'Just for Women' Articles from Heartlight

The Hands that Helped Formed Me

editor@heartlight.org (Melissa Troyer) — Tue, 28 May 2024 02:00:00 -0500

It's not in my most mountain top moments, but in the desolate, agonizing ones of inability where I've found that infilling.

I intended to find one specific photo I was looking for, but I got snagged by a video. Landon's birth video. I paused the video and looked around the room. Kids were playing, and no one was aware of what was frozen on my phone screen. I hit play and watched to the end. My heart was racing. Tears were stinging my eyes. For those that don't know, 3 out of 5 of my births have been quite difficult. A very narrow pelvis coupled with babies built with wide shoulders has made for some intense deliveries. Obviously, I sympathized royally with the woman pushing with all her physical might. But my eyes kept going to the people by my side, hands supporting and providing the assistance I could not give myself. In my most vulnerable, raw, and exposed moment in life. It was a brutal birth, one I slammed my fist into the floor and wrestled with God over. I had prayed over this very thing. Begged not to face it again. And yet. And yet, my body stayed pregnant far beyond the date I'd hoped it would observe. And yet, my baby boy grew wider and bigger inside of me. And yet, God prepared my husband and midwife and me, each individually, that we should be prepared for a dystocia, just in case. And yet. I re-watched the hardness of those moments, I remembered the extreme effort, I tasted the agony in my heart, and yet I saw God there. In my husband's calm, capable hands, even though I know his mind was racing. In my midwife's specific encouragement and guidance. In Landon's immediate grimace, cry, and then pouty lip that told me he was not only fine but royally ticked off at the unceremonious delivery. I saw a million details in that video that took me back to the sensations and emotions of that traumatic moment. Yes, it was traumatic, but instead of carrying fear from it, I carry a keen awareness of God's nearness - of His provision for the moment. This is how God invites us to live. Not as victims of trauma, constantly stuck in the horror we've walked, but as witnesses to His hand, His goodness in our darkest moments. This birth could have been like the previous one, where the tiny girl slipped out so smoothly that she beat the entire midwife team. That birth was beautiful and special in its own way. But the two births where I met my limit, and God held my hand as we crossed into His ability alone - those are the moments where I tasted motherhood most powerfully. It's not in my most mountain top moments, but in the desolate, agonizing ones of inability where I've found that infilling. The breath when I was drowning. The relief when the baby finally emerged fully into our world, where God held my hand through the darkest, most agonizing moments, made the light that followed so brilliant. I'm deeply grateful for the people around me who have helped form me into the woman I am today. For my mother, who has been that steady, faithful, prayer-filled influence, always pointing me to Jesus. For my mother-in-law, whose heart is committed to honesty and always learning and who is an incredibly rich resource of hard-earned wisdom. For my sisters and deep-hearted friends, who have offered me hours of wise counsel and years of friendship, allowed me to debrief hard moments with grace and truth, sifted the wheat from the chaff, and loved me still. For my husband, who has illustrated the closest thing to a heavenly relationship on earth- deep commitment, endless forgiveness, and more love and delight than I could ever deserve. And for the relationships that have pruned and sanded me in the most painful ways, yes, even these have brought such needed growth. I am deeply grateful for each of you. In birth, like in so many seasons, my heart and body needed people around me. Part of the surrender was accepting help and hands to support me when I could not. So many times in life, we were created to be surrounded by wise, trustworthy mortals, where we experience God through the hands and touch of humans around us. Motherhood, where I met the end of myself and the beginning of God in the flesh. This is holy, humble, life-changing ground.

About the author: Melissa Troyer is a stay at home mom with five beautiful children who keep her busy and constantly remind her to get down on her knees, both to laugh with them and to pray for them. Melissa is happily married to the love of her life, Daniel, who is currently studying full time to become a Physician's Assistant.

Melissa has learned to lean against the Father in seasons of loss and to dance through the dust in times where hope is renewed. She is passionate about worshipping in each season and often finds herself weaving words encouraging others to do the same. You can find her on Facebook. You can find more of her writing on her blog.

