything quite as beautiful as the smile that exudes from a woman who is confident in the love God has for her.

5.  The art of choosing celebration over comparison. 

Theodore Roosevelt got it right when he said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”  It’s so true. And it seems to be an area that a lot of women struggle with.  I’ll admit, it’s been a struggle for me over the years.  In a world where we are critiqued and judged for the way we look, the decisions we make regarding our parenting, our health and even our finances, it can be hard not to compare.  But one thing I’ve learned over the years is the positive effect that celebrating others has had on me personally.    

When we make the decision to celebrate others, we are also making the decision to take the focus off of ourselves.  And honestly, this is where it starts.  When our focus is on us, we find ourselves looking inward and we tend to live very small, self-absorbed lives.  When we switch that focus outward though, we are able to embrace the beauty of a spacious life.  When we understand that there is room enough for all of us to flourish, that God in his infinite wisdom has shaped each of us with unique gifts and talents that are only magnified and multiplied when celebrated collectively, we can see the distinct advantage to exchanging our comparisons for celebrations.  So go ahead, start celebrating the wins that are all around you.  You’ll find that when your win comes, you’ll be surrounded by an even larger crowd of people cheering you on!

These are a few areas that I have worked hard at over the last several years and they have been such a source of comfort to me.  In many ways, these decisions and these relationships have made me who I am today.  I am so thankful for a God who is patient with me as I learn and grow and make mistakes along the way.  I’m thankful for my husband, my family and my friends who add so much to my life!  I am praying for all of us that as we make those hard but good decisions that God will bless our efforts and that he would be our constant companion through it all.

“Find rest, Oh my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him.  He alone is my rock and my salvation.” Psalm 62:5-7

“All you need is love.  All you need is love. All you need is love, love.  Love is all you need.”

The lyrics to the Beatles’ famous song play like a soundtrack in my mind.  A classic. It’s a catchy feel good song.  Each beat like an anthem declaring itself to my heart.

Everywhere I turn lately, it’s all I hear.  Love is the answer to everything.  We are love warriors and we have hashtags stating #loveisloveislove, Madonna even chanting it at the end of her speech at a recent women’s march. “We choose LOVE! We choose Love! We choose Love!!!!” She screams this into the very same microphone that only moments before amplified her thoughts of blowing up the White House.

And I wonder….Is this really all we need? Is this the love we need? If we just chant the word enough, or if we scream it loudly from a microphone, or maybe if we hashtag it to death, will something change then?  Will the word love be enough to heal our our broken hearts? our communities? our country?

It seems as though love has taken on a loftiness about it as of late.  Tenuous in nature, it is sweeping across our nation making unsubstantiated claims.  It has become an abstract, vaporous idea that invites people to adhere their own personal definitions to it.  Suddenly, love can be whatever you’d like it to be.  And while this idea presents itself as being inclusive and freeing, I believe it does us a disservice.  How can we all claim that love is the answer when our definition of love is so vastly different from one another?

It feels to me like the word love has taken on the properties of a chameleon, changing its definition to blend into its surroundings. 

Even in Christian circles, the word love has been touted to rally people together for a cause.  And sometimes, just for personal agenda.  It has lost its meaning in a world saturated with muddied definitions. Oh, don’t get me wrong, love is really all we need.  But perhaps a clearer understanding of the word is what is really needed.  Because there is only one love that can bring true freedom and healing.

The world’s greatest love story ever told is one that includes us.  John 3:16, “For God so loved the world…” It’s in the pages of this great love story where we discover what true love really is.

The Bible tells us that love is very patient & kind. Never jealous or envious, never boastful or proud.  Never haughty or selfish or rude. Love doesn’t demand its own way.  It’s not irritable or touchy.  It does not hold grudges and will hardly even notice when others do it wrong. It is never glad about injustice, but rejoices whenever truth wins out. (1 Corinthians 13)

The Biblical definition of love is not a formless fluidity that changes its shape and meaning on a whim.  Nor is it a self-serving idea that is used to manipulate people or things to our advantage. It is not something that if we just dig deep enough into ourselves that we can unearth and it’s not something that the universe is calling us to.

Love- true authentic love, the kind that can heal individual hearts and change the landscape of a nation is…

born of human flesh, torn and bruised for us. 

It is bloodied and beaten and given freely while we are yet sinners. 

It is weighty, substantial and concrete. 

It’s a love that we can depend on.  A strong, selfless, sacrificial love that comes from God, who is himself love.

1 John 4:7 says, “Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God.”  I love how the author here uses the words continue to love.  It’s a reminder to us that it’s an ongoing process. We must continue on in the love that He gives us as we extend it to those around us. Whether we agree or disagree, we must continue to love.  Whether we are experiencing warm fuzzies or cool indifference, our call is to love.  Whether it’s to our advantage or our disadvantage, our job is to continue on in love.  So how exactly are we supposed to do this?  We can’t. Not by ourselves and not in our own strength.

It’s only through him that we can love at all.  Love doesn’t come from just chanting words or holding hands or singing a song in solidarity.  Love comes from God alone.  “Everyone who loves is born of God and experiences a relationship with God.  The person who refuses to love doesn’t know the first thing about God, because God is love- so you can’t know him if you don’t love. This is how God showed his love for us: God sent his only son into the world so that we might live through him. This is the kind of love we are talking about-not that we once upon a time loved God, but that he loved us and sent his son as a sacrifice to clear away our sins and the damage they’ve done to our relationship with God.” 1 John 4:8-10

Love is God and God is love. 

Perhaps a more fitting hashtag would be this: #loveisgodislove.

We crave love. We were designed by our Creator to crave love.  So when the word love is tossed out in a passionate speech, people cling to it like a life preserver.  We want to believe it will save us, that it will free us and that it will set everything right.   We hope and long for something like love to come along and pick up all the broken pieces and put them back together. We are desperate for love because we are desperate for God.

His love is the only love that can do all of that! His love saves, redeems, restores and frees.   It’s nothing we can muster up on our own. It’s not some lofty notion floating around in the universe.  It was birthed in the heart of God and is offered to all.  His love for you, for me, and for anyone who is willing to believe is the greatest love story ever told.   

It’s been eight years to the day that my father-in-law passed away.  And the old cliche, “time heals all wounds” this many years out, seems both true and an awful lie all at once.

The sharp pang of loss, the kind that took our breath away for days, weeks, and even months after isn’t our daily companion anymore.  We have whole blocks of time where we don’t even think of him.  But it’s never truly gone either.  It’s in hiding now, jumping out and scaring us at will.  The realness of it sometimes settling in on us again like it did the very first time.  Because there will never be another ANYTHING with him.

There are moments when I catch my husband’s eye and I can read his mind.  He’s smiling on the outside but inside he’s wishing his dad was here.  Here to listen to Levi play the trombone in his Christmas Band Concert, here to receive a homemade card from his little Hannah and here to watch Jake slowly morph into manhood.  The feelings of being robbed of something truly wonderful sets in only to be reminded of the amazing man my mother-in-law has found in the years since.  I remember being so mad back then that my kids wouldn’t have a grandpa to make memories with. This year I spent hours compiling a photo calendar that included precious memories already made with their new grandpa who loves them like they were his very own.

When we are making big life decisions, Aaron will inevitably share how he wishes his dad was here so they could talk and he could gain some wisdom.  He misses his dad’s counsel perhaps most of all.  Not that his dad would ever actually tell us what to do.  No way, that wasn’t his style.  But he would ask questions that would get us thinking and help us look at the situation from different angles so we could make the wisest, most informed choice possible. His was a subtle Jedi-mind trick type of counsel.

I remember back then (we lovingly refer to them as the “dark days”) wondering if I would ever hear my husband’s laughter again.  There was a time so dark and silent that I wasn’t sure we would be able to reach each other again.  The loss of Aaron’s dad was like an earthquake, the perceptible shaking of our world as we knew it, but the aftershocks were the hardest. The magnitude of them although smaller, were also very sporadic, making it almost impossible to prepare for.  They would come without warning and leave destruction in their wake.

As I sit here typing, my husband’s gregarious laugh, the one that is impossible to hear without immediately giving way to a smile, slowly floats up from the basement and settles quietly.  It reminds me that our grief, although not gone, is allowing us to breathe these days.  Just last week, as Aaron was making lefse (a tradition passed down from his father) we locked eyes. Mine quickly clouded with tears as we both felt the loss of his presence in a more tangible way in that moment.

And so, although time has caused a gashing wound to be covered with a layer of love, the wound itself is still there, underneath.  It more closely resembles a scar now, reminding us of the love we shared, the pain we endured & the hope we have in Christ to be reunited again one day.

Here’s to the all the wide open, gashing wounds out there, to the scars, and to those on their journey towards becoming a scar.  Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” May you know today that God is with you in your brokenness and that he alone has the power to save you.

I’m weary.

Maybe you feel it too?

A heaviness from life’s struggles and unmet expectations covers me like a weighted blanket.   Residue from hurt and pain over the past year lingers and makes a case for me to climb up under the covers and never come out.  I’m tired.  And maybe a little sad.  And admitting it only seems to add shame to the mix.

But I also have joy.  Not a warm, fuzzy, happy feeling dripping with sentiment, but a settled assurance, a quiet confidence and a determined choice.  

Pastor Dave shared a biblical definition of the word joy in his sermon a couple weeks ago.  It’s from Kay Warren’s book, “Choose Joy Because Happiness Isn’t Enough.” In it she says joy is, “The settled assurance that God is in control of all the details of my life, the quiet confidence that ultimately everything is going to be alright, and the determined choice to praise God in every situation.”  I have gone back to this over and over again during the past couple of weeks.

I grew up believing joy was a feeling.  I’m wired in a way in which I feel “all the feels” so joy has been something that somewhat eludes me. And yet the Bible talks about the joy of the Lord being our strength so I felt this inner struggle to be feeling joyful all the time when in reality, I just wasn’t. I was missing something though, I was basing it on a feeling when really it’s a decision.  A decision that each of us gets to make.

We all know feelings come and go but joy…

it can remain.

Joy is steadfast, not dependent on any factor other than the decision we make to have it.

Joy doesn’t depend upon my feelings or my circumstances.  It won’t leave me today because I’m feeling weary and sad.  The characteristics of joy are unmoving, solid, settled & determined.  None of these random fluctuating feelings, but instead an anchor for our souls. It’s something we choose not something we feel.

That’s why today, even though I am weary, I will choose joy.  As I make that decision my feelings might fall more into line with a happy disposition.  And they might not.  Regardless, I am reminding myself that God is in control of the details of my life and that ultimately everything is going to be okay because he is my Emmanuel, he is with me.  Whatever I go through, whatever life throws at me, he is by my side, walking through it with me. I’m going to praise him in every situation.  I’m going to choose joy. 

Today I am weary, a little sad and joyful….all at once.

I love getting gifts.  Some of my favorite gifts to get are little things that don’t cost very much money but that I rarely buy for myself. A magazine on fashion or decorating, a bottle of new nail polish or a new Starbucks mug from their “You Are Here” series.

But to tell the truth, what I love almost as much as the gift itself is the way it’s packaged.  I love things that are presented beautifully and lovingly. That can mean a simple piece of twine wrapped around a magazine or a cute little chalkboard tag attached to it.  One of my favorite gifts I ever received was packaged in a brown paper sack, threaded at the top with some twine and tied into a tidy little bow. Inside was tea, a bag of fresh cherries & some chocolate.  It was so simple and so thoughtful.

“Brown paper packages tied up with strings, these are a few of my favorite things…”

As Christians, we have the greatest gift ever! We have the truth of who God is.  Unfortunately we sometimes miss the mark with our packaging and our delivery.  I’m not saying that anything needs to be added to the message of the cross.  The truth of who God is and His redemptive work on the cross stands on its own.  It’s not about adding to the gift, it’s about caring enough to make sure the gift is presented in a way that lines up with the value we have placed upon it.  Ensuring the authenticity of our gift speaks to the value we have placed on it.

Sometimes we forget that the way in which we deliver things can be as important as the thing we are trying to deliver. 

When we were in Florida this past spring we bought a Christmas ornament from Magic Kingdom.   We have a tradition where we collect Christmas ornaments from our family vacations.  I loved this ornament and I wanted it to get home in one piece so we took extra safety precautions to make sure that happened.  We wrapped it several times in thick paper, tucked it neatly inside a small box, and then surrounded the box with more padding.  We thought about putting it in our suitcase but then decided we weren’t sure we trusted the airlines to be gentle with it. (So untrusting of us, I know.)  We placed the carefully wrapped package in Aaron’s carry-on so that we could ensure its safe return. We cared enough to put extra time and love into getting it home in one piece.

But what if we had gone through all the trouble of wrapping and packaging only to get home and realize there was nothing in the box?  It sounds ridiculous but that’s what happens when we forego truth, it’s nothing but pretty packaging. It lacks substance.

Jesus was such a great example to us of truth wrapped in love.  He walked this earth showing love to everyone without abandoning the truth.  In dealing with the woman caught in adultery Jesus showed compassion towards her and caused her accusers to leave. LOVE  But then he followed it with these instructions, “Go and sin no more.” TRUTH

Truth & love do their best work when they coexist together.

So why is it that we tend to polarize the two, feeling the need to pick between the side of truth or the side of love? When we choose truth at the expense of love we ostracize people.  When we choose love at the expense of truth we omit God’s word.

Truth and love don’t have to live independent of each other, but so often lately in our culture they do.  We regard them as points on a continuum, truth at one end, love at the other.  They wave to each other from across the distance but never dare to come together for fear that joining forces will somehow chip away at their individual importance.  But that’s not what Jesus modeled for us.  In fact, scripture tells us that our maturity depends on both. 

Ephesians 4:15  “Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is Christ.”

“The Bible tells us that truth is that which is consistent with the mind, will, character, glory and being of God.  Truth is not subjective, it is not a consensual cultural construct, and it is not an invalid outdated, irrelevant concept.  Truth is the self-expression of God.” (Taken from the Truth War, by John MacArthur).

The Holy Spirit guides us into truth.  John 16:13 says, “But when He, the Spirit of Truth comes, He will guide you into all the truth (full and complete truth).  For He will not speak on his own initiative, but He will speak whatever He hears (from the Father-the message regarding the Son), and He will disclose to you what is to come.”

My prayer for all of us, myself included, is that we would learn to embrace both the truth (the full and complete truth) and the love of the Father, Son & Holy Spirit. That we wouldn’t be tempted to pick up one without the other.  My prayer is that we would fully embrace the truth and take the time to wrap it up in the love of Jesus Christ as we offer it to each other and to a world in desperate need of Him.

A couple of weekends ago we traveled up north to our old stomping grounds of Hibbing, MN. As soon as we turned onto Hwy. 53 a receiving line of pine trees appeared and welcomed us, gently guiding us north toward our destination.  If there is a stretch of road that holds more memories for my husband & I than this, I am unaware of it. The 30 plus mile stretch would tell stories of two young kids heading off to their first ministry position together, it would tell of trips to Duluth for the sole purpose of a single cup of Starbuck’s coffee & it would smile and sigh as it recounted it all, fond memories of days gone by.

I had forgotten about the air up north, how when you breath you take in the heavy scent of pine.  I had forgotten how the shades of green from the pines and poplars mix together to form a brilliant new color. Somehow I had forgotten about the golden glow that covers it all as the evening sun sets.  I forgot how dark it gets up there, the sky turning ten shades darker than any night sky back home.  The thick blanket of darkness overhead becoming the perfect backdrop to offset the tiny glowing lights of the Big Dipper and the rest of the constellations.

When gazing at the night sky that weekend I felt smaller but somehow no less significant.  As if the twinkling lights that dotted the darkness pointed to my, to our, innate worth. They hung there suspended above as a reminder that we all have our own unique light to add. And when we do, it only enhances the overall beauty. 

And while I spent the weekend taking in all the raw beauty that nature was extending to me, I  was surprised to discover some of the most spectacular sights nestled into a rather odd place: an old mine dump.

Let me explain.

Hibbing is part of a group of towns in northern Minnesota referred to as the Iron Range.  The town essentially exists because of the iron ore mines located there.  We loaded the kids up in the car and made a stop at the Hull Rust Mine on the outskirts of town, a place where when you first pull up you could almost mistake it for a scenic overlook somewhere out west.  It’s a huge pit that encompasses miles and miles of iron ore and the enormous trucks needed to transport it.  The crew works different areas at a time, mining for the iron ore. Once they have gotten all of the ore from the ground, the leftovers, called tailings, are loaded into one of the huge trucks and then dumped in a designated location. There are enormous mountains of these tailings. Piles and piles of this rusty red colored rock, stacked high and wide.

And as I stood there staring out at the tailings, I couldn’t help but make a connection between those jagged red stones and my own life. Basically the tailings are the leftovers, the residue. My mistakes, disappointments and failures taking on the shape of a pile of rusty colored rocks. Sometimes it’s hard not to look at those piles and think “What a waste.” The tailings, like my own pile of regret, lay there taking up space. All of the valuable fractions of the stone have already been extracted, this is in essence a pile of leftovers.  It’s hard sometimes to not look at our tailings and wish them away.  It’s easy to think they don’t have anything to add anymore.  But I have to tell you, as I  stood at that pit and took it all in, I realized the tailings only enhanced the beauty.  They added a certain color and form to the landscape that made it all the more impressive.

Often times, the broken, ragged pieces of our lives add the depth and dimension to our picture that the smooth & painless times never could. 

When we give God our mistakes, disappointments & failures we can learn to walk through those tough times with humility and a willingness to learn.  We can learn to narrow our focus on what God wants to teach us through it.  We can come through the other side with a sense of gratefulness for the growth instead of a sense of bitterness from the blow. And when we learn to do that, we can look at our pile with a new perspective and find that grace has painted those those red rocks into our landscape and sometimes, the breathtaking detail of those broken and jagged pieces can become some of the most exquisite points on our canvas.

Today, if you’re going through something hard or you’re dwelling on a past mistake or hurt, allow God to show you a detail about it that you might be missing. Allow Him to use all of your experiences, tailings included, to paint a picture that only He can.  Trust his hand, his heart & his timing for your life.  And know that “He has made everything fit beautifully in its appropriate time.” Ecclesiastes 3:11

I have made it almost 4 decades without the date July 16th evoking any real emotion in me.  But this year  there is a somber angst in my soul. This year, the anniversary of the Vel d’Hiv Roundup haunts me like a heavy regret. I find myself staring at black and white photographs of people being dragged from their homes, corralled like cattle into buses that would land them, along with thousands of other innocent
victims, imprisoned in the Velodrome for the next week with very little food or water and without lavatories.

As I sit here researching pictures and articles depicting some of France’s darkest times, I am astonished and embarrassed by my lack of knowledge of what took place on those hot July days some 74 years ago in Paris. Just blocks away from the towering majesty and watchful eye of the Eiffel Tower lays a plot of land that if it could talk, would tell secrets of mankind’s ability to dehumanize and to hate.  It would whisper dark horrors in the still of night, the kind that make you long to wake-up and realize with acute relief that it was all just a dream.  The kind that begs your heart to slow its beat and causes you to check in on loved ones.

The Velodrome d’Hiver (Winter Velodrome) also known as the Vel d’Hiv, once an indoor cycling track hosting bike enthusiasts, became a place of imprisonment and isolation as French policeman rounded up close to 11,000 Jews that first day. Children between the ages of 2-16, along with their parents, were arrested and dragged from their homes. The twisted irony being that although many Jews had been forewarned of the danger, they believed the deportation would target only men, as it had in the past.  Consequently, the women and children did not go into hiding.  This made “Operation Spring Breeze,” the repulsing code name for this cruel and inhumane act, a success. In the course of two days, over 13,000 Jews were arrested and held captive in the Velodrome.

In the week following the arrests, Jews were taken from the Velodrome to the concentration camps of Pithiviers, Beaune-la-Rolande and Drancy. At the end of July and beginning of August, the Jews being held in these camps were separated from their children and deported. Mothers clung to their children, holding on in desperation as police officers ripped them from their grasp. Mental pictures were taken as parents and children alike tried to sear their loved one’s faces into their memories.  For many, this was the last time they would ever see their family again.

