Desperation

As human beings, we've become accustomed to the idea that being desperate is weak and pathetic. No one wants to be seen as desperate for a friend or for a partner, for a job, for money, desperate for help or validation. As Shauna Niequist says in one of her promo videos for her book Bread & Wine, "We live in a culture that prides us for not having any needs. I don't need to sleep, I don't need to eat, I'm like a robot. I'm so tough I can keep on going. It's a really soul-less, really damaging way to live."

I'm beginning to see that while yes, there are social disadvantages to being considered 'desperate'... being desperate is actually becoming the quality in which I strive to be in my relationship and walk with Christ.

Last night, I downloaded the Proverbs 31 First 5 app (very cool, by the way) and listened to Lysa Terkeurst's opening remarks at their She Speaks Conference going on this weekend. She was describing how in so many moments in our lives, we present God with a nice, tidy package of suggestions. We grasp them all tightly in our hands and offer them up to Him and we say something like, "Ok God...I was thinking about what's going on in my life and I think I've come up with a plan. So here it is - all of my suggestions, my plan for how to make this work, and I'd really, really like for you to bless this. Don't mess it up!! Just BLESS it"

I was in bed fighting off a terrible migraine after a hard bedtime with the kids, and when I heard her describe it like that, I had to laugh. Because isn't it true? Isn't it true that we still fight and battle to be the God of our own lives? And throughout it all, we present God with a package of suggestions and hope that He'll work those for our good. And when it doesn't happen that way, we feel miffed or disappointed or even downright furious.

It feels like when I fight to be the God of my own life, I often times find myself feeling fearful or discouraged. And I have to remind myself that fear is not of God.

It's in the desperate moments where I know I am far more attuned to Him than I usually am. It's desperation that breaks me open and brings me to my knees over and over and over again. It's the empty places that long to be filled up with Him that open my eyes to His plan for me and reminds me that He knows me intimately. He knows my heart, He knows my desires and He also knows where He needs me to be.

There are some changes happening in my life right now - things I'll be sharing soon enough - but I've found myself feeling almost backed into a corner. Desperate. Out of ideas, out of options, out of plans. I've been through my Plan A, my Plan B, my Plan C. And each time God has taken those plans gently out of my tight grasp and reassured me that He's working all things for my good.

And so here I stand, desperate for Him. Needy. Broken. Empty. With nothing else to offer but a whole lot of nothingness. Just myself and my faith that He is still sovereign and that He is still good.

And it feels pretty great.

What a Privilege

Sometimes, wow...I seriously love my life.

Y'all. This week has been hard. From start to finish (and it's not even over yet!) It's been hard physically, hard emotionally, hard spiritually, hard from a parenting perspective...

But in the midst of my exhaustion and moments of fear and doubt, God whispers to me that He's got this.  Why do I fight that so much? Why do I doubt?

I went to bed about 2 hours ago - and have already been woken twice by little people in utero and out (ha) My mind was working overtime and I picked up my phone to see messages that had poured in after our Nourish Friday night dinners ended.

By the way, for all of you who attend or host a dinner, this is probably my favorite part of the weekend so keep reaching out to us.

I read messages, I scrolled through pictures and I just burst into tears.

My heart is so full.

I am so thankful.

Women of Nourish, I haven't even met most of you! But my gosh...You. Are. Inspiring.

Thank you for being brave and for showing up. Thank you to those of you who open your homes and welcome in strangers. Thank you to those of you who leave your house or work on a Friday or Saturday night and step into the new and the unknown.

Thank you fighting back against the stereotype that all women are mean girls. Thank you for taking a risk.

6 or 7 years ago, working with a large group of women like this would've been the last thing on my mind. If you'd told me about Nourish then, I'd have laughed in your face.

This passion we have, for seeing each of you connect and be part of something...I just never would have seen it coming.

Shaunna and I - we don't know what we're doing here. We just felt God had put this passion in our hearts so we jumped. We are figuring this out month by month, day by day. If you knew how much we talked about you, prayed for you, thought about you - well you'd probably think we were crazy stalkers. But really, we LOVE each of you.

It isn't easy keeping tabs on a group of women that spans across the city, that isn't focused on any particular group or church or religion or age, etc. It makes my head hurt sometimes, worrying that we've dropped the ball on something or missed someone or something or hurt someone's feelings accidentally. Have we been too churchy or not churchy enough? I can't tell you how many times I've woken in a panic in the middle of the night sure that we'd forgotten to respond to an email or put someone in a group.

But as each month passes, one thing I know for sure - God is placing each of you in your group for a reason. He is orchestrating your lives, your friendships...He is weaving together a beautiful and rich story of love and acceptance and Shaunna and I get to see it happen. What a privilege.

I. Love. You.

xoxo

It's Ok Not To Be Sure

After we lost Lilia, I clung to this verse like no other. I'm going to admit something here that I don't talk about very often - but when I got pregnant with Declan I prayed my FACE off for a daughter. I just knew that God would grant me that desire. After all, it was a good desire - I had lost a precious baby girl, I wanted to experience the joy of having a daughter of my own. I watched friends have their little girls, and I knew that God would reward me for my faithfulness after such a tragic time.

I'm a little ashamed to admit this now, because I've learned a lot since then - but that's honestly where my brain was during that time. I had dreams about having baby girls, I doodled baby girl names - I was sad for our loss, but I knew that God would redeem my situation. I mean, just read the verse! 

Well, as the story goes - little Declan was not a girl. Truthfully at first, I was pretty shocked. I mean what? I prayed. A lot. I told God the desires of my heart! I even gave Him a list when I prayed as to why I felt like I needed a daughter. (I am hanging my head in shame after that last statement)

But here is the thing I'm beginning to realize after a lot of heartache and disappointment in various areas of my life. Sometimes, God's redemption doesn't look like what we think it should. And God granting us the desires of our heart doesn't look like what we think it should either. He's not a genie. 