A Mother's Day Surprise

alansmith.servant@gmail.com (Alan Smith) — Sun, 12 May 2024 02:00:00 -0500

What is the best you can do today on Mothers' Day?

Two children ordered their mother to stay in bed one Mother's Day morning. As she lay there looking forward to being brought breakfast in bed, the smell of bacon floated up from the kitchen. Finally, the children called her to come downstairs. She found them both sitting at the table eating bacon and eggs. "As a surprise for Mother's Day," one explained, "we decided to cook our own breakfast." I don't know what you're planning for Mother's Day, but I do hope you're planning to do something special to honor her. Abraham Lincoln once said, "All that I am, or can be, I owe to my angel mother." John Gray said, "The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world." Napoleon Bonaparte said, "Let France have good mothers, and she will have good sons." And how about this Spanish proverb - "An ounce of mother is worth a pound of clergy." All of those quotations have one thing in common - they all emphasize the fact that mothers have such a powerful influence, not only over their children but over the very course of history. I don't think that's an exaggeration. Nobody - not teachers, not preachers, not psychologists - gets the same chance to mold human minds and nurture human bodies and emotions like a mother does. The results of competent mothering can truly be seen for generations.

Her children rise up and call her blessed; Her husband also, and he praises her. (Proverbs 31:28)

Moms have a great day!

About the author: Alan Smith ministers with the Church of Christ in White House, Tennessee and publishes the email devotional "Thought for the Day."

They Danced!

editor@heartlight.org (Melissa Troyer) — Tue, 07 May 2024 02:00:00 -0500

They danced while still not knowing exactly where they would even sleep that night.

When Pharaoh’s horses, chariots and horsemen went into the sea, the LORD brought the waters of the sea back over them, but the Israelites walked through the sea on dry ground. Then Miriam the prophet, Aaron’s sister, took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women followed her, with timbrels and dancing. Miriam sang to them:

“Sing to the LORD, for he is highly exalted. Both horse and driver he has hurled into the sea" (Exodus 15:19-21).

Do you know what the Israelites did as soon as they crossed the Red Sea? They danced! They lifted their hands to the vast blue sky and couldn't keep their tired, sandy feet from dancing. The song of God's deliverance pulsed through their veins. They chose gratitude before the next chapter opened. They danced while still not knowing exactly where they would even sleep that night. The promised land was still a distant dream, lost in the haze of uncertainty. They leaned into joy and celebrated instead of letting the unclear next steps steal the dance from their toes. Daniel's graduation is 102 days away. My heart thrills at the thought, much like when you finally step up to the edge of the Grand Canyon and the vastness that yawns in front of you nearly makes your toes tingle. We are almost there. Just three more rotations to go, and his last one (Cardiothoracic surgery) still thrilled him, his eyes glittering with the delight of helping broken hearts beat again. Where does this path lead? What is God preparing us for? The intensity, the deep sacrifices, and the quiet places of waiting are not lost on God. And while the path ahead curves just out of sight, God's got this. He knows exactly why He led us this way. Do you want to know a secret? I don't think this call to PA school is even for the job. I think it's for people - for touching lives, for helping others forge ahead when their journey leads through the Red Sea, for bringing healing to bodies, but more importantly, healing and comfort to souls. There's something incredibly sacred about watching God write your story - even the pages where we are reaching the bottom and running out of room, waiting with bated breath until He turns the page and reveals the next step. We will wait but with keen awe of His faithfulness. We will dance while still not knowing where this path leads. We will sing of His faithfulness because He IS faithful.

The Vast Sky Was My Teacher

editor@heartlight.org (Melissa Troyer) — Tue, 05 Mar 2024 02:00:00 -0600

The vast needs that spread wide before us? They are already in His hands.