Before deportation, each prisoner’s head was shaved and his or her body subjected to a violent search, thereby stripping them not only of their hair and clothing, but also of their dignity.  By the end of September 1942, almost 38,000 Jews had been deported to Auschwitz from France. In 1945, only around 780 of them remained alive.

And of course this is only one sliver in the overall story of the Holocaust.  So many lives were lost, so many futures cut short.  And my heart implores my mind to make sense of it all. I try to come up with something to make the gnawing sick feeling in my gut go away.  I wrestle with questions that have no answers.

What I do believe is this: It matters deeply that we care.

It matters that I feel sick to my stomach over it and that I talk to my children about what happened on this fateful day.  It matters that we take time to remember. To wrestle with our grief, our pain and our loss. When we are able to connect our pain and loss to someone else’s our hearts become entangled as well. And it’s nearly impossible to hate someone you have let into your heart.

It seems so simple. Little. And not near enough.  When in truth, it’s the biggest, bravest thing we can do.

We can care. We can love. And we can never forget.

I recently had the opportunity to write for a blog called the Mudroom.  I love their tagline, “The Mudroom is a place for the stories emerging in the midst of the mess.” And that’s exactly what life is, our stories emerging in the midst of the mess. Because let’s face it, life is nothing if not messy.

Love is something that can be hard and messy at times too.  It’s like a banged up, bruised up family heirloom that holds all of our secrets.  We cling to it throughout the years, knowing that even with all of its faults, it holds immense value to us.

“Old love carries our disappointments, pain, and failures together in the same tender hands that hold our memories, laughter and dreams. Amazingly, it’s in the compilation of them where we discover the deepest, strongest roots of love.”

To read the rest of my post and check out their blog, head over to The Mudroom.

I woke up this morning to a chorus of birds singing outside my bedroom window. I love mornings that greet you with sunshine and the smell of freshly cut grass. It just seems like everything is setting you up to have a wonderful day.

It’s my favorite time of year, when the back door that opens up onto our enclosed porch stays open all day, inviting people and sunshine alike to come on in and put their feet up for a while. It’s the time of year when the outdoors makes its way indoors and we are all the better for it.

If you’re looking for a few quick tips to help bring that outdoor look and feel indoors to your decorating, let me help! Here are a few quick and inexpensive spring decorating tips to update your decor.

1. Add the Color Green.

It really doesn’t matter whether it’s a pop of green in a new throw pillow for your couch, or a plant or some fresh limes thrown into a clear vase. The color green will make your space feel fresh and spring-like.  One of my favorite things as of late are boxwood wreaths. They are SO beautiful!!! I recently purchased one online at Target that I wanted to place in the middle of an old wooden door that I have hanging on my living room wall.  When it arrived however, I realized it was too small for the size of the door. So, I bought an adorable white wreath hanger and hung it on there. It adds a perfect splash of color and was pretty inexpensive. The best part is, the wreath hanger can actually be used for a number of other things as well. So, as the seasons change I can take the wreath off and add other things (pinecone wreath at Christmas?) or even use it as a clip to display pictures or pieces of art.

2.  Add a Terrarium.

So…I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not (you’d probably have to be either hiding under a rock or possibly just a mother of really young kids who hasn’t made it into Target for a loooong while now) but…terrariums are SO IN! I found mine for 40% off at JoAnn’s.  Now, here’s another piece of advice. NEVER BUY FULL PRICE AT JOANN’S. There is just really no reason to. They always have coupons & always have store sales. Many times they have a 40% off any one regularly priced item coupon. So, check the ad or better yet just download the app and you can access your coupons from there.

Terrariums have the added decor benefit of bringing some geometric shape to your space. And whether your design is modern, shabby chic or traditional, geometric shapes can be added to it and will freshen up your space.  Throw some moss (green!) into it and you have a great piece to display on your kitchen or living room table. My terrarium is a little smaller so I added it to a serving tray I already had (also found at JoAnn’s, clearanced out) and then added a few old books (you can add color this way too) tied together with some string or twine. I had a tiny little porcelain white bird that I added to the top of my books and done! So cute and easy and you can make your own little vignette by using what you already have laying around the house.

3. Pick some Flowers.

This is a pretty simple one. Most of us have some sort of flower or bush in our backyard that we can pick from. So grab a vase or other fun container (Mason jars!!!) and see how creative you can be. If you are lucky enough to have a lilac bush near you, then you’ve got it made. Like seriously, Martha Stewart’s got nothing on you. Adding a bouquet of lilacs to any room is an instant makeover. And the smell….oh my! They are really just one of God’s greatest creations. So venture into your backyard and see what you can find.

Another great way to display your flowers is by setting them up a bit higher. Whether that’s on an old book or some smaller piece of wood, it elevates them and gives them a place of prominence in your house. Several years ago we had an old birch tree in our backyard cut down. I was sad (husband’s idea, not mine) and I was lamenting this fact until I realized that I could bring a piece of that old tree inside. So, I had my husband cut several pieces a couple of inches thick and I use them to display all kinds of stuff. It is a virtual staple on my kitchen table and holds everything from little sugar canisters, to my essential oil bottles to flowers. It all just looks prettier on my birch wood! 

Hope this inspired you to get a little creative in your spring decor!  I’d love to hear from you about what you do to get your home ready for spring by leaving a comment below.

The seasons of our lives are ever changing.  Some of them come and go on a rather consistent schedule, ready to usher us into the next stage. But then there are other times, times when we’ve been stuck for so long in the same spot, times when winter seems to be the only season we’ve ever known and we begin to lose hope of ever seeing green ground again.

In expectation of what was coming, we did our best to prepare for it. We dressed ourselves in winter parkas, donned our fur lined boots, pulled tight the drawstring of our hoods under our chins, and slipped into our wool mittens.  We settled in for a long, cold winter and lost all hope of spring.

But have we missed the signs of a new season approaching? Do we need to get up off of the couch and press our faces to the window once again? Will we still see snow or will we by faith believe there are tiny green shoots getting ready to push through the ground?

During the cold we layered to protect ourselves from the elements but now we realize that we’ve also layered over our hearts. Maybe a bit too much? We have unknowingly suffocated our heart with layers of doubt and unbelief. Layers that were initially put on to protect us have now paralyzed us.

And God is whispering to us to take off the layers.

He is declaring it spring and asking us to dress the part. It’s time to shed the layers of the past and get ready for what’s coming. He’s wanting to exchange our heavy winter boots for a pair of summer sandals, our disappointments for his hope. 

I’m in a bit of a change of seasons myself lately.  It almost feels as if things are shriveling up and dying to make room for new growth. Tiny green buds are starting to poke through and as beautiful as they are, they are also a bit startling. Like the whiteness of my legs after a long winter. But just because it’s a bit surprising or shocking to us, doesn’t mean it wasn’t part of His plan all along.

The very definition of season is a time characterized by a particular circumstance or feature. And it’s as if God is whispering to us that those circumstances of the past aren’t going to mark us anymore. The season we were once stuck in isn’t going to define who we are.  He’s leading us into a new time, a new season that has its own unique features, if we will just learn to let go and trust Him.

Seasons are just that, seasons. And no season was meant to last forever. So if you’ve been stuck in a season of your life for a long time now, maybe it’s time to believe by faith that your new season is coming. It might be time to start dreaming about what that will look like, to start prepping your heart for what’s ahead. Perhaps you need to walk to the window, press your face hard against the glass and ask God to give you eyes to see what’s really going on. The last time you checked, it was still winter out there. But maybe, just maybe, this time when you look you’ll see signs of spring.

Wash me.

From my past and all of its hold over me.  The poor choices I have made and the harmful acts that have been done unto me.  This pain and this heavy shame, that roll in like ocean tide, knocking me off my feet and leaving me catching my breath.

Save me. Make me. 

White again. Cleansed again. Whole again.

For I believe that the act of one man set into motion a Wash Cycle for all mankind. 

His death on a cross for me, for you…was an act of washing. Of setting us free.

What can wash away my sin?

nothing but the blood of Jesus.

What can make me whole again?

nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Nothing can for sin atone, 

nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Naught of good that I have done, 

nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Nothing but….nothing other than… ONLY

the precious blood of Jesus.

Only through the washing and yet everything gets included under the washing.

Every mistake. Every sin. Every prideful attempt. Every hurt. Every loss.

Everything we bring to Him.

We are washed by a blood that makes all things new again.  A washing process that scrubs out our stains and leaves us white, clean & whole.  He takes us, our dirty rags and all and he soaks us in His grace. We are tossed and turned and sometimes we wrestle in the wash, feeling the full weight of our desperate need for a Savior.  But then He gently rinses us off, removing all traces of our muck and our dirt and He sets us apart.  We are clean. We are made right with God. We are saved.

Saved from ourselves, from our sin and from eternal separation from God.

We have been made righteous by his blood.

This is all my hope & peace, 

nothing but the blood of Jesus.

This is all my righteousness, 

nothing but the blood of Jesus. 

Oh, precious is the flow

that makes me white as snow;

No other found I know,

nothing but the blood of Jesus. 

I L-OOOOVE decorating.

It’s something that really gets my artsy vein pumping. I have a hard time leaving my furniture in the same spot for very long, I
like to switch things out and rearrange them.  Most of my time spent sitting on the couch in my living room involves dreaming of the perfect piece to add:  a seasonal decor item, something from the new Target line that whispers sweet nothings in my ear or that appliquéd pillow with just the right POP of color.  Then I’ll start daydreaming  about that old slab of wood lying in my garage that is just begging me to do something with it. Paint me, put some cool knobs on me, cover me with chalk paint. Do something to me!!!

I’m drawn to things like old wooden ladders, cotton branches, painted furniture, chalkboards & olive buckets. They seriously make me happy!! Recently I’ve discovered that most of the things in life that I enjoy and am drawn to, leave me holding this one word: beauty.

It seems to be the common denominator.  I love to express beauty in my writing, in my home decor, in my friendships, my wardrobe and even my cooking.  But for so long I feel like I’ve shied away from vocalizing these thoughts and feelings. Feeling mildly ashamed and thinking in my head that somehow it’s shallow of me. That it’s shallow to want to make things beautiful.  After all, there’s a hurt and aching world out there, surely there must be a higher calling than just wanting to make things beautiful.  When spoken out loud it seems so Superficial. Like an ugly stepsister to Shallow and I don’t want to be related to either one of them.

And yet…  Jesus was all about bringing beauty to this world.  From Creation to the grave. Even his blood stained hands reflect the beauty of his unfathomable love for us.

Proof that beauty can be a marker of love. 

I’ve been following this idea around lately, this idea that even the everyday physical can be spiritual.

The belief that God can take my offering, my life, my work and make it a spiritual act with spiritual significance. 

And this idea itself is something beautiful.

Our physical acts become spiritual when done with love. Sometimes the most spiritual things we do are physical acts. The dinner we cook for our family after a long day, the note we drop in the mail to encourage a friend, the laundry we do in the wee hours of the night so our kids can wear their favorite sweatshirt to school the next day. These are all physical acts that when done in love, reveal beauty.

Love produces beauty. It always will. 

Because it’s beautiful to cook a meal for your family after you’ve worked hard all day and are bone tired. It’s beautiful to celebrate and encourage friends. It’s downright gorgeous to give yourself more laundry just because little miss wants to wear her favorite shirt tomorrow.

It can literally change your life when you believe that the mundane things you do during the day can have a spiritual significance. And I know, oh I know all too well ladies, that it’s hard to feel the weight of our significance while slathering peanut butter on bread in the morning for the kid who just realized school hot lunch was sloppy joe’s.  I realize that much of what we do feels oh so physical and not at all spiritual.

But I would gently remind  you of the same thing we whisper into our kids’ ears from time to time, “Just because you FEEL something, doesn’t make it TRUE.” 

We have to constantly remind ourselves of truth. And here’s a truth for you:Love paints a beautiful picture. Love is what makes the mundane act of making a child’s lunch beautiful.  Love is what gets us through a tough day of parenting only to be reminded at tuck in time what a blessing that strong-willed child is. The brushstrokes of love cover our days, gently blending in the rough edges of life and leaving us with our own masterpiece, one that is nothing short of breathtaking.

We’re all trying to make life more beautiful. I believe it’s something God places inside of us,  the desire to create, to make things beautiful. And whether that’s a song that is composed or a cozy living room that has been designed, beauty is revealed.  As we do our best to bring our own unique slice of beauty to this world we are reminded that the most beautiful act ever performed was by God. The act of sending his own son to this world to die on a cross for our sins, is by far the most amazing example of a physical act becoming spiritual.  There’s nothing that compares with the beauty of his blood stained hands that were nailed to the old rugged cross.

Love produces beauty, it always will.

I don’t know if you’re anything like me but sometimes I can get really down on myself about my parenting skills (or lack thereof.) I’m constantly worried that I’m not saying the right words, at the right time, with the right balance between love & discipline. It’s enough to drive a person crazy!

This last week the flu hit me hard and nailed me down to the couch the better part of the week. It just so happens that it was the same week my husband was scheduled to be out of town for a conference and I was feeling uber mama guilt for being sick. As if I really had any choice in the matter. It’s not like I raised my hand and volunteered. “Pick me! Please pick me to be sick!”  But I felt guilty anyways. You get it, I know you do.

As the week drug on and my strength drained out, the only adulting taking place was from that of my oldest son Jacob. As the dishes piled high, so did my guilt.  And trying to rid myself of it was about as useless as trying to scrub a greasy, baked on pan without soaking it first.

Staring at my life from a horizontal perspective at first made me feel frustrated. I felt bad I was asking more of the kids and offering less of myself. I was frustrated the kids’ favorite meals and board games I had planned to fill our week had suddenly been exchanged for scrounging the fridge for leftovers and mindless tv watching.

But gradually, as the dishes were being cleared from the living room (where we ate “dinner” every night), and my water bottle was being replenished, as the dishwasher was being filled and ran, the medicine was being administered and the blankets were being tucked in around me….I began to see what was really going on.  My kids were stepping up and doing what needed to be done.  They were…*gasp* being responsible!

Why is it we work so hard to raise kind and responsible kids only to be surprised when they actually display some of these characteristics?

As I eventually learned to let go of the guilt and embrace the fact that I was going to have to rely on my children, I let myself enjoy some of the pampering. Parenting is such an enormous task, it really is. And sometimes the day to day mundane tasks can blur the image of what is really taking place.  Because when I sat back and really watched my kids, this is what I saw: I saw Jacob taking the initiative to clean up, I saw Levi sharing his blanket with me as we snuggled,  I saw Hannah and Levi at the end of the couch doing their reading minutes together. I heard Jacob instructing the younger two in the morning, getting them off to school with all their belongings, I heard their love for me and their faith in a God that heals as they prayed over me. Each day as they returned home, they would all check in with me to see how I was doing, seeing if I felt any better. Love. Care. Initiative. Responsibility. Prayer.

And I’m not sure I would’ve seen all of that that had I been healthy.  So sometimes, when we just can’t change our circumstances, the best thing we can do is to embrace them.  To look for the good from our particular vantage point, whatever that might be. And to take a moment and embrace the beauty that is there already. Because even in the mundane, there is still beauty to behold.

“It’s just a box. A plain old box.”

The words that ran around in my head all morning upon the realization that my daughter was taking an undecorated shoe box to school for her Valentine’s container.

I tried my best to shove all the crazy down. You know, the crazy that makes you start asking yourself all kinds of questions. Questions like: Will people think I’m a deadbeat mom because of this? Will other kids laugh at her because it’s not decorated?  And then of course on the heels of guilt for me is always lots of excuses. So, I started in: Well, she took a shoe box because I didn’t have enough time. I had to work all day yesterday, I had to get my husband and sons ready for their weekend getaway. There were conferences this week and small group leader’s meetings to host and on and on….

In the middle of my crazy I caught a glimpse of my daughter sitting at the counter eating her breakfast, smiling, happy & content. So I asked her, “Do you want to add anything to your box?” She just glanced up at me and said, “No mom, I think it looks great. It’s just a box, but it’s a pretty one.”

I looked at the box again and thought “She’s right. It is kind of pretty.”

“It doesn’t really matter what the outside looks like anyways, all the goodies go inside.”

She’s right of course. The outside isn’t what matters most. It’s the stuff inside.

We spend so much time and energy making things appear beautiful on the outside when all the while God is whispering to our hearts that his desire is for us to beautify our insides. And one of the best ways to do this is by simply loving others. John 13:35 says, “Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.”

Our love for one another is the thing that will prove to the world that we are His.

As I scrolled through my FB feed this morning I saw pictures of some pretty amazing Valentine’s boxes. Time was taken, thought was put into them, love was given. My dear friend Sarah spent her late night hours finishing an act of love her daughter Olivia started that included homemade loom bracelets and perler bead crafts, each in the favorite colors of her classmates. Unfortunately Olivia got sick and wasn’t able to finish them all, so mom stepped in to help.  And I contend that this, this small act of love, is what shouts to our world that we are Christ followers.

Because truth be told, the perler beads and the loom bracelets aren’t what matters. What makes all the difference is love. The love behind the idea to make something special for all of her classmates and the love behind a mom staying up late to accomplish it.

A box can be just a box…if there isn’t any love attached to it. And a loom bracelet is just a loom bracelet, without a mother’s love tied to it.

Which also means that my daughter’s plain old shoe box, when carrying the names of her classmates written with love, is so much MORE than just a plain old shoe box. 

Because love is what makes all the difference. His love for us should be the driving force behind our love for others. So, this Valentine’s weekend let’s make an effort to love well.  It doesn’t matter so much the details involved as it does the love behind it. Let’s do what Pastor Dave shared about last weekend in church, let’s be people who love well over time.  Love: It’s what makes all the difference. 

Don’t do it.

I know it’s tempting but don’t.

Christmas is over,  New Year’s Day has come and gone.  All of the lights, the tinsel, the cranberries and the pine boughs that have decorated your house for the past month or two suddenly feels like a relative that has overstayed their welcome. It’s time to pack it up and head out.

Sure, it may be time to put away your decorations but this is no time to pack up your Hope with your Christmas bulbs.

It’s time to pull out the oversized plastic bins labeled ‘Christmas Decor’ and throw everything haphazardly inside. At times cramming things in, hoping that when we open it again next year nothing will be smashed or broken.  ChristmasTIME  has expired and this stuff has to go. If we have to employ the power of our bottom end to add some force to the cover, then so be it.  I haven’t met a lid yet that my rear end couldn’t close.

Of course there are those of you who start out a little different. You are careful to pull out the bins, organize as you go, wrap each bulb carefully in tissue paper and then gently place them in their own individual containers.  You take each strand of lights & wrap them carefully so that next year they will roll off the line without any tangles or knots. But even the majority of you that start off like this will eventually join the ranks of us that stoop to whatever measure is necessary. It’s just a matter of time.

So go ahead and pack up your Christmas leftovers, just don’t pack up all the Hope you’ve been collecting over the past month. 

There’s something magical about the Christmas season. It ignites our hearts with love and hope. We start believing again that there’s hope….hope for that strained relationship to be restored. Hope that we can be the kind of parent, spouse & friend that we desire to be. Hope that we can learn to live our lives with a little more grace for ourselves and for others.  Hope that this world really can change with a simple, small act of love.

After all, that’s what the Christmas story reminds us of…that baby Jesus (our simple small act of love) changes our world and brings us hope throughout the year.

So don’t store it away until next year.  Hope is not a seasonal item. 

Go ahead and display it. Make a place for it in your home and in your heart. Carry it with you. May it be your constant companion on all this coming year has in store for you.

I hate being misunderstood.

Lately I’ve discovered it’s something that I really struggle with. It frustrates me. I don’t like it when people only see or hear a “snippet” of something and then draw a biased conclusion based upon it.  It makes my inner person want to stand up and scream, “That’s not fair!!!”  I want to explain myself & let them hear my side of the story. I want to defend myself. As my husband would say, “Kitchen Jessica” would make an appearance. (This is the name he has given me for those times when I just have to get something off my chest, set the record straight and unleash all my big feelings on him…and usually this takes place in the kitchen.)

Throughout this past year, I have found myself having this feeling often.  It’s my constant companion,  bubbling just under the surface. This desire to defend.

The problem lies when I want to defend but I know that it’s not what God wants me to do.  Sometimes (probably most times) I think God just wants me to turn to him, trust him, leave the defending to him.

This is something that I really admire about Mary, the mother of Jesus.  She had an unwavering trust in God to place her honor and reputation in his hands. If anyone can relate to being misunderstood, or misrepresented, it’s her.  One minute she’s a virgin pledged to be married and the next she’s pregnant with the Son of God.  Suddenly her life is turned upside down and she’s marked with misunderstandings. People whispering behind her back about who the father might be. Speculation as to her virtue.  Snide remarks and pious gazes following her around wherever she went.

If I were Mary, I’d wanna yell it from the rooftops, set the record straight: “Listen, this isn’t what it looks like!”  I’d want to kick into defense mode. Kitchen Jessica would have a few choice words.

But here’s Mary’s response:

“Yes, I see it all now. I’m the Lord’s maid, ready to serve. Let it be with me just as you say.”

She doesn’t turn into “Kitchen Mary” and start complaining about how people will misunderstand her and what a scandal this will be for her. She doesn’t stomp her feet and unleash all her big feelings everywhere. She just trusts.

And this act of trust is simple and it’s beautiful. But it’s also so very powerful.

While reading, I noticed the way in which the angel Gabriel greets her in such a personal and encouraging way. He doesn’t just jump right in with the big news. He starts off with this:

“Good morning! You’re beautiful with God’s beauty, beautiful inside and out! God be with you.”

Can you imagine receiving that kind of greeting? It kind of takes the edge off of having an angel appear unannounced at your door. These words set the tone for the rest of their conversation.  I find it very telling that these are the first words that God chooses to have Gabriel speak to Mary. As a woman, this greeting chips away at my defensive parts and leaves me raw and vulnerable. It’s more than a greeting, it’s a declaration really. A declaration of identity and of love.

When we are secure in our identity in Christ and reminded of his love, we lose our desire to defend ourselves.

The strong desire to defend loosens its grip on us and we are free to exchange our defending for resting. My prayer today is that when we sense that intense desire to defend we are reminded to first turn to God and allow him to speak a declaration of love and identity over us.  And as we allow that truth to settle on us, may we choose to rest in him.

Psalm 62:5-8

Yes, my soul, find rest in God;
my hope comes from him.
Truly he is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
My salvation and my honor depend on God[c];
he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

Trust in him at all times, you people;
pour out your hearts to him,
for God is our refuge.

It seems as if everywhere I turn lately I see it.

Taking on different forms and different names, but I see it just the same. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of it head on, other times a peripheral vision of it. At other times I can feel it, sneaking up on me.  It taps me on the shoulder and then runs and hides. Like a young friend initiating a game with me. Except it’s a game that I don’t want to play and it is no friend of mine.

It sits in the waiting room of the doctor’s office,  lounges on the couch in the family room, waits in line at the grocery store and even makes an appearance on the evening news. It’s no respecter of age, race or religion.  It’s a world traveler in many regards.

Following the tracks it leaves behind would lead you to a fracture point.  A beginning point, however small, of where it all began.

Brokenness.

It surrounds us.

I saw it on the images that plastered my television screen last night. I saw it in the face of a man who lost multiple friends  & coworkers in California yesterday. I don’t know him. I have never even seen his face before,  but it didn’t feel distant or removed. It felt real and honest and incredibly close.

I hear it in the conversations I have with friends struggling with issues in their parenting, their marriages, their friendships.  Real issues that have them barely holding on, struggling with decisions and wrestling with their faith.

I felt the sting of it as I cried with my childhood friend on the phone last night whose dad lost his battle with cancer yesterday afternoon. She has lost both her parents to cancer in less than 2 years. She’s 38, the same age as me, and  I cannot imagine walking through life at this age without either of my parents.

I saw it in the eyes of my oldest son last night as he shared his heart with me about a friend whose family is going through a divorce. He’s scared of it, the brokenness.

Aren’t we all?

It can be so very real and so very heavy.
And it likes to tell us stories. It spins tall tales of how we are alone in our brokenness. Of how nobody else can understand what we’re going through. It seeks to isolate. It whispers that we are not enough, that we are failures and unloveable. It seeks to seize us with fear. It paints a picture so bleak we are unable to see past it. It has an uncanny ability to cloud our perspective and cast shadows of doubt over us.  It wants to paint everything in a template of grey and gloom. It seeks to fill our hearts with despair and depression. 

But what if the word brokenness had multiple meanings? What if brokenness also meant invitation? An invitation to share our brokenness.

Our brokenness shows us our need. A need we all have.  A need for mending, for reconciliation, for redemption.  A need that points us to our Savior,  Emmanuel,  God with us. A love that came down from heaven and took on the form of a baby that he might be, in every sense of the word, our Emmanuel.

The light that is shed on our brokenness points us to the Light that if we follow, will lead us through the darkness. It will lead us through and out. It will lead us to a place where the brokenness is displaced, expelled by the Love, the Light of the World that came down for us.

And as we are vulnerable about our brokenness we have the unique ability to share the hope we have with a lost and hurting world. This Christmas season let’s be honest and vulnerable.  Let’s be willing to meet people in the middle of their brokenness and share ours with them as well.   Let’s also point them towards the hope that we have in our Savior, in baby Jesus, in our Emmanuel God with us. Let’s let our brokenness lead the way to our redemption.

We went to an apple orchard a few weeks back and came home with a bounty of delicious apples of all sizes & varieties. The honey crisp apples were some of largest apples I have ever laid eyes on but I also discovered my new favorite eating apple there, the Liberty apple.

We have been having apples as snack for weeks now.  We’ve had sliced apples on their own, dipped in peanut butter,  slathered in homemade caramel dip, apple crisp and apple pie.  I won a dehydrator off of a local auction site (the extent of my excitement over this was somewhat embarrassing) and set off to make some apple chips.

During my apple binge I discovered a great recipe for apple crisp. It’s a little different than the normal recipe but it’s delicious. It’s from “A Taste of the Country” Seventh Edition.

Apple Crisp

1 c. flour

3/4 c. rolled oats

1 c. brown sugar

1/2 c. butter, softened

4 c. chopped & peeled apples

1 c. sugar

2 T. cornstarch

1 c. water

1 t. vanilla extract

Vanilla ice cream, optional (not really)

Directions:

In a mixing bowl, combine first four ingredients. Cut in butter until crumbly. Press half into a greased 2-1/2 qt. baking dish or a 9-in. square baking pan. Cover with apples. In a saucepan, combine sugar, cornstarch, water and vanilla; cook and stir until thick and clear. Pour over apples. Sprinkle with remaining crumb mixture. Bake at 350 degrees for about 1 hour or until the apples are tender. Serve warm, with ice cream if desired. (Duh, obviously) Yield: 8 servings

The only thing that made this dessert discovery better was remembering to pull out my new dishes from the Pioneer Woman’s line.  They are so beautiful I can’t even…

They are a gorgeous shade of turquoise and when I first laid eyes on them my heart literally skipped a beat.

Seriously, I am in love with these dishes. And a scoop of this apple crisp with a small dollop or two of vanilla ice cream offset is like a culinary work of art.

I can’t wait to make another dessert, mainly just so I can use these dishes again.  So grab a few apples a
t the store today & throw this in the oven after dinner. I guarantee you your family will thank you. Your children will be indebted to you and you can use it to your advantage. Hey, it’s always good to have a little leverage as a parent. Hope you enjoy!

Staring down at the cold hard granite, I slipped some sugar into my tea and began stirring. The tea was just a distraction. Something to take my mind off the fact that I had no idea what we were going to have for dinner that night. It’s 5:00 already!?!

The thought alone was enough to make me come undone.

I was a failure. Or at least that’s what I’d allowed myself to believe.

Visions of Pinterest boards danced in my head.  Facebook posts of gourmet dinners threatened my sanity.

The black marbled countertop looked back at me accusingly. “Remember when you first moved in here? Remember all the promises you made?”

And I had. I had told myself that my lack of desire to whip up a home cooked meal, every night for the rest of my darling little family’s lives was hinged to the fact that I hated my old kitchen. It was tiny, cramped, dark and ugly. Surely in my new kitchen, with its sparkling granite counter tops & built in pantry cheering me on, I would succeed in creating a culinary masterpiece for my people for the entirety of our days.

Once upon a time, happily ever after, the end.

But I was wrong. So wrong.

And now, standing here in the very place I vowed was going to bring me the fulfillment and the satisfaction I desired, I realized it hadn’t been enough.  This dream kitchen of mine that I thought would satisfy me wasn’t enough.  And somehow through a series of wrong turns and accusations I came to another conclusion: I wasn’t enough. I’m a failure as a mom.

Who says? 

The enemy would love for us to just accept every name he tossed our way. He’s got a long list of them. Liar. Insecure. Hypocrite. Unworthy. Failure. The list goes on and on. And he tosses them at us when we’re most vulnerable.

But that’s not who God says we are. That is not who we are. It’s not our name.

Instead, he calls us: Just. Secure. Authentic. Worthy. Loved. Forgiven. 

The God who spoke our world into being is the same God that lovingly leans in and whispers to us that we are His…THAT is who we are!

I haven’t been able to get the lyrics from the song “Good Good Father” out of my head lately.

“You’re a good good father. That’s who you are. That’s who you are. And I’m loved by you. It’s who I am. It’s who I am.”

Today let’s allow God to tell us who we are. Let’s ignore all the other voices. Whether they are lies the enemy is telling us, a person we trust or admire that isn’t seeing us the way God sees us, or just our own harassing doubts.  We are loved by God. It’s who we are. 

It’s the first day back to school here in my sweet little hometown of Austin, MN. I spent the morning pouring through posts & pictures on Facebook of friends & family sharing glimpses of their morning.  There were the sweet little smiles of Kindergarteners waiting for the big yellow bus to pick them up and take them off to school for an entire day.  There were excited Seniors ready to conquer their final year and enjoy all the lasts this year will offer them. Some parents posted of their excitement to ship the kids off to school and to a more structured routine. Others were white knuckling it as they dropped off their kids and the door shut behind them.

But no matter what season of life you find yourself in this morning, we all want the same things for our kids. We want them to have a great year. We want them to learn, to be a good friend, to stand up for what’s right, to learn respect for others and to have other trusted adults speak encouragement into them.

We have so many hopes and dreams for our kids.  They are as unique and individual as our children themselves. But we also know that this world holds no promises that they will sail through life without any problems. In fact, we know that to be impossible. So today as we have prepared our kids in every other way: bought them new school clothes, new shoes, paid the fees, did the supply list shopping, bought the special calculator for their pre-Algebra class and packed their lunches….can we do one more thing? 

Let’s pray over our children.

Let’s take a minute and ask God to give them the ability to learn the concepts being taught, to give them His love so that they can be a good friend, to give them the confidence and bravery needed to stand up for what’s right. It’s all in Him. Everything we need is in HIM.

Here are 2 of the verses I’m praying over my kids this school year. I inserted “my children” into them to personalize them.

“Give my children a spirit of power, of love & of self-discipline.” 2 Timothy 1:7

“My children will know the love that surpasses knowledge-filled to the measure with all the fullness of God.” Ephesians 3:19

This year I pray our kids would know God’s love and share God’s love. His love is what our world needs. It’s what we need. Have a great “back to school” day!

“The right word may be effective, but no word was ever as effective as a rightly timed pause.” -Mark Twain

I have been trying to hit the pause button in my life a little more often lately.
It seems the busier life gets, the less time I have to pause and yet….the craving for the pause grows stronger within me.

To be perfectly honest with you, pausing can be hard for me.  With all the hustle and bustle of life I find myself scurrying from one noisy  thing to the next. And while I crave the quiet I am also at times uncomfortable with the quiet. 

The noisier life gets, the more accustom to it that I become.

The chatter, the pick-ups, the drop-offs, the obnoxiousness, the arguing, the laughing, the instructing. It’s all going on at once. It’s my constant background noise. But then suddenly I will find myself with a moment void of kids or responsibilities (oh glorious moment!) and I will sit down with my tea and start reading my devotions. And there are mornings where I could do this for hours and never grow tired of it.  But other times I feel exposed, vulnerable and bare in the wake of the silence. It’s uncomfortable. And there’s a part of me that yearns for some noise. Just a little. Something that will distract me from the painful process of growth.

Isn’t there a Pinterest craft I could be working on? Perhaps I should try my hand at a fancy new recipe. There’s always a kid’s room that could use some cleaning & organizing.

Why is it that I always feel I need to be doing something?

Because doing something is always easier than being someone.

The kitchen needs to be cleaned & and a load of laundry thrown in? Bam! Give me 30 minutes and I’ll have both done. Check. Moving on…

My heart needs a little attitude check? I need to take some thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ? Hmm…might take a little longer than that half hour time slot.  Being not only takes more time than doing, it’s also usually more painful.  Sometimes I wonder, “Is it worth it?”

But the other day I got a reminder that YES, pausing to be in His presence will always be worth it. Letting him take the chisel to my hardened heart and mold me into the person I was designed to be will always be worth the pain.  I was reading in Psalms 23. “True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction.”

The words were like water to this dry & weary soul and I realized God was telling me that pausing helps me catch my breath. Taking time to be in His presence, read the Bible and listen to His voice…all these things help me catch my breath. This verse just feels so personal to me. I feel like God is calling us over, saying “Come on over here, sit down on this big comfy couch with me. Put your feet up & grab a cup of tea (or coffee, or whatever your liquid vice is) and kick back and relax with me. Let’s catch up. Tell me what’s on your mind. Let me tell you what’s on mine.  I promise when we’re done you will feel refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of your day. Hit PAUSE for a minute so that when you hit PLAY you can embrace all that I have for you today. I’ll send you off in the right direction, don’t worry.”

He’s assuring us that the pay-off for the time we invest in Him will be worth it!

In music, it’s the pauses that make the rhythms.

Perhaps in life it’s the pauses that make the rhythms too.

Perhaps learning how to pause is a very essential part of learning how to live. 

And here’s a thought. Maybe my pauses don’t always have to be on the couch with my Bible and tea. Maybe I can pause in a car full of kids in the middle of a hectic day. Maybe I can pause while walking in to work.  Maybe I can pause in the middle of a dicey conversation.

Perhaps it’s learning the art of deciphering when and where and how long we need to pause.

In music there is something called a caesura, or a grand pause which indicates a brief, silent pause, during which time is not counted.

What if we could learn in our own lives when to take a break? To pause and linger over something. To tarry for a while. And to not “count it ” against ourselves. What if we saw it as the gift it is instead of crumbling under the weight & pressure to assign guilt to anything that doesn’t have an appearance of producing?  Sometimes we don’t take the pauses we need because of our pride. We wonder what others might think or say if we don’t look like we are “busy doing something.” But then other times we hesitate to pause because we think we need to carve out a whole block of time when really all God is asking from us is that we give him the next few moments.

As we spend time with him I believe we will learn to discern what type of pause we need.

Psalm 27:14 in the New Living Translation says this,

“Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.”

I love this verse. I love how the words brave & courageous are tucked neatly inside the bookends of “wait patiently for the Lord.”

Waiting patiently, pausing, can be an act of bravery & courage.

What type of pause do you need in your life today? Is God asking you to carve out some alone time with Him. Maybe more than your usual time that you spend with him day to day? Or is he reminding you today that even in the midst of your busy schedule you can pause and give Him a moment. Sometimes, that’s all it takes.

“Silence is the pause in me when I am near to God.” -Arvo Part

 

Life is so messy. It just is. The older I get the more I realize I don’t have it all together. And neither does anyone else. For many of us, we are just trying to do our best to navigate this world we live in while trying to shine His light in a lost, confused and messy world.

Today while I was out running (yes, be impressed, I am conquering the couch to 5K app as we speak), I was imagining what I looked like to the poor souls who caught a glimpse of me & my red hot face. I literally cannot run longer than a minute without my face turning 50 shades of crimson. The poor groundskeepers at the church, the garbage men and some sweet frail old man out for a walk with his dog, whose pace almost matched mine, but I digress. All subject to it. This hot mess that I am.

And then I felt God whisper to me, “Yes, you’re my messy masterpiece.” And the thought made me smile. Because while I am a mess, I am His mess. It doesn’t so much matter what I am. Wife, mother, friend, pastor’s wife, wanna be runner…the list goes on and on. But that list doesn’t matter. What does matter is whose I am. 

I am His.

I am His when I am cooking a nutritious meal for my family.

I am His when I slap the Wendy’s take out bags on the table for dinner. (Thrifty too because after 4:00 p.m. kids’ meals are $2.00 with a free Frosty!!!)

I am His when I am comparing myself to others.

I am His when I have a healthy confidence.

I am His when I am loving others unconditionally.

I am His when I am harboring resentment and bitterness.

I am still His. I am a work in progress. I am His messy masterpiece.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we just do what we want and throw the excuse of “Well, I’m a just a hot mess, I can’t help it” over everything and take no personal responsibility. We need to spend time in God’s word and to put into practice loving others. But in the day to day rhythms of life, while we are doing that, it’s easy for us to get lost in the mess and feel like we’ve failed. Like somehow we aren’t enough.

And today I’d like to remind that you aren’t. You are NOT enough.

Encouraging, right? Well, don’t leave me now. I have two more words for you that change everything.

He is.

He is enough. And when we identify ourselves with Him, when we give Him access to our lives, we become his messy masterpiece and in Him we are enough. We are not enough without Him, we are more than enough with Him.

When he looks at us, he sees a masterpiece, because we are His. It’s why I can look at this:

and tell you it’s my favorite “Starry Night” work of art of all time! Because of whose it is, my daughter Hannah. I love her, she is mine and when I look her I see a beautiful masterpiece.

So today be encouraged, because even if you feel like a “hot mess,” God is looking at you and He sees a beautiful “hot mess of a masterpiece.” And He’s thinking, “I love you, you are mine, and when I look at you, I see a masterpiece.”

I’m gonna steal a quote from “Pretty Woman” and say I think that comparison is also a slippery little sucker. (Insert image of an escargot flying across the dinner table.) It can start out rather harmless. We tell ourselves we are just pointing out the obvious. Stating facts is all. But if we’re not careful those ‘obvious facts’ quickly become bits of information that we allow to play over and over again in our mind. The more we focus on it, the more obsessed we become with it. And if we’re not careful, we can find our comparisons flying out of our hands uncontrollably, just like the slippery snails. We find ourselves trying to weigh things out, wanting everything to be fair.  Problem is, life isn’t fair. And the more we think about it the less content we become with who or what we have in our own lives.

Comparison left unchecked brews discontentment. Discontentment is a state of mind that robs us of our time, energy & joy. So if we’re not careful to take our thoughts captive & make them obedient to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5) then we find our eyes wandering and our heart growing discontent.

Matthew 20 tells the story of a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. There was an agreed upon price of a denarius for the day of work. A few hours later the landowner goes out and sees others standing in the marketplace, not doing anything, and says to them to go work in his vineyard. He says, “I will pay you whatever is right.” This happens several more times as the landowner goes out again at about noon, 3:00, & 5:00 and hires additional workers.

At the end of the day, the owner of the vineyard calls his foreman and tells him to call in the workers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last ones hired and going on to the first. Verse 9 says, “The workers who were hired about five in the afternoon came and each received a denarius. So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’

I can’t tell you how many times I have read this passage and sympathized with the workers. I feel for them. I can put myself in their shoes. Here they have been doing manual labor for the entire day under the scorching rays of the hot sun. They are tired, dirty and thirsty. They look like they’ve been working hard all day. Their hair is disheveled and there’s sweat & dirt caked on their sunburnt faces.  I can imagine them setting down their tools only to look up and find Mr. One Hour of Work (5:00 man) standing there with barely a hair out of place and his clean, callous-free hands reaching out to accept his denarius. Talk about unfair!

But this morning as I was reading this story again the Holy Spirit helped me see things  a bit differently.  Expectations are slippery little suckers too! When we decide in our own mind the way things should go…our expectation of the outcome, instead of trusting God’s heart, we can find ourselves feeling a little ripped off.  But I love how God shows us in this story how He is constantly trying to teach us to trust Him.

The response of the owner of the vineyard mirrors God’s response to me when I want to throw down my tools, stomp my feet and scream “That’s not fair!!” Verse 13,  “But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money?  ‘Or are you envious because I am generous?’