I lay back on to the concrete and stretched my arms wide out the side. Houston's night air became shockingly fickle at times, and the darkness lent an edge to the air. Cicadas' throaty songs of the day had lulled into an abrupt hush with the arrival of darkness. My fingers spread wide against the sand-papery driveway, drinking in the warmth still radiating from the day's unrelenting sun. Strategically only inches from my hand was a frosty cup of "orange julious," as Mom called it. Fresh squeezed orange juice mixed with French vanilla ice cream- the kind that had that fancy speckling through it. Beads of condensation gathered and skittered down the cup, creating a wet halo around the base of the glass. I'd sit up, take a deep swig, slowly saving the flavors on my tongue and settle back down on the driveway and loose myself in the vast canvas above. I was not alone, all around me on the shadowy driveway were the dark forms of my siblings, and my parents too sometimes. It may have looked like a family massacre, bodies strewn outstretched like this, but we didn't care. Star gazing was our right. These evenings on the driveway were a favorite of mine. I'd feel my body relax into the concrete's warm embrace, and my eyes would peer into the vast night sky. I'm sure having been to NASA's museum and peered through a phenomenal telescope fed my curiosity of the mysterious world spread far above but only a fingerbreadth away. I'd make out as many constellations as I could and eagerly watch for a shooting star. That always felt like a little wink from God, catching one of those, because they are so easy to miss. The sky was my first real memory of vastness. Growing up in Texas, it was a given. Not always in the city of Houston, granted, but whenever we got out of the city and the buildings faded away into mesquite trees and tumble weed snagged in rusty barbed wire, my lungs would expand. My eyes would open wider. Later I would feel it as I stood in the foaming waves of the ocean, and again at the edge of the Grand Canyon. Something thrilled in me at the terror and delight of being so small in the face of something so big. Sometimes I'd taste vastness more acutely in life, like when I experience the overwhelming beauty of pulling a screaming newborn to my chest for the very first time, or the shattering devastation of a traumatic and unexpected death of a sibling. I was suddenly microscopically small in the face of a yawning reality much bigger than I ever could be. Oddly, it's not a bad feeling - to realize there is a Being much bigger than we ever could be. It's stabilizing, calming, and reassuring. Vastness doesn't always feel so safe as that concrete driveway off Buffalo Speedway in Houston Texas. But I think it was so kind of God to start me off there, warm and cozy, surrounded by those I knew and loved. I really like to be comfortable. Safe, you know? Funny, because one of the top things that attracted me to my husband was that he was willing to take risks. Not crazy ones, no stupid motorcycle stunts or Russian roulette kinds of foolishness. But he shifted his priorities from what was easy and pushed into what was really good - hard but good. Falling in love with him wasn't hard but waiting for that man sure was. It took five eternal years for him to come up for air from the mission field and realize he did want to be married after all. Good thing too, because I was about to become an old maid if he didn't. But his love for God and His word pushes on, often cutting through deep waters that may seem murky or muddled to me. He pushes for unpacking it all. And that quest for walking with God, no matter where He calls, has led us on a truly unique and powerful journey. His willingness to take risks has allowed us to experience the vastness of God's provision, of His unexpected abundance, and of His sustenance through seasons of trial. There is so much I am just beginning to understand. Things I'm hungering to unpack. But this I know. The vast needs that spread wide before us? They are already in His hands. The staggering reality that pierces our soul? God sees it, too. The questions our teens will ask? God has already prepared. The friends and influences our children need? He already knows. Hagar went into the desert with her precious son and expected to meet death. Instead, she came face to face with an angel of hope and summarized the scene by saying, "You are the God who sees me" (Genesis 16:13 NIV). No matter how vast the world, no matter how small we feel, we are seen by El-roi, the God who sees us (Genesis 16:13 NRSV). Sitting in the face of these gasping moments calmes me, makes me still and quiet - which is a good thing. Words come so easily, and it's easy to miss the better things when we are too busy making noise. Sometimes I see straight through a matter with crystal clear vision. Sometimes I'm certain I'm right. But then, sometimes I'm just wrong. It's humbling, but fact. Sometimes God reveals something to us to hold in silence, like Mary, close and treasured in our hearts (Luke 2:19). God does it so we invite Him to work it like only He can while we pray over it. Sometimes it is time to speak, sometimes it is more important pause, to lean in, to hold a finger to our own lips and look up. To lean in and listen. In that quietness and in the listening, I'm discovering something so unexpected. We all know relationships take work, time, and words. But sometimes, in the most unexpected places, when I have no words, I discover how fully I am known by my Father. Without me even having the right words, or the ability to express myself. I'm understood. Held. Treasured. It's simply life-changing. Like that little freckled girl laying on the driveway, lost under the awe of glittering stars: I am held by His warm embrace. To be known, fully and completely known, is staggering. ALL of me, my best and my worst, the whole package, seen in entirety and accepted. Not left to stay in that incomplete stage, but fully loved and embraced, THAT is life-changing. I'm still puzzling over the constellations above. Some things in life are just bitter. There are knots and tangles that vex my impatient soul. But I'm increasingly aware that in this immense vast life, both mortal and immortal, God is over all. His name is over it all. In my failures, He can redeem. In betrayals, He can restore. The broken, He came to heal. The lost He calls home. It is a beautiful, humbling, exhilarating process we are invited to witness, and at beautiful times, participate in. My breathing steadies. My fingers relax. He really is over it all. Come, pull up a spot next to me on this warm driveway, and let us loose ourselves in this vast spread of His presence, His promise, all around us. Come on, it's warm here. I've got a spot for you.