It feels as if this one question strips everything else away. My answer to this question will determine whether I continue to live a life of comparison or whether I make the decision to live a life full of thanksgiving and gratefulness for what I have already been given.  A life that trusts the hand of God.

Are we envious because He’s generous? Are we envious of the gifting He’s placed inside of others? Are we envious that He has given our friends financial blessings? Or that our friends children are better at sports than ours? Are we spending our time looking around comparing everything and feeling ripped off?? Or are we going to make the intentional decision to stop comparing and start celebrating?!! We need to keep our focus on Him, quit looking at all the things we don’t have and start thanking God for what we do have. And when those around us are blessed by God’s generosity then we need to celebrate with them! 

Celebrating with others brings us into their  journey with them instead of standing on the sidelines being a spectator.  It may only take a few steps to move from spectator to participant but I promise you the vantage point will change everything. Not to mention that we want others to celebrate with us when it’s our turn.  It’s no fun celebrating all by yourself. 

I have a sign in my kitchen window that says, Eucharisteo (or thanksgiving) always, always precedes the miracle. It’s a reminder to me to always be thankful. The miracle of living a life free of comparison will come after we learn to live a life of gratefulness. I am so thankful for a God who patiently shows me how to cultivate a heart of gratefulness. I pray that today we learn to trust His heart as He continues to teach us and stretch our hearts.

This one word has followed me around this advent season. And to be honest, it has been following me around for most of this past year.

Emmanuel.  God with us. 

It seems fitting here as I gaze out the window at the beautiful fresh fallen snow on the ground. As I watch the snow flakes continue to fall onto the painted white ground. In the advent season, the days leading up to our Savior’s birth, the name Emmanuel is heard often. As we read scripture verses, as we sing hymns, it’s repeated over and over. And we think of the tiny newborn baby coming to be…with us. His amazing grace all wrapped up in swaddling clothes, laying in a manger. The first time Jesus is with us.

Where I didn’t expect to find Emmanuel was in the hot, dry heat of Zambia, Africa. The name Emmanuel doesn’t seem like it belongs in a desert. Hanging there dry & dusty without a trace of snow or mistletoe. Seems like an awkward place for it. But just as he made his entry into this world in a way we least expected, he met me on the warm soil of Africa in a way I least expected.

We were up bright & early to make our way to a village to pass out shoes with Soles For Jesus. To tell the truth the trip had taken a bit of a toll on my “mama heart” and I was missing my kids. Which I wrestled with because here I was amidst so many children who had so little and I was here to help. To love on them. To share God’s love with them. To bring them shoes. This wasn’t the time to thinking about my own kids. I opened the van door and walked out to where a group of people had already started assembling. And that’s when I saw him. This little boy running straight towards me, arms open wide. I had just enough time to crouch down and open my arms wide as he jumped up into them. And there he sat. Holding me. Arms around my neck. And he was in no hurry to leave. So I stood up and walked around with him, head on my shoulders, arms around my neck. Like he was my very own. He didn’t move for probably 15 minutes. The way he drew his body up into a big ball and wrapped his legs tight around me reminded me so much of my son Levi who I dubbed my “spider monkey” years ago. It was like therapy just holding him. Later I learned his name. Emmanuel. God with us. 

The rest of the day was met with this same name over and over agin. I couldn’t escape it.  It seemed every time I asked a person their name their response was the same: Emmanuel.

His very personal way of reminding me that he was with me.

And he whispers the same today. To me and to you. To all.

He is our God and he is with us.

He’s with us through the joyous times and the discouraging times.

He’s with us through loss. Unimaginable, heart breaking, staggering loss.

He’s with us through the hurt and pain of rejection.

He’s with us through the bumps and bruises of parenting.

He’s with us when we’re feeling like we’ve got things handled pretty well and he’s with us when we can feel life unraveling around us.

It doesn’t matter where we are or where we go. It doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas time or we’re on the African plains.

He is with us.

He came to be with us. He desires to have a relationship with us.  He came to share His love with us. And his heart desire is for us to share that love with others.

I pray that throughout this next year we would truly understand the holy weight of the word Emmanuel. God is with us. I think it just might change everything.

 “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”). Matthew 1:23

A favorite Christmas treat for our family is homemade Egg Nog. This year my 7-year old daughter Hannah helped me whip up  a batch for a Christmas party for our Kids’ Ministry Leaders. After sampling it for what she said was her first time ever she decided it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. We had to whip up another batch a few days later for our family to properly inhale, I mean enjoy. It’s super easy & because it’s Christmas the calorie intake doesn’t count. Enjoy!

 1 dozen egg yolks (beaten)

1c. sugar

1 pt. 1/2 & 1/2

1 C. heavy whipping cream

1 qt. egg nog (any store bought brand)

1 gallon whole milk

vanilla to taste

rum flavoring to taste (I usually omit this as I don’t always have it on hand)

nutmeg to garnish

yield: ~1 1/2 gallons

Separate egg yolks. Beat the egg yolks & add sugar. Beat well. In another bowl whip the heavy whipping cream with some sugar (regular or powdered sugar, whatever you have on hand). Set aside. Mix all the cold ingredients & the egg & sugar combination in a large bowl. At the very end, fold in the heavy whipping cream. Add spices to taste.

I throw a nice heaping tablespoon of nutmeg across the top. Looks so pretty & gives it a great taste!

To my friend.

Thank you for sharing your journey with us. For dreaming big. For showing us what it looks like to be wrecked by something and then putting action behind those feelings. 

Thank you for showing us that when you allow yourself to dream God-sized dreams, are obedient on your end, and then trust him to do his part…ANYTHING  is possible!  Thanks for the reminder that love is always reason enough.

Thank you for showing us in a very tangible way, the face of determination.  Thanks for sharing the highs and the lows with us. Reminding us that when chasing after dreams it may not always be a smooth and easy road. But that doesn’t mean we should quit or turn back. We keep plowing on ahead. Because some things are worth fighting for. Hungry children. They’re worth fighting for.

Thank you for reminding us that we can share God’s love in an infinite number of ways. Sometimes that’s in conversation, sometimes in relationship and sometimes….in running.

Thank you for encouraging us to find our own creative ways to share God’s love. His creativity is woven into us. We each have the ability to share God’s love in a unique, creative and personal way.

Thank you for inspiring us to dream big dreams ourselves. To look inside and take inventory of the unique talents and gifts inside each of us and realize our potential to change the world.

Thank you for rallying a community together. For showing us that together is better.  For giving us something outside ourselves, bigger than ourselves to strive towards.  Thanks for showing us what living life large really looks like. For reminding us that sometimes the journey is just as important as the destination and that including the right people on your journey can make all the difference.

Thank you that at 2:21 a.m. I can’t sleep and I’m up writing because I am excited, inspired and my heart is stirred.  I’m excited because 100,000 + meals will be delivered to hungry little bellies across the world. I’m excited because this race has caused people to live connected to one another.  I’m excited to see what inspiration may come from watching someone do something beyond themselves for the benefit of others.  

Thank you for running the race to win. And thanks for running it for something even better than a gold medal.

1 Corinthians 9:24-25  “You’ve all been to the stadium and seen the athletes race. Everyone runs; one wins. Run to win. All good athletes train hard. They do it for a gold medal that tarnishes and fades. You’re after one that’s gold eternally.”

One of my favorite people that I’ve never actually met. That’s how I referred to her the other day to my sister-in-law. I was talking about my new friend, Jen Hatmaker.  She’s a fun, stylish, hilarious (with a healthy dose of sarcasm thrown in for good measure) mama that loves God with all her heart. The kind of person you are drawn towards. And when it comes to people like that you don’t have to actually meet them to feel like you know them.

Of course, reading a book they’ve written will help forge that “sister love” pretty fast too. Anytime someone shares their heart and their faith journey with you it’s hard not to feel an instant connection, regardless of the miles between you. This is how it happened with me & Jen. She drew me in with her writing that gave me access to her zest for life, her “this is how it is” no nonsense approach to sharing the real her without all the pomp and circumstance. She made my mama heart swell with her love for her kids (the 3 she had and the 2 beauties she adopted from Ethiopia.) And after watching a couple of episodes of her new HGTV show “My Big Family Renovation” I was all in. I mean any girl that decides to renovate a house while raising 5 kids and allows cameras to follow her around at a time that I can only guess held some of her “darkest hours EVER” deserves my applause. I mean really. Shortly after signing up to be her EF (e-mail friend) (you can too by clicking here)  I stumbled upon the opportunity to read a copy of her revised and updated version of  “Interrupted.”

I will admit that I just finished this book a couple of days ago.  And so, while I wish I could fill this post with a review of the book that is wrapped up nice and tidy with a big, beautiful bow on top…I cannot.

I cannot because I have been suspended here while I digest it.
I feel like someone has pushed the “pause” button and I’m caught between what I thought I knew and what I am just now discovering. Or perhaps more just a fuller realization of the life Christ really wants me to live. And I’m trying to figure out what my action step should be. The step that will help put some meat on the bones of my belief. And the idea of looking in the mirror to catch a glimpse of the life God’s offering me only to walk away and immediately forget what it looks like…it leaves me feeling sick.

I’m kinda stuck because in order to move forward things have to change.

I have to change.

I can’t just read it, and “uh-huh” it and go about life as usual anymore. And it’s not just about the book. Interrupted is a tool that I believe God will use when the hands that open the pages reflect the open heart accompanying it.

And while my physical self feels paused my mind and heart are feeling anything but. They are working overtime, running back and forth, going over previous footage of my life, rewinding and unwinding so much of what I thought I knew.

This book for me was not so much a new idea as it was a resurgence of an idea that had gotten lost in the shuffle of life. It has challenged me to get back to the basics.  The basics I had forgotten. Or ignored. Or turned a blind eye to. 

And that were now staring me in the face, begging the question, “What are you going to do about it?”

It’s similar to going on a hike. And getting lost. (Not that I’ve ever done that before. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) At some point you realize  that you’re off the beaten path and you’re not sure where you are or how you got there. You just know you gotta get back.

You started out on the right trail.  But then suddenly, after looking around at your surroundings, you realize you’re not where you want to be. You have to go back to the last place you know you were headed in the right direction and start again. One foot in front of the other. Baby steps.

This is where I find myself. At the last known marked spot. 

And I echo Jen’s words in the book when she says, “I wish I could go back. Then I could go to the optometrist without crying in the parking lot for fifteen minutes because I can afford the extravagant gift of good eyesight. It was less heart wrenching to tuck my kids into bed without envisioning the millions of children who will sleep on dirt with no mother to attend to their needs that night………I enjoyed not feeling raw all the time. I liked imagining I was something rather than realizing I am nothing. I can’t unknow what I know, and I can’t unsee what I’ve seen; it leaves me aching.”

The words that leave me aching now may not have had the same impact a year ago. But God has been breaking me. Slowly. His timing in our lives is one of our greatest gifts although we don’t often realize it. Because while I was reading this book my heart was being transported back to Africa. It’s as if every word I read brought to mind the faces of the children I stared into during my time in Zambia this last May. Those eyes. Those haunting, beautiful eyes. Those hands. Those strong worn hands. Those feet. Those filthy lovely feet. 

That’s when the faces of my African friends turned into the faces of my neighbors. And it cracked my heart wide open.

God was showing me that the love I had for those African villages was the kind of love that was needed in my own neighborhood.

The need is great. The need is everywhere. The need is next door.

The need showed up in Wal-mart a few days later.

It wasn’t anything big. To be absolutely honest, I’m embarrassed to share the smallness of it. But I will anyways.

I couldn’t exactly tell what was going on, but by the looks of it she was short on money and the line of people behind her were gearing up for a mutiny.  We were in checkout aisles next to each other and I felt God whisper to my heart, “Give her some money.” So I did what any good Christian would do…I stalled. I was next in line and I couldn’t very well just leave my groceries there and walk away to help someone else. I mean, I could’ve lost my spot! But my heart started beating harder, faster, louder and I knew God wanted me to do something. So I told God, “Okay, okay, if there’s still a problem over there when I’m done checking out, I’ll go see if I can help.”  As I’m sure you could guess, by the time I had finished paying and packing up the groceries in my cart, there was still a need. I walked over and asked how much she needed. I handed her two bills and she gave me one back saying, “Just this one will be enough. Thank you.”

I barely made it across the parking lot to my car before I started coming undone. I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. I sat in my vehicle with my puffy eyes and wondered how something so small could impact me so greatly.

Could it be, as Jen writes, “We have an innate craving to live on mission with God in the dangerous, exciting world. Out there is where we come to life, get over ourselves, are fed.”

Could it be that something as small as getting out into my grocery store (my world) and living on mission with God (listening to his promptings, even the little ones like covering someone’s grocery bill) could help me get over myself and feed me? 

I’ve been contemplating Jen’s questions.

“If we’ve been in church for years yet aren’t full, are we really hungry for more knowledge? In our busy lives, do we really need another program or event? Do we really need to be fed more of the Word or are we simply undernourished from an absence of living the Word? Maybe we love God, but are we loving others? If our faith is about us, then we are not just hungry-our spirits are starving.”

Are you ready to let Jesus’ teachings wreck your comfortable Christian life? Are you okay with living in a state of “pause” for a bit while you ask God to help you figure this stuff out? Are you okay with being cracked wide open, being left vulnerable and raw? If so, then this is the book for you.

But if not, then this is still the book for you. (Sneaky, huh?)

You see, I’m not sure I would’ve answered “yes” to all of these questions myself a month ago.  But here’s the thing: The “rawness” I was scared of has become my greatest gift. My vulnerability rubbed me raw until all I had left was Jesus.

That’s all that’s left. That’s all I need.

So, because I have enjoyed this book so much and to say “thank-you” to all my loyal readers, I am giving away a brand new copy of the book Interrupted: When Jesus Wrecks Your Comfortable Christianity. The more you like, share & tweet…the better your chances of winning. So go ahead and comment, share, like and tweet. And may the odds be ever in your favor.

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They say beauty lies in the eye of the beholder.

It’s a romantic notion. But also one that suggests that beauty can somehow change or shift depending upon the person observing it. Take for example me. I’m not altogether sure most people would look at me and think I’m beautiful. I’d like to think I’m not overtly offensive to most, but still the word beautiful seems a stretch.  It’s a description we tend to save for those things or  people who are truly special to us.  The interesting thing is that while most would not bestow this title upon me, my husband does. He absolutely thinks I’m beautiful. At times it baffles me. Early on in our marriage I just flat out thought that he was full of it. That he was just flattering me.  But I’ve come to realize that he truly believes it. When he looks at me he sees more than just my outer or physical attributes, he sees who I really am. He knows me. And he believes me to be beautiful. And you know what? He has believed it and spoken it over me for so long that I’ve come to believe it about myself.

I was biking the other day and feeling a bit melancholy about life in general and about how fast my kids seem to be growing up.  I was riding through a part of the bike trail that was secluded with trees and dotted with little lavender flowers. The sky was a brilliant blue dotted with puffy white clouds overhead. And as I took in all the beauty around me, I couldn’t help but still feel a sense of sadness.   Yes, there was beauty here. I could see that. Anybody could. But my heart was heavy, pondering where the beauty was in life’s brokenness.  You know, the aches and pains of parenting. How is that beautiful?  The friend who lost her mom to cancer.  What could possibly be beautiful about that?  The loneliness of the single mom soon to be an empty nester.  What part of that has beauty?  There are just so many parts of life that don’t look beautiful to me.

But I began to wonder if maybe we’re looking at it wrong.  Maybe beauty doesn’t lie in the eyes of the beholder.  Maybe beauty lies in the arms of the holder.

When beauty is dependent upon the observer, then the definition of beauty shifts and changes depending upon who is observing.  But beauty, true beauty should be a constant.  Never changing, never dependent upon another’s perspective.  True beauty just is.  It stands independently.

Perhaps true beauty doesn’t lie in the viewing as much as it does in the holding.  Perhaps beauty lies in the arms of the One who holds it all together.

“…everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment.” Colossians 1:17,18 

If that verse doesn’t scream beauty, then I don’t know what does.

And maybe, just maybe, my inability to see the beauty doesn’t dictate whether or not the beauty exists.

We live in a world that says beauty is all about what we see. But I felt God challenge me to stop looking and start sensing the beauty around me.

When I am going through a tough parenting season and I look at my situation, I don’t see beauty. I just don’t.

But sometimes a friend will encourage me to keep going. They might pray for me and remind me of God’s faithfulness to me in the past.  And then, even though my situation is still the same, even though I still don’t see anything beautiful, I sense something beautiful. I feel God at work in my life, in my circumstances, and that feels beautiful to me.

And for my dear friend who lost her mom to cancer. There is nothing beautiful about the cancer or the loss. There just isn’t.  But if you dig a little deeper and talk to her you will find there is much beauty to be found in the aftermath of the ugly. Like the beauty of her knowing that she serves a God who walks through the loss with her. The gift of realizing how precious life is. The desire to connect with her kids on a deeper level because of the loss. All of this is beautiful. 

Maybe today you can see the beauty around you. Maybe it’s pretty obvious to you in your current circumstances. Thank God for that. Thank Him for the moments we can see the beauty.  But maybe today your circumstances seem a bit more bleak and you’re struggling to find any sort of beauty in it. Maybe it just doesn’t look beautiful to you, no matter what angle you come at it from. It’s just plain ugly!  Can I encourage you to let God hold your ugly?  Maybe a sliver of beauty will appear in the simple process of letting go and having him hold it all for you.  Maybe you feel like a hot mess. Like you’re just barely hanging on. Can I remind you that even in these moments or seasons of life that seem downright out of control….there’s a God who holds it all together and wants to walk through it with you. Beauty doesn’t always look like we think it should. But if we trust him he will hold the ugly for us and point us towards the beauty. He can create beauty out of anything. Ecclesiastes 3:11, “He has made all things beautiful in his time.”

Sometimes God uses the words our kids speak to relay an important message to us.

If we’re listening, sometimes we can hear more than just what’s being said in the natural. If we’re truly listening, sometimes we can hear the quiet assurance, direction, comfort or even correction that he’s whispering to us.

For me it was that last one.

This morning when I woke up I was reminded of what went down last night. And it wasn’t pretty. The heavy, sticky feeling of regret still clinging to me.

What is my problem? Why do I keep doing this? Stuffing. Exploding. Stuffing Exploding. It might as well be written on the back of my shampoo bottle. Rinse & repeat.

I’m not even really sure what set me off last night. All I know is I was done. I was done picking up leaky, sticky popsicle wrappers that had stained my white coffee table their purple hue. I was done carrying laundry downstairs to be washed, then upstairs to be folded, and then up another flight of stairs to be put away. I was done pleading with my children to please, please take their belongings off the stairs so that I could carry their clean folded laundry upstairs for them without tripping or impaling my foot on a sharp object.  All without a word of recognition or thanks mind you. I was just altogether done with anyone needing absolutely anything from me. 

That’s when I exploded, spewing “ugly” all over the place. All over my family.

And then I went to bed.

Feeling yucky. Feeling regret. Feeling like a failure.

When I woke the next morning my husband was gone (who could blame him?) and my son Levi crawled into bed with me. He told me that he had talked with his brother and sister and they had decided from now on they were going to pick up whatever they got out and clean up after themselves. Well of course they were!  They didn’t want to see their mom flip her lid like that ever again!  I had officially scared them straight. I apologized in a deep raspy tone for losing my cool. The sound of my voice cued him in that my throat was hurting me again and so he asked if he could pray for me.

It was short, sweet and right to the point.  “Dear Jesus, be with mommy. Help heal her throat because it hurts her. Make it all better. And heal her sick heart too. Make that all better too. Amen.”

He was right. My throat wasn’t the only thing that needed healing.

My heart was sick too.

The thing that was so discouraging to me was that I had just finished reading “Unglued” by Lysa Terkuerst. If you haven’t read it yet, I must recommend it. It’s my favorite kind of book. You know the kind. The one where one minute you’re laughing hysterically (seriously, for me it was out loud in the bathtub) and the next you kinda feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like “Whoa, that just got REAL!” I think that’s what happens when truth shines its light in our dark, hard to reach places. It sometimes catches us off guard.

So of course after finishing the book I thought I had mastered the art of NOT coming unglued. But man, do those raw emotions come out of nowhere and ravage everything in their sight.

I enjoyed the book so much I had thought about doing a life group on it this fall. Had thought. Past tense. Because regret is often times followed by a cloud. A large dark ominous cloud that hangs smack dab in front of our judgement. It cuts us off from reality. And if we’re not careful, the decisions we make in the wake of regret, when we can’t see past the offending cloud, can continue the cycle of regret. A vicious cycle of rinse & repeat all over again.

In the dark cloud stage these are my thoughts. “What makes you think you can lead a small group on this when you obviously haven’t figured it out yourself  yet?!!” “You’re not a good mom. A good mom wouldn’t lose her cool like that with her kids.” “You’re a failure as a mom.” “You’re a failure as a wife.” “In fact, you’re just one big fat ugly failure!” Okay, so maybe that last one is a bit of a stretch. BUT…if you’re a woman and you’re reading this, then you know what I’m talking about. It’s not really that far off base. We start at point A and then after regret & loss of judgement set in, we somehow arrive at point H. The only problem is the “Regret & Loss of Judgement Train” takes us down the wrong tracks. We think these crazy thoughts because we are still plagued by our regret and we haven’t waited for the storm clouds to disperse. We haven’t spent time with the only one who can cause those storm clouds to keep on rolling by thus revealing the beautiful calm that comes after. And it’s there, in the after, that we can make decisions based on sound judgement.

The clear sky stage is where my thoughts go something more like this: “Yes, I came unglued last night. I had a bad night but that does not make me a bad mom.” “Yes, I still have a long way to go in this area but I am slowly making progress.” “I believe that with God’s help this is an area I will get better at.” And, “Yes, I can still run a small group on this topic without having mastered it yet.” After all, just think of all the great “life experience” stories I’ll have to share with the ladies.

I realized as my son was praying for me and for my heart that I have a choice. I always have a choice.  It doesn’t always feel like it. But I do.

I have the choice to let my emotions & my mind jump on board the train that leads me to Crazy Town. Or…I have the choice to let that train go by and instead wait for the next one. I can take some time and find a quiet place and work through those raw emotions with a God who sees and understands and wants to bring me clarity.

The minute I heard my son use the words heart and sick together I felt the Holy Spirit whisper his kind correction to me. Nudging me toward him. Toward the only one who can truly heal my sick heart.

Today if you are feeling the sticky residue of regret clinging to you, I encourage you to let that first train go by.  Don’t let regret rob you of your sound judgement. Grab a bench and sit down. You can always catch the next one. Don’t be quick to make decisions and assertions about yourself that aren’t based in truth. Wait and hear what God has to say about it. You might be surprised by the answer you get. We can trust that what he says about us is true. Wait for the dark clouds to pass and ask for a new perspective. Apply the grace he’s given to us. Rinse & repeat. 

I keep trying to sum up my trip to Africa in a word or a few short sentences. I have so many wonderful friends & family members who supported me along the way and they want to know, “How was it?” 

And so I keep grasping for the right word. There must be one. Or the right the answer. Something to say to the neighbor in that 5-minute window we have that will capture all my thoughts and feelings about the incredible country and the amazing people I met during my trip. But honestly, there’s just not. And it almost seems to cheapen the experience to not share it all. To just say, “It was amazing” or “Life changing.” Although it was, in fact, both of these things.

So because this blog is such a great venue for me to express myself and to share my heart with you, I will do my best to give you a glimpse into my time there.

If I was only allowed one word, and let’s be real, “Who would put such silly stipulations on sharing an experience?” But, if that were the case, the word that keeps surfacing to my mind is
wrecked.

Wrecked:  Any building, structure or thing, reduced to a state of ruin. Or in my case, any person. Wrecked: to tear down, demolish. My thoughts and ideas. My preconceived notions. “Wrecked: When a Broken World Slams into your Comfortable Life.” (A book by Jeff Goins.) 

That’s pretty much how I feel. I am feeling bruised from the cold pieces of this broken world that have slammed hard against my comfortable life.

It’s like I exchanged my heart for a sponge this last week and came to Africa dry and porous.  I soaked in the people, the villages, the culture and the breathtaking landscape. But more than that-I soaked in their eyes as they looked at me.  Their eyes told a story. For some it was a sad, hard story. Others looked at me with hope, their eyes shining. Many took my hand and squeezed it saying, “Thank-you. Thank-you so much!” or “God bless you!” And all of it I soaked in.

The very first feet I washed were the strong & beautiful feet of the oldest female leader in the village of Chiyali. As I took her feet & guided them to the wash basin, a feeling of humbleness like nothing I have ever experienced before washed over me. My hands were trembling as I grabbed the washcloth and slowly started washing her feet. Then I took the towel and started to dry her feet, daring to look up into her eyes. Scared I would unleash a flow of tears I would be powerless to stop, but knowing this was not the time for holding anything back, I laid my hand on her shoulder. I looked deep into her eyes and said “God bless you for all that you do.” She looked at me, a perfect stranger, her eyes full of love and gratefulness as she thanked me.

She thanked me.

This incredibly strong woman that has spent her life serving her family and her village, working the ground to produce crops to feed her family and tending to the needs of the poor in her village. She IS a Proverbs 31 woman and she is thanking me? 

I’m still letting that one settle.

And so it went. People greatly moved by our act of love displayed in the washing of their feet and the gifting of a pair of shoes. One pair of shoes.

37.

That’s the number of shoes I currently have sitting in my closet.

And guess what? I’m not having to wear them to walk 3 miles to get the water I’m going to use for the day. No, I have them to match all of my different outfits. Ugh.

In one of the villages there was a little girl, probably about 7 or 8 years old who was very excited about her new shoes. I couldn’t help but think of my own daughter Hannah who is the same age. She was smiling from ear to ear and was just staring at her shoes as if she had just been handed the greatest gift of her life. And I guess in some ways it was. The interpreter told me that it was the very first pair of shoes she has ever owned. She has never owned a single pair of shoes.  The excitement in her smile wrecked me some more.

And I soaked it in.

My heart-turned sponge is saturated with faces I can’t let go of. Don’t want to let go of.

It’s dripping with the idea that life is best lived simply.

That living with less doesn’t include living with less of God.

I have never met a people group with less who love more.

Philippians 4:11-14 was written by the Apostle Paul but this morning when I read this verse, all I could hear were the voices of my African brothers and sisters saying,

“I’m glad in God, far happier than you would ever guess—happy that you’re again showing such strong concern for me. Not that you ever quit praying and thinking about me. You just had no chance to show it. Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. I don’t mean that your help didn’t mean a lot to me—it did. It was a beautiful thing that you came alongside me in my troubles.”

Whatever you have, wherever you are, you can make it through anything in the One who makes you who you are. 

This truth should wreck you too.

I love it when something “clicks” in my parenting journey. I love it when there’s a connection point for me or my kids, or both if we’re really lucky. As a mom I’m constantly devouring anything I can in regards to parenting. Books, blogs, magazine articles, absolutely anything. Sometimes I wonder how I can take in so much great information and still be such a klutz when it comes to applying it. But when those “connection moments” happen, it can be pretty powerful.

My adorable strong-willed middle child has taught me more about myself than I sometimes care to admit. I spent the first several years of his life thinking we were nothing alike. At some point along the way it hit me that actually we were a whole lot more alike than I’d first been willing to admit. And at this point in our relationship I think it’s safe to say that at times it’s like looking in the mirror. Stubborn is the word that I use to describe my son but when referring to myself it somehow translates into “passionate.” Sounds better, don’t you think?

The two of us have embarked on a journey together that has taught me to celebrate the little things. Small victories. Baby steps people! And so I have spent the last few months specifically praying for divine wisdom in understanding and relating to my son Levi. And true to form, God has been giving me glimpses into my son’s heart.

I’ve discovered that my son really thrives when I speak out encouraging words to him or about him. If you’ve read the book The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman, then you’re probably already guessing that my son’s love language is words of affirmation. And, you would be right. But God has really helped me go even deeper to realize the impact that other people’s words have on my son. I’ve been slowly realizing this but something happened last week that just brought it all home for me again.

A friend of mine wrote me a sweet note. In it she basically explained how she had seen Levi firsthand be kind and understanding to her son in the midst of an agitating situation. The letter wasn’t real long. She basically just shared what she had seen transpire and then said this simple statement. “Levi is a gem of a kid.” And I have to tell you, I was holding back the tears. It encouraged me so much! That simple note said so much more than the words in it. It was like God was speaking through the letter reminding me that my prayers and my tears and my heartache have not gone unnoticed. He reminded me again that we are all in our own stage of growth and that He is still in the process of writing our story. Levi’s story. My story. Our family story. He’s not done yet…He’s still writing.

I don’t think I had finished reading the letter for more than 30 seconds when I had a thought pop in my head. I decided I would read it to Levi in the morning. Sure, I wanted him to know that I was proud of him, but I had also begun to see the significance of other people’s encouraging words.  The next morning it just so happened that my two other children were sick and sleeping in so it was just Levi & I getting ready for school. He had on his favorite football robe, his Star Wars blanket all wrapped up tight around his neck and his hair was disheveled.  I grabbed a chair, pulled it up next to him and told him I wanted to read him a letter that a friend of mine had sent. He listened intently, his face beaming with pride and his mouth turned up at both ends into the widest smile he could muster. About halfway through the letter I noticed tears starting to stream down his rosy little cheeks. By the end of the letter we were both crying.

I was so moved by his reaction to it. And then he looked up at me with his big beautiful eyes and his tear-stained face and said this: “Mom, I know you love me. And I know you’re proud of me. But it’s really great to know that somebody else feels that way about me too.”

It took my breath away. The honesty in that moment. The way he was able to understand what he was feeling and then explain it to me in simple words. That, in and of itself, was something for us to celebrate.

So tonight I am thankful for a friend who took the time to write a kind word. Thankful for the progress my little man has made in his relationships. And even more than that, I am thankful for a God who as amazingly complex as He is…. is also sweetly simple.

“If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and he will give it to you.” James 1:5

So whether you’re in a difficult situation or a tough season of life right now, I want to encourage you to keep praying. And be specific too.  Ask for the wisdom we so desperately need and he so desires to give us. I truly believe that because I had been praying and asking God for wisdom and understanding with Levi that God dropped the idea of sharing the note with him into my heart. We were able to share a beautiful moment together that bonded our hearts together. And you mamas know that it’s those “beautiful” little moments that get us through the larger and more frequent “ugly” ones.

I don’t think it was a coincidence that it was just the two of us in the kitchen that morning.  God’s hand is in the tiny little details. We just have to be watching for them. Sometimes they are so little they are easy to overlook.

There is something supernatural that happens when encouragement is taking place. God can do a deep work in those little moments of life. I think of how a friend who took a moment to write a sweet note was able to not only encourage this mama’s heart but also the heart of her son. I bet she had no idea.

Romans 14:19 says, “So let’s agree to use all our energy in getting along with each other. Help others with encouraging words…” 

Acts 20:2 says, “Traveling through the country, passing from one gathering to another, he gave constant encouragement, lifting their spirits and charging them with fresh hope.”

So what sweet little word of encouragement is God whispering to your heart today? Who will you share it with? You never know the power those words may carry. 

My little girl got her ears pierced today.

It felt like a “rite of passage” of sorts. Like somehow the hole in her ear bridged a gap between the little girl she used to be and the young woman she is becoming. There are times lately when I look at her and the transformation seems to happen in the blink of an eye. I’ll be looking at her and see the little girl I know and then suddenly she’ll catch my eye and take my breath away as the young woman I don’t know yet.

She’s my baby. I think it’ll always be like that with her. Every new achievement is somehow laced with a degree of sadness over what will never be again. It’s all just a little bittersweet.

Life’s full of bittersweet moments.

Like finding out your best friend’s mother has lost her battle with cancer and no longer calls this place her home. She’s in heaven. And we rejoice over that fact. We realize that we can’t even begin to fully grasp the beauty that she is beholding right now. She’s with the one who created her. The one who breathed the very breath of life into her. She is truly at peace. She is truly at home. She is truly alive.

But we are still sad. We are sad because we can’t help but remember the creaking of floorboards under our feet as we scurried across the upstairs floor in our pajamas as little girls. We would race to the bedroom and slam the door shut behind us as we burst out in laughter.  We remember the late night giggles and the “Who do you think is cute?” conversations followed closely by a round of M.A.S.H.  We remember the house in the country that held so many wonderful memories because a mom cared enough to foster that atmosphere. We didn’t know it just then. But we sure do now. We know it because now we are moms. And we understand the care that goes into making a house a home. We understand the intentionality that goes into leaving a legacy of faith with your kids. We understand that sometimes you love your kids’ friends almost as much as your own. And we understand the power behind those relationships.

So today is bittersweet for me.

I am happy for Pat. She is where there is no pain or suffering. She is in the presence of the God of the universe. She is praising her creator and she is complete in His presence. She is where she belongs. But we…we are not. And perhaps that is what makes us feel so bittersweet. 

Psalm 34:8 says, “Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see- how good God is. Blessed are you who run to him.”

We know he’s good. She left a legacy with her children & grandchildren that testified-to the very end- that God is good. And so even though we are sad, we still see that God is good. And because we know he’s good, because we can trust him, then we are instructed to run to him. What better time to run to him than in the bittersweet moments of life?

We’ve tasted and we’ve seen. And now we are to run.

So today whether you’re experiencing a moment that’s bittersweet or you are in a season of life that is seemingly endlessly bittersweet, I encourage you to run to the one who is good. 

I’m thankful for the legacy of “running to the one who is good” that Pat left behind. I plan on following her example….until we meet again.

Have you ever gone to your closet in anticipation of putting together a fun outfit only to find yourself in the same spot 10 minutes later still staring at the same options? There have been times when I have thought “If only I could run to Target quick.
I know I could come up with something!” I know that men don’t always get this about women but there are times when we just need to express ourselves with our style. We want to be an ORIGINAL.

The Bible actually talks about this. One of my favorite scriptures is found in Galatians 5:25,26. It says this:

“Since this is the kind of life we have chosen, the life of the Spirit, let us make sure that we do not just hold it as an idea in our heads or a sentiment in our hearts, but work out its implications in every detail of our lives. That means we will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse. We have far more interesting things to do with our lives. Each of us is an original.”

The end of that verse really hits home for me. And I believe for most of us as women. We tend to compare. We think, “I wish I had her wardrobe. hair. body.” Fill in the blank. “I wish my husband. kid. girlfriend. was more like that.” We’re constantly wanting to “be” somebody other than who we are. Somebody other than who God created us to be. And that’s a problem.

I hate to break it to you but we don’t need another Mother Teresa. We don’t need another Picasso or Vincent van Gogh. We don’t even need another Bono. (Heresy,I know.) The world doesn’t need another anybody! If we did, God would’ve made another one. What this world does need is YOU.

We need YOU. YOU- who haven’t showered for days and brushing your teeth seems like a thing of the past because you’re raising precious little lives that take ALL of your energy. YOU- who goes to your job day in and day out doing mundane tasks but doing them with love. YOU- who are taking care of parents and loved ones who can’t take care of themselves anymore.  We need YOU to be YOU.

Have you ever borrowed something to wear from a girlfriend? Every once in a while we do that. We borrow a great jacket or a fancy dress. But we don’t call that same girlfriend every day asking to borrow her clothes. That would be ridiculous. (And very annoying.) She would probably tell you, “You have your own wardrobe! Wear something you own.”

And she’d be right.

So stop trying to borrow your girlfriend’s jacket all the time. It’s not yours! It’s hers. It looks better on her for a reason.

Her gifts, her talents her passions, they look good on her because God gave them to her.

Are you depressed yet? Don’t be. Here’s the best part. You have your own God-given wardrobe. And you know what? There’s some really great pieces in there. Sometimes we just have to dig a little. There might be a really great jacket that’s been pushed to the back. Sometimes we just need to mix it up a little. We need to pull some pieces that we don’t normally pair together and try them out.

Maybe our “patience” shirt has been pushed to the back of the closet. Or perhaps our favorite old pair of “love” jeans haven’t been worn in a while. Just like in the “natural world” we need to go through our closet & organize things once in a while, we also need to do that with our spiritual closet.

There’s a book called “Fresh Brewed Life” by Nicole Johnson. If you haven’t ever read it, I would highly recommend it. I’ve read it several times. It’s one of those books that you can go back to & pick stuff out over and over again. But one of my favorite quotes from her is this: “What you’re passionate about was created in you to make a splash in this life that no-one else can make. Make it. Make it now!”

Nobody else can make the kind of splash that you can. That’s why we need you. We need your unique talents, passions, and gifts to make a difference in this world. So take another look into your closet and see what kind of unique style God has given you. Be the “you” this world needs.

Here’s a cookie recipe that’s a bit spendy but in my opinion, worth every penny! Also, in my humble opinion, worth every calorie. Enjoy!

White Chocolate Chip Island Cookies

Ingredients

1 2/3 c. flour

3/4 t. baking powder

1/2 t. baking soda

1/2 t. salt

3/4 c. (1 1/2 sticks) butter, softened

3/4 c. brown sugar

1/3 c. sugar

1 t. vanilla extract

1 egg

2 c. (12 oz.) white chocolate chips

1 c. toasted coconut

3/4 c. macadamia nuts

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Sprinkle 1 c. coconut on baking sheet and toast for 3-5 minutes, checking and stirring often so that it doesn’t burn. Remove from oven and let cool.

Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt in small bowl.  Beat butter, brown sugar, sugar and vanilla extract in large mixing bowl until creamy. Beat in egg. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in morsels, coconut and macadamia nuts. Bake for 8-11 minutes. Cool on wire rack. Yield: approximately 2 dozen cookies.

Pulling the covers up tight around my daughter’s face the way she likes them. Just her little wide eyes and the very top part of her nose peeking out. Tucking the blankets up and under her feet, making her all snug and cozy. I lean in and whisper to her how thankful I am that she’s mine. Leaning in, I kiss the top of her head as I say a prayer over her. In that moment He whispers to my heart: I want you to lean in to me like you lean in to her.

But leaning is kind of personal. A certain amount of vulnerability comes with it. After all, we don’t tend to lean in to people we don’t know all that well. Or trust all that well.

Leaning often means relying. Which for some of us doesn’t exactly come easily. Relying has to do with trusting. And sometimes we’ve been hurt deep enough that trusting seems more foolish than wise.

But He’s so beyond all our excuses and our hangups. He’s so much bigger than our fears. He takes our everyday moments and uses them to speak to our hearts in a way that we can’t help but hear.

He leans in to us.

He reaches out to us.

He bends down and pulls the cover up over all our insecurities and fears. He whispers words of love. And by leaning in to us, he breathes life into us.

That’s why he wants us to lean into Him. He wants us to hear those whispers. Those just barely audible moments when something incredible is said. done. created.

In us. to us. through us.

The same way our children find comfort when we lean in to them, we can find comfort as we learn to lean in to Him.

Maybe He’s got something he wants to share with you and all you need to do to hear Him is shift your body a bit closer and…lean in. 

“For anyone out there who doesn’t know where you’re going,

anyone groping in the dark, Here’s what: Trust in God.  Lean on your God!”

Isaiah 50:10

Blindsided

Caught off guard. And not for the first time.

So scandalous. So I thought.

But here in the shadow your Light casts upon me

it doesn’t seem so

Overwhelming.

Blindsided by my own heart.

So full

of rules & laws

I can’t make out the

Grace

that’s standing right before me.

What a Pharisee I’ve been. I still am.

What can wash me white as snow?

Nothing but the blood that dripped from the nails

that pierced your hands.

The same hands that ache to hold me

in my brokenness.

My regrets, my sins, my failures.

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

The only scandal that remains

Seems to be

the waywardness in me.

The other day I was enjoying a long bike ride. I headed out not really sure where I was headed.  I just knew I had to get out of town and into some woods where I could breathe some fresh air. Where my thoughts could get lost in the song of a bird sweetly chirping. It was as if my soul was calling out to me to connect to something bigger. Something pure.