The Blessing of Raising Teens?

editor@heartlight.org (Melissa Troyer) — Tue, 16 Jan 2024 02:00:00 -0600

Parenting teens is one of the best, hardest, most growing things I've ever done.

"Marriage will show you your true selfishness," they said. So I braced myself, but the blow never came. Marriage quickly became a haven I had never dreamed possible. "Parenting," then, because they said, "it's harder than you know." But babies flowed as naturally as marriage had, although nights were chopped up and now there were three of us, and then four, and we just kept adding. But where I've really stood nose to nose with my ugly flesh is parenting children when they needed more than milk and snuggles. I'd gladly nurse for 20 years. But when little people stretch themselves to full height and try stretching their wings and challenge my words, I've had to dig deep. Deeper than my ability, understanding, or my own resources. Much deeper. Teens are amazing, and exactly the best gift a mother could ask for. I've come toe-to-toe with my own anger, selfishness, and laziness like never before. I am digging into God's word so I can find answers to the questions they are asking. I'm soaking my heart in His priorities. I am discovering beauty throughout the Word. I'm uncovering that this very stretching in my heart is a powerful, beautiful opportunity to grow side-by-side with these blossoming, unfolding young adults. The world sighs and complains, "Teens are so exhausting." Perhaps they are if we shut them out and push them away. But what if we pull them close when it gets hard? What if we invite them to watch as we come face-to-face with our own rebellion, and repent before God and them? What if we walk out in our lives what we say to them? It's the easiest thing in the world to avoid pressure - to step back, to isolate, and to say our children trigger us or make us feel shame. Satan will always make sure we have a "valid" excuse to blame, to point the finger, to explain why it's not our responsibility to deal with our mess. It is the kindness of God to bring us to repentance and to show us where we've sinned so we can turn and walk filled with His presence. Adam and Eve demonstrated the cowering isolation that comes from hiding sin instead of spreading it out before the Lord and walking in His light (1 John 1:5-10). What if we discover that these teens are our best friends, the very people God sent us to help navigate the mundane in life by our side? We sweat and sigh, we laugh and cry with them. What if we provide them wise guidance and clear boundaries while also laughing hard over a stupid joke or absentminded mistake? What if we fall deeply in love with these teen years, instead of resenting the discomfort they can bring? There are a million hard things in life that raising teens can train us to handle:

Divorce.
Church splits.
A difficult birth that leaves you feeling traumatized.
Nursing your baby that ends up being really challenging.
Death that rocks your world unexpectedly.
A relationship crumbles that you took for granted.

What if we leaned into hard places instead of running away? What if we stood with hands open, while asking God, "What can I learn? What do You have for me in this?" What if we chose to have soft and courageous hearts instead of cynical ones when bitterness is the most tempting thing around? "Just because it's hard doesn't mean it's bad," as Abbie Halberstadt wisely says. "It doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful," as the Nester says. "Children are a gift from the Lord," our Maker says. What if we dare to agree with Him? If we do, we get to tell a new story to this weary, frustrated world. Parenting teens is one of the best, hardest, most growing things I've ever done. I'm glad I have at least 15 more years of it. I'm certain I'm just discovering how good it really is. What about you?