Somewhere around the 5 mile point I realized I would eventually have to either turn around and follow the same route I had taken to get there, or, I would have to forge ahed and find my way back home. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to forge ahead. I didn’t want to take the same old boring path I had just come from. After all, I had seen it all already. I wanted the new and fresh path. The one with all the possibilites. The one that was yet unexplored.

But then a very subtle and yet familiar feeling came creeping into my mind. Fear. It whispered in my ear that it would just be easier to turn around. “Go the way you already know”it whispered. “What if it’s too hard this way?” “Too long?”

I decided to forge ahead. And as I crossed the road and pedaled my bike into the woods waiting for me I turned to see a deer standing perfectly still, staring at me. I slowed down and then stopped, staring back at it. Taking in the beauty and the wonder of the moment. We held our gaze for a while before the deer turned slowly, showed me his fluffy white tail, and bounded off down the hill.

And in that brief moment I realized that I would’ve never had that “moment” had I not chosen to forge ahead.

Life is like that too.

There’s times when the path ahead is unknown. Or perhaps it’s a rough, overgrown path. Maybe even one that requires us to get off our bikes and do some “pruning” before we can hop back on and make it through. But God has “moments” waiting for us when we choose to forge ahead. He has encouragement and hope just beyond the bend. There are blessings and answers to our prayers that lie ahead, along the path.

 The Road Not Taken

by:Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I love this poem. It captures such deep emotions. And although I am no poet, I can’t help but think he got just one little thing wrong in it. It’s not really the “road” itself that makes all the difference…it’s who you choose to “walk with” that makes the real difference.

Don’t let fear cause you to turn back. Don’t go back the way you came from. Have the faith to take the path in front of you, regardless of how it looks. Knowing that no matter what it holds, you won’t be walking it alone.

Hebrew 10:39 “But we are not those who turn back and are lost. We are people who have faith and are saved.”

I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed lately. I have a lot to get done in what seems like a short amount of time and I’m….Well, I’m tired. I feel the question from a girlfriend running around in my head. Do you ever feel like you’re doing a million different things but you’re not really doing any of them really well? My answer is “Yes.” My answer is “Often times I feel like that.”

But I want to do them ALL and I want to do them all REALLY WELL. And my guess is you want to do it all and really well too! I want to be SUPER mom, SUPER wife, SUPER pastor’s wife, SUPER employee, SUPER cook, SUPER writer, SUPER decorator, SUPER stylish….you get the idea. The problem is when I start trying to be SUPER at all these things, I end up being SUPER at none of them.

I have so many things to do. So little time. And yet I made the decision to find a quiet place, to sit down with my bible and journal and just be…until God refreshes me. Because I’m burned out. And the first thing that comes to mind when I speak those words is this scripture. Matthew 11:28-30 “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

And as I allow these words to work themselves out in my life I realize that the heavy and ill-fitting things that I have been walking around in, the ones that are making me so tired, they weren’t put there by Him. I put them on myself.

Tomorrow is good Friday. My son asked me the other day, “Mom, why is good Friday called “good?” There’s not really anything good about it, it’s more like sad Friday.” And after we talked a bit we both came to the conclusion that it’s not “good” like when we use the term “I had a good day.” That means that everything went smoothly, it was nice, maybe even fun. But Jesus dying on the cross for our sins is “GOOD”. It’s good- FOR US.  It’s all in who the good is directed towards. And the good of the cross is directed toward Mankind. Towards me. Towards you. His last and final work on the cross was to sacrifice a perfect life for, well, for me. A sinner. And when you think of it like that, the adjective good could be replaced with great, amazing, life-changing.

Christ died for me so that I can live freely and lightly. And if I’m spending too much time entangled with all of the ill-fitting things I have put on myself, I am robbing myself of the joy that comes in living freely and lightly. Living and learning the unforced rhythms of his grace.

With Easter around the corner the color green is springing up everywhere. It’s a symbol of “new growth.” Of something “new and fresh”. It also happens to be my favorite color. And you may be surprised to see how many times the word “green” appears in the Bible.  Romans 15:13 says, “Oh! May the God of green hope fill you up with joy, fill you up with peace, so that your believing lives, filled with the life-giving energy of the Holy Spirit, will brim over with hope!”

Ah. That’s exactly what I need. Life-giving energy that comes from the Holy Spirit. I need his green hope. His hope that is fresh and new and full of life. I need to step back and simplify things. I need to decipher between the things in my life that are important and MOST important. And when I ask God what is MOST important for me, at this stage of my life, He answers in the way only He can. With a love and an understanding that is unique to me and my circumstances. And then I can learn to have the “real rest” that he talks about as I walk with him, in His unforced rhythms of grace.

Good Friday is good because we had to have that before we could have Easter. And Easter is the very definition of “green hope.”

This Easter season my prayer for you is that you would be aware of the green hope that is available to you. Whether for the first time ever, or just as a reminder again of all that Christ has done for you. That your heart would be open to hear what He wants to speak to you, and that you would live in the “green” freedom and rest that was given by the “red”shed blood on the cross. Happy Easter!

Unanxious and unintimidated.

These two words don’t necessarily describe me. I’d like them to. I’m working on it. I’m just not quite there yet.

I’ve spent far too much time feeling anxious. I hate even admitting that, but it’s the truth. My heart starts racing, sometimes my palms get a little sweaty. Thoughts start swirling around in my head and at times I begin to actually feel physically sick. A knot begins to form in my stomach. The skin around my neck and shoulder area gets all red and blotchy. Ugh. Just writing about it is making me feel anxious!

I’ve discovered over the years that Fear and Anxiousness seem to go hand in hand. They are like best friends that don’t part ways easily. Oh that Fear, she’s a tricky one. She seems to attract so many “friends.” She kind of reminds me of the mean girl in high school that stalked the halls with her posse (anxiousness & intimidation) lurking close behind. And you just knew if “she” (FEAR) wasn’t there that her group would fall apart because she was the glue that kept them all together.

I was working on something for our upcoming ladies’ conference at our church and was looking up scriptures about beauty. 1 Peter 3:3-5 has such great insight.

“What matters is not your outer appearance-the styling of your hair, the jewelry you wear, the cut of your clothes-but your inner disposition. Cultivate inner beauty, the gentle gracious kind that God delights in.”

This is such a great verse!  Probably one you’ve heard before too. But there’s more. I kept reading and it says this,

“The holy women of old were beautiful before God that way, and were good, loyal wives to their husbands. Sarah, for instance, taking care of Abraham, would adress him as “my dear husband.”

This brings a smile to my face because I can’t help but envision Aaron (my husband) sitting in a cushy chair as I stand tall and proper next to him, waiting to serve him with an “As you wish, my dear husband” response. (Insert fanning and feeding of grapes here.) Perhaps this would be as good a time as any to let you know that for several weeks during the height of our obsession with Downton Abbey we would refer to each other as “milady” and “milord.” “I’m heading to bed honey, you coming?” “Yes, milord.”

It says that the holy women of old were beautiful before God that way. In what way? They were good, loyal wives. I want to be beautiful before God in that same way. Now obviously this doesn’t mean we have to address our husbands with “yes, my dear husband” all the time. Let’s face it. Some of us could just stand to work on not yelling out a list of needs the minute he walks in the door. So, addressing him with “yes, my dear husband” may cause him to fall over with a heart attack. But what it does mean is that we can show our “beauty” simply by being good and loyal wives. Maybe we could stand to work on greeting our husband with a hug and kiss when he walks through the door. Maybe we need to get a reign on our tongue and just refrain from complaining and criticizing. God says that’s what’s beautiful! I was reading part of a blessing prayer for women by John Piper and his prayer was this, “That, if you are married, you creatively and intelligently and sincerely support and respect your husband as deeply as obedience to Christ will allow…that you influence him spiritually primarily through your fearless tranquility and holiness and prayer.”

If we want to have a spiritual influence through our fearless tranquility then we have to say goodbye to fear. Goodbye to anxiousness, to intimidation. Verse 6 says this,

“You’ll be true daughters of Sarah if you do the same, unanxious and unintimidated.”

As we cultivate our inner beauty, the gentle gracious kind that God delights in, the anxiousness and intimidation that threatens to weigh us down, will gently slip off of us. As we cultivate our inner beauty we will be gifted with the courage & confidence that comes in knowing to whom we belong.

Father I pray that today you would show us how to creatively, intelligently and sincerely support and respect our spouses. That you would cause us to be the true daughters of Sarah that you have called us to be…unanxious….unintimidated…FEARLESS!

Unaware

Of your steadfastness

In the midst of my circumstances

my selfishness

my humaness.

Your strong and gentle arms carry me through

Unaware

Of the limitless characteristics you possess

you provide

you impart

you ARE

In a fluid movement you reach out

to where I am

And all that I was

gets lost in who you are

undone in all you are

Restoring

Freeing

Trustworthy

Creative

Powerful

Forgiving

Protecting

farther reaching than even these

for I am unaware

Jeremiah 29:4-14

Yesterday morning the sunrise was amazing. My daughter noticed it right away and brought it to my attention. We tiptoed to the living room to look out the front window at the breathtaking display of orange, yellow, purple, blue and red that had painted itself against the sky. It was beautiful. We sat in silence for a minute, just her and I, taking it all in. I looked down at her, still just staring off into the distance. And then she  turned and uttered a few thoughts that I have been wrestling with ever since.

“I suppose the baddest thing EVER would be if a mommy & a daddy were just not right for each other anymore.”

It took me a moment to catch my breath. I looked at her sweet little face as I gathered my thoughts.

“Oh honey,” I said. “Mommy and daddy are always gonna stay together, we love each other a lot.” She looked semi-convinced.

“Yeah, mommy, I know. But some people just aren’t right for each other anymore and they have to break up.”

What? How has this thought crept its way into her mind?

We continued to have a conversation about “break ups” or the word she was really struggling to define, but didn’t even know it, divorce.

And as we talked, my heart was a little heavy. Heavy because in a sense, a bit of her innocence had been lost. Heavy because of the wording she used. Just not right for each other anymore.

I’m not writing this to condemn divorce. I believe, biblically speaking, that there are situations where divorce is a viable option for some. What makes my heart so heavy is what I believe is revealed behind the thought “we just aren’t right for each other anymore.” A lack of commitment. Which, I believe, stems from selfishness.

We live in an age where our word, our commitments seem to mean less and less. We have this mentality that if things get tough, then we have the “right” to get out of it. We want things to be easy. We want them to be comfortable. We’re a bit selfish.

And I have to tell you that I struggle with this in my own life. Selfishness. It rears it’s ugly head in my parenting more often than I’d like to admit. Sometimes in my relationships. With my husband and with my friends…sometimes I’m selfish. My personal time. I’m often selfish with that.

But what the conversation with my daughter reminded me of is this: think sunrise. The morning. The new beginning. The fresh start. I can make the decision each day to stick with my commitments and to be less selfish.

1 Samuel chapter 2 says, “He rekindles burned out lives with fresh hope.”
His mercies are new every morning as Lamentations chapter 3 says.

 Psalm 32 says this,

Count yourself lucky, how happy you must be—
you get a fresh start,
your slate’s wiped clean.

This morning was wonderful. I got up early, while everyone else was sleeping, put on some worship music, sat down with my bible in front of the Christmas tree, and enjoyed a steaming hot cup of tea.

I was reading the Christmas story in Luke chapter 2 and came upon a phrase that has seemed to always just kinda resonate with me and draw me in. The shepherds had come and found Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus laying in the manger. They left telling everyone they met what the angels had said about the child. And all who heard the sheepherders were impressed. Then in verse 19 it says this “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” 

I’m not exactly sure why this verse always seems to seize my heart and my attention. Maybe it’s the stark contrast between the quietness of her heart and all the excitement and joyful celebration that is surrounding her. The earlier part of the chapter is full of heavenly angel choirs singing and proclaiming. But here, in this tiny & even easily overlooked verse Mary is taking a moment for herself. She is remembering. Her mind is probably replaying the events that began this incredible journey.  She’s remembering the words first said to her by the angel Gabriel. “Good morning! You’re beautiful with God’s beauty, beautiful inside and out! God be with you. She’s remembering the fear that accompanied the greeting. And then she’s replaying the conversation that followed. “Mary, you have nothing to fear. God has a surprise for you: You will become pregnant and give birth to a son and call his name Jesus.” She’s remembering the questions she had. “But how can this be? I’ve never slept with a man.” And then she’s recalling, with a deep sense of thankfulness and perhaps a smile spreading across her face of the words of the angel answering, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, the power of the Highest hover over you; Therefore, the child you bring to birth will be called Holy, Son of God.” 

There’s something about remembering, about looking back and acknowledging that takes a simple moment and makes it almost holy. I can’t help but think that as she was treasuring up these things and pondering them in her heart that she was filled with an overwhelming sense of God’s faithfulness to her. That she was able to acknowledge that without Him guiding her, without His support, she never would’ve made it through all the stares, the pointing and the conversations that took place behind her back about her being with child and without a husband.

Remembering is good. It’s why at Christmas time we reread the story of baby Jesus being born. Most of us have probably read Luke chapter 2 many times. It’s not that we don’t know, it’s that we need to be reminded. As humans we have a tendency to do that. It’s important to stop, to quiet ourselves and to reflect.

For me, journaling is a great way to do this. I can look back over last year and read about the things that were heavy on my heart, the joys & blessings that filled my life and all the amazing ways that God has answered my prayers. Writing it down cements it in my mind and my heart.

This morning I took a moment for myself. I looked back over my journal from this past year and I was able to see so many ways that God worked out his grace and faithfulness in my heart and life. I was able to see the fears & the questions I had, much like Mary. But I was also able to see the ways that God comforted and guided me through those times. This past year has been full of many things. Like so many, this past year has had moments of hurt, confusion, pain and loss. But one thing that has remained through it all. God’s love. His love for me. His love for this world. A world he came to in the form of a baby boy so many years ago. And so I echo the words of my Savior’s mother that were said so long ago and yet reveal my heart still today, “I am the Lord’s servant. May His word to me be fulfilled.”

Mary’s excitement matches mine this year. Because although our experiences do not exactly match each other in detail, they match entirely in His love for us. His blessings and favor on us, they are the same. So as Mary said, “I’m bursting with God-news; I’m dancing the song of my Savior God. God took one look at me, and look what happened–I’m the most fortunate woman on earth! What God has done for me will never be forgotten, the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others. His mercy flows in wave after wave on those who are in awe before him.”

May his mercy flow in waves over you this Christmas season and all year long. Merry Christmas!

Like most moms, I have spent this weekend loving on my kids a little more. Their sweet little faces have been cradled in my hands and I just can’t stop the hugs and kisses from pouring out.

 I went upstairs last night to tuck in my oldest son. The lights were out and I was trying to contain the emotions that were bubbling at the surface. My son asked me, “Mommy, did you just get out of the shower? Your face is all wet.” And suddenly the tears that I had been trying so hard to keep at bay came rushing out.  I shared with him the tragic events that took place in Connecticut on Friday morning. I tried to explain it in a way that a 9-year old mind could comprehend. But I found the task daunting as my own 35-year old mind struggles to make sense of it all.

He had some questions and he also had some fears. I spent a little longer than usual on “tuck in time” this particular night. Tickling his back. Thanking God for his life. And then choking back tears as a picture of one of the little boys whose life was taken flashed through my mind.

I was getting ready for church this morning and I turned the news on for a bit. The nightmare that played itself out in real life came crashing into my home, into my heart again.

So it was that I found my heart heavy and weary, much like my physical body, as I lumbered my way into church this morning. I was feeling overwhelmed by the sadness, the darkness, the loss.

But somewhere between a hug from one of my 3rd grade girls and the beginning of our kid’s worship service, my heart began to swell with an emotion that had been hiding out for the last two days. Hope.

The kids started worshipping God. They were singing, laughing, jumping. And the joy on their faces started to match the hope in my heart. The upbeat song turned to a slower one and their little heads began to bow. All around the room their small hands started popping up, raised high in the air. And it struck me so hard, so fast that it nearly took my breath away. For a moment I was overcome with such a deep and amazing sense of hope that it quite honestly seemed to fly in the face of reason. But hope, true hope, the kind we find in the finished work of Christ on the cross, does exactly that. It flies in the face of reason. Even amidst terrible tragedy and senseless loss, in our darkest hour, in God, there is hope.

John 1:1-5 “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ² He was with God in the beginning. ³ Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. ⁴ In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

As I was watching the kids worship God I was struck with a determination to do my part to be a light in this world. I was determined to encourage these kids to be a light in their homes, in their schools and in their communities. Because after all the discussions have been had regarding gun control, mental illness and school security measures, there will still be one factor that remains. We live in a broken world. A fallen world. Darkness. And the only way to fight darkness is with light.

In the days and weeks that come my heart & prayers will be with those families, friends and community that lost so much. I will be praying that the Holy Spirit would comfort them as only he can. I will be praying for our nation & our leaders that God would inspire them with divine wisdom. But I will also do my part, in my own little sliver of this world, to let my light shine. I will realize the importance of my role. I will take some responsibility for the lives that I come in contact with. I will encourage my own children, yes, but I will also encourage my neighbor kids, the lives at the preschool where I work, the quiet little girl who comes to kids church and sits in the back by herself. I will do my best to show them how to let their light shine.

The kids sing a song in kid’s church with some pretty powerful lyrics. You should hear them belt out “Let Your Light Shine.” They sing with such passion and trust. Sometimes we as adults can learn more in a few minutes of worshipping with kids than we can over hours worth of “grown up” discussions. Today was one of those days for me.

Let Your Light Shine

Holiday Biscotti Recipe

This is a favorite Christmas cookie recipe in our house. It’s a bit of a process, but worth it! These holiday biscotti are so delicious and flavorful I’m willing to bet they’ll be a new “favorite” in your house too! Here’s the recipe…

• 1/4. c. butter, softened
• 1 c. sugar
• 1 t. baking powder
• 1/2 t. baking soda
• 1/4 t. salt
• 3 eggs
• 1/2 t. vanilla
• 1/4. t. almond extract
• 2 1/2 c. flour
• 1 1/2 t. anise seed
• 1/2 t. fennel seed
• 1 c. dried cranberries
• 3/4 c. pistachios, shelled
• 1/2 c. dried apricots, snipped (I sometimes omit these if I don’t have them on hand & I think the biscotti is just as tasty without them. But, if you’re a apricot fan, by all means, throw them in!
• 1 egg
• 1 T. water

1. In a large mixing bowl beat butter with an electric mixer on medium to high speed for 30 seconds. Add sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt; beat until combined.  Beat in the 3 eggs, vanilla and almond extract until combined. Beat in as much of the flour as you can with the mixer. Stir in any remaining flour with a wooden spoon.  Then stir in the anise and fennel seed, the cranberries, pistachios and apricots. Cover and refrigerate for 2 hours or until dough is easy to handle.

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Divide dough in half.  Shape each half into a 12-inch long log about 1 1/2 inches. Place logs 3 inches apart on a lightly greased cookie sheet. Flatten each log to a 1/4 inch thick loaf.  Combine the 1 egg and 1 tablespoon water.  Brush egg mixture over loaves.

3. Bake in a preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes or until light brown.  Cool loaves on cookie sheet for 1 hour or until completely cool.

4. When loaves are cool, preheat oven to 325 degrees. Transfer loaves to a cutting board. Cut each loaf diagonally in 1/2 inch thick slices. Lay slices, cut sides down, on cookie sheet. Bake in the preheated oven for 5 minutes. Turn slices over; bake for 5 minutes more or until biscotti are dry and crisp. Transfer to wire rack; cool. Recipe makes about 3 dozen.

5. Here’s the step I added. Melt white chocolate according to package directions and drizzle over the biscotti. Let chocolate harden before storing. To store: Place in layers separated by waxed paper in an airtight container; cover. Store at room temperature for up to three days or freeze for up to three months. (Or, if you live in MN in the winter, store in garage or breezeway and they will be good for a full month! ;))

6. Enjoy! Bring them out and add them to your “cookie tray” for your next holiday gathering & “wow” your friends.

My heart is heavy. A friend is going through a great loss and it’s one that I’ve experienced myself before. Although it’s been 9 years since it happened, I find myself reliving that experience again. The day I learned that the baby I was carrying inside me no longer had life. The dreams and plans I had made for us as a family shriveling up and dying quicker than they had first arrived. Suddenly, and without warning, I was no longer a “mom.”  And the very core of my being felt hollow, lifeless like the baby inside me.

And so my heart is heavy right now for my friend. A friend who has just begun her journey of grief. Because I know there will probably be some moments of anger. Anger at God. Anger at those around her. Anger at the situation. There will probably also be moments when the hurt & pain seem so deep that she will literally ache for the child she never got to hold. There will be moments when she wonders why God would allow this to happen. Why someone who has loved and served Him and sacrificed for Him would have to endure something so heart wrenching.

But what she doesn’t know yet is that there will come a time, in her future, when the very remembrance of that life lost will stir up within her sweet memories of God’s amazing grace. That that there will come a time when remembering will be accompanied with it a deep, strong abiding sense of His faithfulness.

What she will discover is that God is not offended by our anger, our questions or even our indifference toward Him. He is not unable to handle our heartache. There is not a worry or fear too big for Him. What she will discover, as she continues to walk out her grief journey is that her ability to see God in a new way will be a direct result of her vantage point. That because of where she’s standing, she will see different facets of God’s character. And anytime we are guests to His hand at work in our lives our posture can be nothing but that of gratitude.

What I wish I could tell her, but I can’t, is that it’s going to be easy. Or quick. It will be neither of those. But the process and the journey, when she is on the other side looking back, will be the part that she holds dearest in heart. Because in that journey will come the sweet moments of God’s grace that will touch her soul like nothing else can. The journey will be marked by His loving kindness on display through individuals and situations that are uniquely orchestrated for her.

What I can tell her is that she can walk in the security and knowledge that God will go through it with her. What I can remind her of is His promise in Psalm 34:18.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” The Message version says, “If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.”

And what a promise this is! For any and all of us today who find ourselves brokenhearted, God is right there. He is near to you. He is near to me. He will help us catch our breath.

So to my dear friend, I would tell you today to be honest and be real. Wrestle with it. Because you serve a God who desires, above all else, to have a personal and real relationship with you. Wrestling makes it personal.

And let his healing love cover you like a blanket…

“Quiet as warmth that comes from the sun, silent as dew during harvest.” (Isaiah 18:5)

Favor. It’s a word we don’t really use a lot in today’s society. But it’s something I’ve been praying for lately. The favor of God that is. I’m finishing up a book by Mark Batterson entitled “Circle Maker.” In it the author refers to the favor of God as “God doing something for you that you cannot do for yourself.” I want that. I want God working on my behalf to grant me favor in my family, in my marriage and in my community. I want his favor to rest on Cornerstone Church that we may continue to touch our town for God’s glory. I want Him to do something that I cannot do for myself. I want his favor.

I’ve been circling promises regarding God’s favor recently. I’ve been praying them over myself and my family and my church family. But, as I was searching scripture, I found an incredible promise.

Proverbs 18:22 says this, “Find a good spouse, you find a good life-and even more: the favor of God.”

What an incredible verse. I really wasn’t expecting to stumble upon that one. In fact, I had to re-read it to make sure it said what I thought it did. And as I was praying through that verse I felt God whisper to me. Here I was praying for the favor of God because I believe it’s such an incredible and powerful gift BUT…and this is where God just kinda tucked this truth into my heart- I can actually “be” that favor for my husband by being a great spouse. That’s a little mind blowing to me.

Another definition for favor is having an advantage; a benefit. I want to be that for my husband. I want him to regard me as a benefit and an advantage to him and to his calling as a pastor. I don’t want to be a whiner, a complainer or a wife that’s hard to live with. Although, admittedly there are times when I resemble this far more than the “favor” I am asking to be.

Proverbs 21:9 says this, “It’s better to live alone in a tumbledown shack than share a mansion with a nagging spouse.”

Those are tough words. I don’t want to be a nag, I want to be a support. Another definition of favor is this: to make easier or more possible; to facilitate. That’s what I want, what I desire. I want to make things easier for my husband, to link arms with him and work alongside him to help make his God given dreams come true; to be a facilitator.

Here’s a few of my favorite verses regarding God’s favor.

“You have granted me life and FAVOR and Your care has preserved my spirit.” Job 10:12

“For you, O Lord, will bless the righteous; with FAVOR You will surround him as with a shield.” Psalm 5:12

“For His anger is but for a moment, His FAVOR is for life.” Psalm 30:5

“Generous to a fault you lavish your FAVOR on all creatures.” Psalm 145:16

There are so many amazing promises in the Bible about His favor! As you go through your day today know this: God desires to cover your life with His favor. All we have to do is ask Him for it. And if you’re married then you have an amazing opportunity today- You can be the favor of God for your spouse! By being a good spouse we can be the benefit, the advantage and ultimately the blessing that we are called to be. May the “favor of him who dwelt in the burning bush” (Deuteronomy 33:16) be upon you today.

I’ve been reading the book [easyazon-link asin=”0310333024″]The Circle Maker[/easyazon-link]by Mark Batterson lately. In it he shares a saying that’s been passed down in his family for generations and it goes something like this “You can’t never always sometimes tell.”  Translated it essentially means this: Anything could happen. And when applied to our prayer life this phrase holds a holy expectation that God can at any time, in any way, show up and do the unexpected.

When’s the last time you felt like that? When you felt like anything could happen at any moment.That the dream you’ve been holding onto for years could come true at any moment.  That the prayer that you’ve been praying for decades is on the verge of being answered? I don’t know about you, but it’s been too long since I’ve prayed with that kind of true expectancy accompanying it.

There is both power and surprise in prayer. When you circle a promise in prayer, then anything can happen. The “surprise”here is not one that jumps out at us & shocks us because we don’t believe it will happen. The surprise lies in the fact that we have no idea where or how God is going to do it. The shock factor is in the revelation of just how amazing and creative God gets in his answers. And I think for many of us, the element of “surprise” is what’s missing in our prayers. We believe He can but do we believe He will? Our anticipation for the answered prayer, the miracle we’re waiting for, is greatly lacking.

One of the reasons I believe our anticipation wanes is the fact that we seem to take our every day miracles for granted. Or, as Mark Batterson likes to call them, our “manna miracles.”  The kind that happen day in and day out. The kind that seem to lose their “luster” in our eyes because we’ve become too accustomed to them. Take the Israelites for example. What a sorry bunch! Here God was providing a miracle, causing manna to fall out of the sky for them to eat each and every day. And instead of thanking God for the miracle they had, they were busy complaining about something else they wanted. You would think the Israelites would have been happy with whatever food there was to eat considering the fact they were no longer slaves. They were finally free!  And yet instead, In Exodus chapter 16 we find them very dissatisfied. Verse 2 says, “The whole company of Israel complained against Moses and Aaron there in the wilderness. The Israelites said, “Why didn’t God let us die in comfort in Egypt where we had lamb stew and all the bread we could eat? You’ve brought us out into this wilderness to starve us to death, the whole company of Israel!”

Wow.  They had just been set free from the tyranny of the Egyptians, no longer being beaten or made to work grueling hours in horrible conditions and all they could think of was their stomachs? In Numbers 11:4-6 it says this, “The riffraff among the people had a craving and soon they had the People of Israel whining, “Why can’t we have meat? We ate fish in Egypt—and got it free!—to say nothing of the cucumbers and melons, the leeks and onions and garlic. But nothing tastes good out here; all we get is manna, manna, manna.” They sound like a 2-year-old taking a fit! And like most toddlers who are taken to fits, they were focused only on themselves and their wants. Daily living had taken it’s toll and their focus had shifted inward, onto themselves. They needed a fresh perspective.

And that’s exactly what happens to us at times. We read the story of the Israelites complaining and we’re a little amazed at how ungrateful they are. But really, don’t we do the same thing?  Don’t we sometimes turn a blind eye to all the blessings we have only to focus on the one thing we don’t? Doesn’t the daily grind sometimes take its toll on us and slowly but surely our focus begins to shift inward. We start looking to our own interests instead of the interest of others. And when we’re focused inward we can’t see the miracles that God is doing all around us. We miss out on all that God’s up to.

The best thing for us to do when we find ourselves in this place is dig in to His word and the promises He has made. In prayer ourperspective gets an overhaul. Matthew 6:6 is one of my favorite scriptures. It says, “Here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace.” I love this verse because it’s a promise we can circle. He promises us that when we get before God and come just as we are we can be assured that our focus will shift off of ourselves and onto God. Talk about a “manna miracle”. And what comes next? He promises we will begin to sense his grace. And His grace has the ability to grow in us an excitement, a holy anticipation for all the promises we have yet to claim. Prayer can add the element of surprise to our lives that we all seek. And when we begin to pray expectantly to God (a God who Ephesians 3:20 tells us is able to immeasurably more than we could ever ask or think!!) well…you know, You Can’t Never Always Sometimes Tell!

Just gave myself a “time out” from my middle child. My adorable, high energy, too smart for his own britches, strong willed child.  As I’m writing this the tears are falling onto my laptop because, well, I just can’t seem to stop them today.

Parenting is the toughest job you’ll ever have. That’s what everyone always says. What they don’t say is that by “toughest” they mean the most exhausting and exhilarating job you’ll ever have.  And usually both at the same time. They don’t say that you’ll learn more about yourself than you ever really cared to. But you will. Because truth be told, one of the things that makes parenting so hard is the ability it has to expose us as parents. The ability to bring to light our own areas of weakness, our own selfish motives, our own bad attitudes.

When I’m disciplining my son for a shortcoming I see in his behavior or character and I sense a check in my spirit that it’s something I still need to work on myself, I become exposed. When we’re working on anger issues with our children and we find ourselves wanting to punch something hard or scream with frustration, we are exposed. When we’re helping our children learn about forgiveness and we are reminded of someone we need to forgive, again, exposed.

And sometimes being exposed ourselves, in the midst of everything else life is throwing at us, feels a bit overwhelming. But we have this promise, this hope.

“God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning! How great your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22

I am so thankful for fresh starts, new beginnings, even if it’s just the beginning of a new day.  Sometimes all we need is just the knowledge that we get to start again “fresh” tomorrow.

Psalm 51:10 “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”

I am thankful that I serve a God who can cleanse my heart & set me right again, can renew a right spirit within me. As quickly as I ask, he can answer.

[easyazon-image-link asin=”B001J1O8C0″ alt=”Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde (1932)” src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51adVjBYGfL.jpg” align=”left” width=”360″ height=”500″]And I have to guess that my kids are probably just as happy about getting “fresh starts” as I am. Because our kids are human too, and so they have their “off” days like the rest of us. The great thing about kids is their ability to bounce back. They can have a really pretty rotten day and then the next morning wake up all sweet and obedient.  And though at times I refer to this as their “Jekyll & Hyde” syndrome, most days I wish I was more like that.  Able to just let go of the past and ready to move on and embrace the future, with nothing weighing me down.  So, as I journey on in my parenting I find that my kids are constantly teaching me something. Funny, because I thought I was the one who was supposed to be teaching them. But I guess the truth is, we’re teaching each other.  It’s a learning process that oscillates between child and parent.

And ultimately, my goal is to give them the tools that I use myself when I am in need of a time out. I want to show them scriptures like the ones mentioned earlier. To explain the promises, the hope, the power we have in Christ. I want them to know, in the very depths of their souls, that God’s love couldn’t have run out on them, that his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. Because he is faithful, and his mercies are new every morning!

For God has not given me a spirit of fear. But of power, of love and of a sound mind.

I remind myself of this a lot.  Over the years I have dealt with many different faces of fear. It’s been about 4 years now since we had someone break into our home. It was in the middle of the night and my entire family was there, sleeping.  The intruders left behind an axe that they had brought with them which was unsettling. But that wasn’t the only thing they left behind that day. They also left behind a heart gripped by fear.

It was almost 3 months later before I would sleep through the night again. Fear had found a place in my heart and mind.  It was slowly eating away at me. Like I said, I am familiar with fear. It’s something that has kind of followed me my whole life, taking on different faces at different stages of my life.  But this was new territory for me because suddenly a fear of mine had become a reality. And I wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

I would find myself bolting up in bed in the middle of the night, confident that someone was breaking into our house. There were times that I would go and check on my kids to make sure they were safe and times when I was literally so crippled by fear that I couldn’t even move. Sometimes I would wake up my husband and he would do a “check” around the house to set my mind at ease. Often we would pray together. But always I would find myself repeating scripture over and over again to help settle my mind. At times all I could remember was a single verse and so I would repeat it over and over again until the truth of it settled on my heart.

Psalm 27:1 “The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid?”

Psalm 34:4 “God met me more than halfway, he freed me from my anxious fears.”

The other night I woke up with the feeling that someone was in our house again. I tried nudging Aaron but he was sleeping soundly and I decided not to bother him.  Instead, I found myself thinking on scriptures and repeating

2 Timothy 1:7, “For God has not given me a spirit of fear but of power and love and a sound mind.

And the Holy Spirit just emphasized in my heart the three things that scripture says that God has given me. First, he has given me power. Psalm 68:35 says, “He gives power and might to his people!” He has also given me love.

1 John 4:18 says, “There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear.”

And lastly, he has given me a sound mind.

Proverbs 14:30 says, “A sound mind makes for a robust body, but runaway emotions corrode the bones.”

I wish I could say I never deal with fear anymore. But the truth is, I still do.  What I can say now is that when fear begins to push in on me, I am able to stand upon the word of God and fight it with the truth.  When my mind starts replaying the details of that night I can change my thought pattern and focus on the good that happened that night as well.  Because God was protecting myself and my family that night. None of us were hurt. My children slept through the entire incident which was a miracle in and of itself considering their dad was running around the house yelling for whoever was there to get out! And then there were the squad cars, the policemen going in and out, and even a canine unit. And my kids slept through the whole thing. Who knows what could’ve happened that night.  But when my mind starts wandering I move to what DID happen that night. God protected us. He was right there with us. And he’s not a one shot wonder. He didn’t just happen to get lucky and be there on that night, he’s right there with me every night.  I can trust him with my life because he gave his son’s life for me.

Today I pray God’s peace and love over every fear.  Whether it be a fear of things in the past, present or the future. Whether it be fear of man or man’s opinion of you.  Whether it be fear of failing or fear of succeeding.  Whether it be a fear of the unknown or a fear of all you’ve ever known. God’s love is well-formed love and that is the kind of love that banishes fear. So you can rest well tonight my friend. He’s got it under control.

We’ve been slightly obsessed with sharks around here lately.  I wish I could take the credit but it’s mostly due to my 5-year old daughter Hannah, who thinks they are the most fascinating creatures on the planet. She first became interested in them after our family watched an episode of National Geographic’s Shark Men.

I recall one particular day, shortly after she started watching Shark Men, Shark Week and any other show with the word shark in it, where I was a bit taken aback by the graphic nature of it (specifically the bloodied waters surrounding a shark attack.) I said, “Hannah honey, I’m not sure we should be watching this show, it’s a little intense.  Maybe we could find another show about sharks that’s a little more appropriate for you.”  And my then 4-year old daughter looked right at me and said, “It’s okay mommy. If you need to go upstairs and not watch anymore I understand. Sharks can be kinda scary for some people. But they don’t scare me, I love them!” Huh? So, being the responsible parent that I am, I left her to her shark show and went upstairs to find something else to do.

[easyazon-image-link asin=”B008IYPA9Q” alt=”Bay of the Fighting Sharks (HD)” src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51l7%2BA8QNVL._SL160_.jpg” align=”left” width=”160″ height=”135″]Lately it’s been Shark Wranglers that has drawn the attention of both my husband & I.  This show follows Chris Fischer & his team as they have 40 days to catch and tag 50 great white sharks.  It’s amazing the determination and tenacity of these people to complete their task.  Last night as we’re watching an episode my husband turns and says to me, “You know sharks can’t stop moving or else they die.” What??!!!?? Partially because I just have a hard time taking him at his word and partially because well, if you know my husband at all you know he has a tendency to exaggerate the truth from time to time, I am inclined to not believe him.  He knows this already so he says, “Google it.”  Done.

How is it that I can be 35 years old and not know this? The older I get the more alarmed I become at all the information I carelessly tossed aside when I was younger because I was busy daydreaming about my future or some silly boy. Most likely the combination of the two, but regardless, I was stupid.  Now I can’t get enough of history and science and I am fascinated when learning about animals.

At this point I’m still fairly certain my husband is mistaken and I come up with a really clever question for him. “Well then, how do they sleep?!!??” Huh, smarty pants? I’m thinking I really got him on this one because they have to sleep and they can’t possibly sleep while they’re moving. Can they?

Well here’s what I learned. Sharks sleep differently than we do. Sharks need to keep water moving over their gills to receive necessary oxygen. Not all sharks need to move constantly, though. Some sharks have spiracles, a small opening behind their eyes, that force water across the shark’s gills so the shark can be still when it rests. Other sharks do need to swim constantly to keep water moving over their gills and their bodies, and they have active and restful periods rather than undergoing deep sleep like we do. They seem to be “sleep swimming,” having parts of their brain less active while they remain swimming. Wow.

So my husband is right, again. It’s getting old. But I am beginning to think through the implications of this. Our God, the Creator of the universe, not only creates these amazing animals but he follows through down to the tiniest detail of each species.  I mean he’s made a way for the sharks who don’t have spiracles to be able to continue swimming even when they’re sleeping.  And instead of just sticking with the normal method of sleeping he comes up with an entirely new approach.  Let’s have them continue swimming, because they have to in order to survive, but let’s have part of their brain become less active & allow them some rest even while they are still physically moving. I’m sorry but that’s sweet!  And I’m struck again by the intimacy & the unique details he puts into not only sharks, but mankind.  I love Psalms 36:5.  It says this,

“God’s love is meteoric,  his loyalty astronomic, his purpose titanic, his verdicts oceanic. Yet in his largeness nothing gets lost.”

How can this be?  How can he be so vast and encompassing and yet at the same time so involved with the small & intimate details of our lives?

It brings me a great deal of hope and a lot of comfort to know that in his largeness nothing gets lost.  He is God over the universe and God over my parenting. He is God over the government of this land and God over the financial matters of my little family.  He is God over the transgressions of our nation and God over my personal sins and failures. He is God over the lost souls of the world and God over my neighbors who don’t know his love…yet. He is over it all and nothing gets lost.  Just think, if he can come up with “sleep swimming” for the sharks then imagine what he’s capable of doing for us.

And don’t forget to check out the premiere of Shark Week on August 12 over at Discovery Channel.  You won’t want to miss it!

Look at what my son just picked from our garden…

our first fresh garden tomato of the season! Now, I know some of you reading are not huge tomato fans and I “get that.” Well, I get not liking tomatoes bought from Wal-mart or some other such grocery store, especially during the winter months when their color isn’t even really in the red family anymore.  But, I am entirely confused about anyone not liking tomatoes that are fresh from the vine, grown in your backyard garden and picked by your own hands. They are nothing like their counterpart.  They are literally on a different playing field. Yum! Growing up we used to slice them and sprinkle a little salt on them.  This was a favorite summer “snack” in our family.  If you love tomatoes as much as I do (and perhaps even if you don’t) I have the perfect side dish for you:

Marinated Tomatoes Recipe

Ingredients:

• 6 large tomatoes, sliced
• 1/4 c. green onions
• 1/2 t. dried thyme
• 1 garlic clove (or if you’re a garlic lover like me, 2-3 cloves:))
• 1/4 c. minced parsley
• 1 t. salt
• 1/4 t. fresh cracked black pepper
• 1/4 c. red wine vinegar
• 1/3 c. vegetable oil

Directions:

Combine and whisk all ingredients except the tomatoes.  Next, add the sliced tomatoes and let them “marinate” in the dressing for about 20 minutes.  If you don’t have time to let them sit, it’s fine. They still taste delicious!  The time in the marinade just allows the tomatoes to soak up more of the flavor. I’ve found that if you whip up this recipe and then let it sit in the fridge while you grill your meat, the tomatoes have just about the perfect amount of time to soak up all the yummy flavors of the marinade. Add a starch like some bread or potato and you have yourself a meal. This is such a great side dish to any summer meal. Enjoy!