It's the Little Moments

editor@heartlight.org (Melissa Troyer) — Tue, 05 Dec 2023 02:00:00 -0600

He grasps those little moments so well. Pulls the kids close, chooses to go play frisbee or a game of Uno, just because.

Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, 16 making the most of the time, because the days are evil. So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is (Ephesians 5:15-16 NRSV).

"It's in the little moments," Daniel whispered to me last week after playing an impromptu game of Kick the Can with the kids. I nodded, having seen him live this out a million times. He grasps those little moments so well. Pulls the kids close, chooses to go play frisbee or a game of Uno, just because. We have eight-and-a-half months left of school, and there IS light at the end of the tunnel. But part of me wants to hold my breath, hibernate the long months away, and get past this hard season. But these little moments are for living... for making the most of, for gathering joy. The four-year-old just sleepily joined me on the couch, wrapped in a soft cuddle blanket. He grabs a book with only a few pages of pictures, and he flips through it for a minute till he gets bored. His warm hand finds the soft spot on my neck that he’s addicted to. I capture the joy and tuck it deep into my pocket. There are joys to discover everywhere, even in hard seasons, in winter months, in times of being far from loved ones. It's these little moments where we gather joy, where our roots grow deep, where we cultivate a heart that can hear our Father whispering His promises. It's the little moments!

Join me today in capturing #littlemoments on Instagram. Tag me over there, and I’ll share yours, too!

KeyQUote:

In Everything Give Thanks... in EVERYTHING!

editor@heartlight.org (Melissa Troyer) — Tue, 21 Nov 2023 02:00:00 -0600

And there I began hunting out places of worship through tears of joy in pain.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18).

Should we be thankful just because God wants us to? Maybe we should let Him transform the way we view His wishes and learn to view them as an invitation to experience His mysterious blessings in hard times and places - view them as opportunities to find gifts we could easily have missed. Choosing gratitude and thankfulness when life isn't easy is powerful:

Instead of glaring at the hard things, we hunt out beauty.
Instead of resenting our husband's long hours, we can tell our children how blessed they are to have a daddy who works hard but loves most when his shifts are over, and he comes back home, tired but delighted to see us.
Instead of sulking about unfinished houses or projects, we can grow flowers and cultivate a culture in our home that is welcoming and joyful- even mid-process.

Our kitchen remodel taught me that years ago. Our kitchen was SO bad when we bought this house that the listing agent didn't even post photos of it. It truly was the black hole of the house - with toenailed, mismatched cabinets, countertops cobbled together, and heavy drawers that smashed fingers far too often. Our roof and siding were much more pressing needs. So I told Daniel, "I won't complain about the kitchen," knowing full well it would be years till it reached the top priority on his "to-do" list. God held a finger to my lips and whispered, "Really? No complaints!" I gulped and nodded. In those following years, as I smashed fingers and glared at annoying kitchen features, God held my tongue. And then one day, the old kitchen gave way to a new, lovely one. A well-waited, long-anticipated space for me to use to host and serve. But the real project wasn't over. I had just begun discovering the power of thankfulness in hard seasons. Daniel began school, and once again God invited me into a powerful journey of acknowledging the hard but focusing on the beautiful moments. "I won't complain," I said again. This time I knew what I was signing up for. It was much like that moment on the Honduran mountainside as we buried Issac (my brother who tragically drowned) when God whispered, "But will you worship?" And there I began hunting out places of worship through tears of joy in pain. It's that peace that makes no human sense. Choosing to be thankful isn't denying the hard moments. It's acknowledging God IN those hard places. Finding things to be grateful for in the saltiest seasons carves DEEP examples for our children to follow. It shows them HOW to live well. How to develop GENUINE character. It shifts the focus from our hard to His STRENGTH. Once again, following God's ways isn't suppression but a lovely invitation to live life with deeper delight than we ever imagined - not just finding God in the good but in the hard as well. What are you grateful for today? I'd love to see your comments below with one thing you are grateful for today.