I’ve been praying lately that God would show me how to “do life.” I mean how to really do life well. Too many times I get caught up in things that don’t really matter and I spend too much time looking around to other people, other places to tell me or show me how I should live. Sometimes I get distracted by things that I enjoy, comforts really, and the truly important things start to lose their focus.

A lot of times I get caught up in comparing myself with others.  But then I remind myself that I have “far more interesting things to do with my life and that I am an original.” Galatians 5:25,26  We all have better things to do. We are all originals.

Some days I’m tired. I’m worn out, burned out on religion. And those are the days that He says come. He says get away with me and you’ll recover your life. Matthew 11:28-30 says he’ll show me, he’ll show you, how to take a real rest.  He tells us to walk with him and work with him, to watch how he does it.  And here comes the best part…He says we can learn the unforced rhythms of grace. Have you ever heard of anything more wonderful & beautiful in all your life?!! The key word here is learn. It’s not instantaneous (like I would sometimes like it to be) it’s a process. He says we will learn it as we walk with him and work with him. He promises not to lay anything heavy or ill fitting on us. If we keep company with him we’ll learn to live freely and lightly. And I can’t help but think that must be the way to “do life.” I mean to really do life well.  

The amazing thing about God is he tells us how to do life and then he tells us what happens when we do it his way. He gives us gifts. So many amazing gifts.  So, I don’t need to worry. I shouldn’t be distracted.  And I’m wasting everyone’s time by comparing. He promises you and I that we will find ourselves involved in loyal commitments and that we won’t have to force our way in life. We’ll be able to direct our energies wisely, as we learn the unforced rhythms of grace. Now that’s what I call “doing life well.”

Galatians 5:22-23

But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely.

Making Sunday lunch is always a little daunting to me.  I always dream of having a big delicious meal ready & waiting for us after church.  That is rarely the case.  Sunday mornings in our house with my husband being a pastor means he leaves before I am even thinking of getting out of bed.

  And with myself and three young children to get ready, if we can manage to get to the car with everyone alive and nobody crying, then we have really accomplished something pretty amazing.However, this leaves little time for prepping a meal before I scurry out the door. So, whenever I find a delicious but easy recipe, I hold fast to it.  This is my new favorite summer pasta salad that my mom made over Memorial Day weekend.  It is a Paula Deen recipe and if you know anything about Paula Deen, you know she likes her food to taste good! But, this recipe is really pretty healthy as well. So, if you’re looking for a great meal idea, throw some chicken on the grill and slather it in some barbecue sauce and then whip up this easy salad for a great side. Simple & delicious, enjoy!

Ingredients

• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more for seasoning
• 1 pound bow tie pasta
• 1 cup store-bought balsamic vinaigrette dressing
• 1/4 cup mayonnaise
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 2 cups halved cherry tomatoes
• 1 (4-ounce) can sliced mushrooms, drained
• 2/3 cup pitted kalamata olives
• 1/2 diced green bell pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• Grated Parmesan, for topping

Directions

I had been waiting to get my hands on a new book on my Kindle for a while.  Finally a night with no prior engagements. I grabbed my blankets and drew them up close to my chin and started in.  I had only gotten about halfway through the first page when my husband, who was starting a new book himself, started laughing. I began again and got to about the same point in my book when my husband starts laughing again, quite hysterically. By this point my curiosity was getting the better of me so I turned off my [easyazon-link asin=”B005890G8Y”]Kindle[/easyazon-link] and asked him to read me a little bit from his book.

I guess you could say I was pretty much hooked after the first sentence of chapter one where the author, Peter Haas, starts off with this: “The first time I ever cussed into a church microphone was right after I became a youth pastor.”  

Maybe it was because my husband & I had served as youth pastors for several years in northern Minnesota ourselves and it brought on a rush of memories.  Maybe it was the candor in his sharing.  Perhaps it was just that I knew his book was going to elicit a few good laughs from me.  I hold in high regard anyone who has a great sense of humor.  Whatever the reason, the next morning I snagged the book from my husband’s bedside table & spent the rest of the day devouring it. And that’s how I spent my day, reading from cover to cover, Peter Haas’s new book, Pharisectomy.

[easyazon-image-link asin=”1936699443″ alt=”Pharisectomy: How to Joyfully Remove Your Inner Pharisee and other Religiously Transmitted Diseases” src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/5170mNl0bOL._SL160_.jpg” align=”left” width=”107″ height=”160″][easyazon-link asin=”1936699443″]Pharisectomy: How to Joyfully Remove Your Inner Pharisee and other Religiously Transmitted Diseases[/easyazon-link] Now I’ll tell you right now that there will be some people who won’t even pick this book up because of the title.  After all, who wants to be associated with the idea of needing to have your inner Pharisee surgically removed?  And unfortunately, the people who probably need this book the most are likely to be the same people who believe they have no need for it.  Someone perhaps like me.  A Christian who has been raised in the church her entire life.  A bible college graduate.  A pastor’s wife.  But the theme and premise of this book was something that had been stirring in my heart over the last few months. I had experienced some subtle nudgings and even a few  harsh pokes from the Holy Spirit over the last couple months while reading another amazing book, [easyazon-link asin=”0736916393″]Grace Walk: What You’ve Always Wanted in the Christian Life[/easyazon-link], by Steve McVey. [easyazon-image-link asin=”0736916393″ alt=”Grace Walk: What You’ve Always Wanted in the Christian Life” src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51Zroseb3EL._SL160_.jpg” align=”right” width=”103″ height=”160″] I had been slowly learning, perhaps relearning, a very important lesson.  Law means that I do something for God while grace means that God does something for me.  And I was learning that the approach I was embracing was having a direct result on the joy I was experiencing in my journey with Him.

You see there are two very different approaches we can take towards God’s Law. There is the legalistic approach and then there’s the grace-driven approach.  The first, the legalistic approach, occurs when we obey God’s Moral Law in order to earn God’s love and attain God’s righteousness.  This pharisaical approach is the epitome of legalism. The other option, the grace-driven approach, occurs when we understand God’s free gift of grace.  Understanding this approach will cause us to realize that our righteousness has nothing to do with our behavior. The author, Peter Haas says this, “The difference between a Pharisee and a Christian is not that one teaches the Law and the other doesn’t.  Rather, the difference is in how the Law is taught and the motives that drive our obedience to the Law.” And so for many of us who have been in church for a while, it can become easy to neglect the subtle nuances between whether our works are deriving from a place of  “I have to” or “I get to.”  I love how the author sums it up like this, “In Christ, faith is our only obligation; the rest of God’s Law is celebration.”

In the fourth chapter of his book, titled, “Checkbook Christianity”, Haas talks about the idea of people being like checking accounts.  His point is that you’ve got to make “deposits” in people before you can make “withdrawls.”  By making deposits into people’s lives we earn the right to teach truth.  Without this “love deposit” our truth can actually cause rebellion in a person.  Haas says, “Truth was never meant to be delivered outside of the context of a loving community.” Speaking truth is easy, earning the right to speak truth takes time and effort.

In his chapter titled “Christians vs. Children of God”, Haas lists 3 cautions in remaining healthy followers of Christ. Caution #1: If you judge based on format or style instead of fruitfulness, you’ll miss God. Caution #2: When you judge, you become isolated from the grace of God in other people. And lastly, Caution 3#:You can’t antagonize & influence at the same time.

One of my favorite chapters of the entire book was Chapter 6 entitled, “The Art of Hedge Making.”  In this chapter the author discusses classic behaviors of a well-meaning legalist.  He starts out the chapter discussing the idea of not all beliefs being equally important.  He does this in a very easy to understand way with his belief continuum.  Basically, the continuum starts with Fundamentals which are the essentials, and then works its way down the chart to Inferences, Speculations, and Opinions which gradually become less and less essential.   Haas brings it all together by stating this, “But, in light of these varying levels of belief, it’s important to understand: Every human being has the sinful tendency to take their opinions, inferences, and speculations and pass them off as fundamentals.”

The author points out that having boundaries or “hedges” isn’t the problem.  The problem occurs when we take and force those personal convictions onto other people.  According to Haas, there are 5 ways that “hedge making” can hurt us.  The first is that it often becomes a substitute to for listening to the Holy Spirit or discerning God’s will.  The second, hedge making can cause people to seek God’s word less.  Third, it causes your church to become an elitist. Fourth, it causes churches to become a hostile place for skeptics and new believers. And lastly, church becomes the ultimate distraction from God’s mission.

In chapters 7 & 8, Haas examines something he refers to as a “pet purpose.”  We all have one. A pet purpose is not a bad thing.  It is essentially a function of the body of Christ that specifically inspires you.  But as Haas states, the problem lies when “Christians or churches get so overcommitted to their pet purpose that they start to define it as more spiritual than others.” When this happens our “pet purpose” becomes a “rabid pet purpose.”

Haas takes a minute in his book to go over the five main themes to a biblical church.  These themes are taken from the book Purpose Driven Church by Rick Warren.  They include evangelism, fellowship, discipleship, ministry and worship.  If you want to be a healthy, biblical church, then the aim is to develop all five of these themes.

The author ends these two chapters by giving three solutions to helping keep ourselves and our churches effective and free of problems.  The first is that healthy churches create “dog parks.”  Secondly, healthy churches avoid church service Christianity.  And the last is healthy churches create an others-oriented culture.

The last chapter delves into the generation gap and how we can bridge that gap in our churches. As Haas states, “There is a direct correlation between the median age of a church and its odds of reaching unchurched people.” Research has shown that receptivity to the gospel decreases with age. Studies have also shown that as churches and their leaders age, their odds of both growing and reaching unchurched people decreases. Haas shares his belief that we need to start looking for more anointed young people that we can empower. He believes that these young people will know how to reach their generation better than anyone else.

[easyazon-link asin=”1936699443″]Pharisectomy[/easyazon-link] is one of the best books I have read in years. It was thought provoking, informative & witty.  Although my personal journey of learning to remove my inner Pharisee has been a process, I believe it is one that has been God ordained.  No matter where you are in your faith walk, I believe this book will help. It will provide you with insight and a fresh perspective.  And most importantly, it will leave you with a feeling of hope.  Some of Christ’s last words are recorded in John 13:34 “A new command I give you: Love one another…By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”  We are called to be a loving community and by doing so we reveal our Father to the world around us.  When the world sees the love we have for them and for each other, they will understand God’s love.  1 Samulel 2:7 from the Message version says, “He rekindles burned-out lives with fresh hope!” Only God can do that.

If you interested in reading[easyazon-link asin=”1936699443″]Pharisectomy[/easyazon-link] or [easyazon-link asin=”0736916393″]Grace Walk[/easyazon-link] you can order them by visiting my recommended books page.  Order it and have it shipped right to your front door or send it to your[easyazon-link asin=”B0051QVESA”]Kindle[/easyazon-link] today.

I grew up on this recipe of citrus slush. It’s an oldie but a goodie. Such a delicious & refreshing way to beat the summer heat!

I was home a couple of weeks ago & my mom had 3 or 4 containers of this frozen & ready to go. My kids were begging for “slushies” all week. In fact, an old childhood friend of mine came over & jokingly asked my mom, “Hey, ya got any of that citrus slush you used to make?She couldn’t have made my mom any happier. It’s a super easy recipe and best of all can be made ahead of time and then brought out when ready to serve. An especially great beverage idea for all those summer b-b-q parties and lazy summer afternoons in your backyard. Here it is:

[sws_green_box box_size=”525″]

INGREDIENTS

2 1/2 c. sugar

3 c. water

1 (12 oz. can) frozen orange juice

1 (12 oz. can) frozen lemonade

1 46 oz. can pineapple juice

2 c. water[/sws_green_box]

[sws_green_box box_size=”525″]

DIRECTIONS

Boil sugar & water until sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat. Stir in frozen o.j. & lemonade. Then stir in pineapple juice and water & freeze.

That’s it, super easy! When you want to serve just remove from freezer & let stand at room temperature for a few minutes before serving so that it’s easier to scoop out. About 2 or 3 ice cream scoops (more or less depending on how sweet you want it) per glass & then pour a ginger ale, Sprite or Fresca over it.[/sws_green_box]

I tend to think the slushie is pretty sweet so I prefer to pair it with something like Fresca or Squirt, something a little more sour. My kids however LOVE it with Sprite, so to each his own. Enjoy!

The other day at the lake I lost something really valuable.  Something that kind of makes me ache inside to even think about.  In reality it happened in a matter of seconds but in my mind it was like being stuck in slow motion.  I was trying to will myself to catch the ring before it hit the top of the waves and sank to the bottom of the lake.

It took up residence on the ring finger of my right hand over  12 years ago.  I still have vivid memories of the night my husband gave me the ring.
We laugh about it now because there was a “disclaimer” of sorts before giving it to me. He wanted me to know that it was NOT an engagement ring. I thought that point had been rather driven home.  It had been his mother’s ring.  She had worn it.  I had worn it.  And I had hoped that perhaps my daughter would one day wear it as well. It had been a part of a set, a matching ring to the one his dad had worn and my husband himself still wears.  But now this symbol of love, this symbol of commitment & family…it sits on the bottom of a lake in Iowa.

I thought telling my husband was going to be hard.  He was the one after all, who was always telling me I should take my rings off before swimming.  And I was the one never listening.  But he took it really well.  Much better in fact, than I would have had I been in his position.  Although his first words were still, “That’s why it’s always a good idea to take your rings off before swimming.”  After feeling for the ring on my finger more than a dozen times yesterday, and coming up empty every time, I finally just broke down crying in the car. I felt so terrible. To have lost such a valuable item, something that meant so much to him especially after losing his dad several years ago, it made me ache with regret.  And true to his character, my husband looked straight at me and said what any wife in my situation would long to hear.  He said, ” I don’t need that ring. I don’t need anything. All I really need is YOU.”  It was exactly what I needed to hear.

I woke up in the middle of the night last night.  I had been dreaming I’d lost something important. And then I realized the awful truth all over again.  And as I was lying awake in bed replaying the moment again, wishing I hadn’t tossed that raft to my son Levi, wishing it hadn’t flown off my finger into the deep as I did so, wishing I had just taken it off to begin with, I began to think of the words my husband said.  And it was like God whispered to my heart, “That’s how I feel too.”  All I REALLY need is you.

He doesn’t need me plus my striving. He doesn’t need me plus my talents. He really just needs me.  Because when I give myself to him, when I surrender it all, then He has all he needs. And lying in bed last night the Holy Spirit reminded me again of his grace.  His amazing, undeserved, all encompassing grace.  All He really needs is me. Not the “me” I wish I was. Not the “me” I want people to believe I am.  Not even the “me” I am yet to be.  Just simply me. Just simply you. Maybe today that’s exactly what you need to hear. The vacant spot on my finger will be my reminder.

Most of us have played the game before.  Pretty basic idea.  One person counts while the rest hide and when the counter gets to 10…well, “ready or not!”  When my daughter first started playing this game she would hide in the same place over & over again.  She would run into her dad’s closet and slam the door behind her, giggling the whole time.

After a few rounds of her hiding in the exact same spot my oldest became frustrated.  “This really isn’t very fun mom, I know exactly where she is!” he said. So, I encouraged her to try a new hiding spot. But, she thought she had stumbled upon something pretty great and she wasn’t about to give it up to try and find a new spot.  And so, my oldest continued the game of pretending he didn’t know where she was hiding.

Recently, I was struggling with some things that had me playing my own grown-up version of the game with God.  I had my favorite “hiding spot” and I was camping out, hoping he wouldn’t find me.  Of course that’s as silly as my daughter believing that her brother didn’t know where she was hiding. But, I was letting myself believe that He couldn’t see all the ugly that I was trying so hard to hide.  Truth be told, I thought I had found the perfect hiding spot. And God was probably thinking the same thing as my oldest son. “This really isn’t very fun, I know exactly where you are!”

Have you ever come to a point where you realize the “ugly & messy” that you need to deal with is gonna take some time and some serious effort on your part?  I could feel the depth of it and I knew it was something that had been growing over the years.  Something that wasn’t gonna just be plucked out of my life with a simple prayer.  It was something that was going to need some uprooting, some tilling & some cultivating. And that’s always hard….it’s usually messy…and it’s definitely not fun.  And so I was kind of stuck in “hide out” mode, hoping I could just ignore it and go on with things.  But, the faithful seeker that He is, he kept looking.  And in that gentle & quiet way that He loves to speak, he dropped some questions into my heart. “Why are you hiding this from me?” “Is it really any easier trying to hide it than it would be to trust me with it, to talk to me about it, and to let me help you with it?”

He wasn’t walking around trying to figure out where I was.

He was trying to figure out why I was trying to hide something that He could see.

I think we do this a lot in our lives. We have things that we’re ashamed of or we feel guilty about. Areas where we’re still in the learning process & haven’t quite mastered yet.  And it seems many times our first instinct is to head straight to the closet, slam the door and hide out.  But, “ready or not, here He comes”…to remind us that He’s great at “messy”.  To remind us that he’s got a great track record of taking the “painfully difficult” and making it bearable.  To teach us that to wrestle with it is part of the process.  And maybe, even to tell us that in the midst of our ugliness, He sees something beautiful in us. So, if you’re working through something that’s kinda messy or kinda ugly, know that He already sees it & He loves you regardless.  Don’t bother with the hide & seek games, He’s standing right beside you.

Acts 17:24 “Starting from scratch, he made the entire human race and made the earth hospitable, with plenty of time and space for living so we could seek after God, and not just grope around in the dark but actually find him.  He doesn’t play hide-and-seek with us. He’s not remote; he’s near.  We live and move in him, can’t get away from him!”

It’s that time of year again.  The leaves have turned & with them the temperatures, signaling a time to once again reflect and give thanks. The weather has changed & with it so have we.  Instead of going outside & enjoying our time outdoors we start to retreat inside to our warm, cozy houses. And kind of parallel to nature, our hearts start retreating as well.  Nights are darker earlier & we find ourselves with a little more time to sit in our favorite spot in the house &  enjoy the quiet.  Time in solitude is naturally conducive to reflection. And so, we find ourselves thinking back over the past year and all of the “mountain tops” & “valleys” we’ve experienced along the way.  For some this year has been their hardest yet.  This past year has held deep hurts & longings unfulfilled.  There are those who have lost loved ones this past year and the pain is still raw.  For still others the past year has been filled with hope & restoration, perhaps even new beginnings. But no matter which of these you find yourself identifying with, this one thing is true for all of us:  “Give thanks to the Lord for He is good, for his steadfast love endures forever.”  Psalms 136:1

We have this hope.  Whether we are in a place where we can actually “feel” that way or not is entirely separate from the FACT that it is true.  We serve a God who is good & who is steadfast: fixed in intensity or direction; unswerving devotion; marked by firm determination or resolution. These are words that descirbe his love for us, love that endures forever!  If there were ever anything to give thanks for, this is it. So, whether you find yourself today trudging through a valley or enjoying that amazing mountaintop view, his steadfast love is there with you.

I watched a movie last night, kind of a new favorite of mine.  It’s called An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving and it’s based off of the book by Louisa May Alcott. Such a great movie, especially this time of year.  It’s a great reminder that the basics, like love and family, are the things that matter most.  The beginning of the book starts like this: “They were poor in money, but rich in land and love, for the wide acres of wood, corn and pasture land fed, warmed, and clothed the flock, while mutual patience, affection, and courage made the old farm-house a very happy home.”  May this Thanksgiving be one where God reminds us again of his steadfast love.

Here’s a great recipe if you like rhubarb. (And probably even if you don’t).  It’s super easy & delicious! A couple of you were asking for it and some of you I know love to bake so here goes…

Crust:

• 2 c. unsifted flour
• 3/4 c. powdered sugar
• 1 c. butter

Filling:

• 4 eggs
• 2c. sugar
• 1/2 c. unsifted flour
• 1/2 t. salt
• 4 c. diced rhubarb

For crust:

Combine flour & sugar; cut in butter until crumbs form.  Press onto bottom of 15″x 10″x1″ jelly roll pan.  Bake at 350 degrees F for 15 min.

For filling:

Blend eggs, sugar, flour & salt until smooth.  Fold in rhubarb.  Spread over hot crust; Bake for 40-45 min. at 350 degrees F until filling is lightly brown.  Cool & cut into squares.   Makes 28 bars.