And I don't know all the answers - I still don't fully understand this verse, although I have studied it a LOT. My heart has truly yearned for some precious and legitimate things and I have seen God grant some of those, and I have seen others seemingly fall by the wayside. Things that are broken and seem beyond repair - things that may just actually be beyond repair. 

This week I've been telling myself that God CAN redeem any and all situations. He can. I know this. But I also think that God's redemption may not look at all like what we hope it will. 

Maybe He will put broken pieces back together. But maybe he'll take those broken pieces and make something new from them. Maybe He'll scatter them like the wind and just when you feel like you can't take another breath because the pain of brokenness is too much to bear, He'll show you how He makes beauty from ashes. 

I wish I understood God. I wish I understood every verse in the Bible. I don't pretend to be a spiritual scholar or theologian. I'm learning more every day, and I'm trying to trust a God that quite honestly, makes very little temporal sense. 

I suppose there are a lot of cliche and trite Christian statements I could make here to wrap this up but I want you to know that sometimes it's ok to live in the grey area of not understanding. It's ok to be upset and angry and confused and sometimes it's ok to not be ok. I had a friend ask me recently how I was doing and I said you know, I'm not really sure.

And she said, "It's ok not to be sure."

Yes, friends. It's ok not to be sure. It's ok not to be sure how or why or what. Just don't stop talking to God. Because for me, that's when my relationship with God deepens and grows and becomes even more beautiful. That's usually the time where I find myself in that really sweet spot - even if just for a little while, until life gets in the way again. That sweet spot of communion with Him. It's a constant tug of war - finding myself in that space, then finding myself farther away than I meant to be. 

Life is painful and it's messy and sometimes I can't wrap my mind around how stuff continually keeps breaking. Sometimes I cry out to Him in despair, sometimes in anger, and probably not nearly as often as I should - in thanksgiving. It is so hard to be thankful for the brokenness. It is so hard to be thankful for the fire that refines us. But my eyes are on eternity. My eyes are on that prize. 

My God Is...

If we are Facebook friends, you might have seen this post awhile back on my page:

I have been thinking a lot about this, about the responses and comments this post got and I wanted to clarify a few things.

I love church.

I seriously do. I am one of those extroverted, church lovin, worship singing, cafe visiting 'basic white Christian' girls. Ok? I admit it. I'm not ashamed. I love a great service, music that gets me inspired and a message that gets me motivated. I am NOT anti-church. Not at all.

This Girl Is Me And I Am Not Ashamed. Ok?

But after being involved in the professional side of ministry for 5 years, here is what I know.

My God is bigger than a church building.

My God is bigger than a worship service.

My God is bigger than the best sermon ever preached.

My God is bigger than the worst sermon ever preached.

My God is bigger than the biggest celebration you could ever imagine.

My God is bigger than the most horrific tragedy you will ever encounter.

My God is bigger than the pastor who struggles.

My God is bigger than the pastor who succeeds.

My God is bigger than a perfect guitar solo during worship.

My God is bigger than a wrong note.

My God is bigger than a broken marriage.

My God is bigger than betrayal.

My God is bigger than my insecurities, my fears, and my disappointments.

My God is bigger than my best day.

My God is bigger than my worst day.

My God is a righteous judge.

My God is a loving father.

My faith is defined by the knowledge of all those things, and so much more. My faith is defined by my intimate, personal relationship with the God of the Universe. I will be let down, disappointed, abandoned and deceived by the human beings who work tirelessly to carry out His mission. BUT - and hear me when I say BUT - I will also be enlightened, uplifted, carried, loved and encouraged by those same human beings. 

The church is imperfect. God is perfect. 

My faith is not defined by my relationship with anyone but Him.

xoxo

Thank YOU

You know, women have a bad rap for being petty, gossipy, immature and back-stabby.

In truth, I had very few female friends in my life until about 6 years ago when I knew I needed to refocus and re-center my life. But I wasn't sure how - it seemed to me most of the women I knew were awful.

In 2010, God began to reveal a funny little passion I never knew I had. It was a passion for seeing a community of women grow and flourish in each other and in Christ. I guess some might even call it women's ministry. I pushed back for a long time because I held on to a lot of past issues with 'friends' and kept telling myself that no, no - women's groups and women's issues were NOT my thing.

I've had some hits and misses when it comes to finding and keeping female friends. We just don't click with everyone and women are emotional beings who get their feelings hurt easily. Some days I feel like I'm back in high school and I want to throw my hands up and say FORGET IT. Who has time for it? I need people in my life who understand where I'm at and can respect what I'm able to give. That hasn't been easy to find, but I'm fortunate to have a few friends who just get it.

And over the past 4+ years I've dipped my toe in the pool a few times, and jumped back out but year after year, God reignites this passion of mine in different degrees and a variety of ways. I'm still very much figuring out what this looks like and how to take it on. I'm a mama who works part time for a non profit organization, homeschools a teenager, takes care of one highly spirited threenager and a 14 month old stage 5 clinger.

The great thing about knowing that this is part of what God is calling me to do is knowing that if I pursue him in the process, the pieces will come together. I don't have to sweat about it, stress about it, freak out about it. I feel excited but I also feel calm.

But until I have the pieces in place, I want to say this to you, my sweet friends.

You are so, so loved.

I wish there was a better way to convey that or fancier words to use. But that's the truth. My heart is so encouraged by how many of you reached out to me after my last blog post. I was terrified to post, worried that I'd hear nothing but crickets chirping. In fact, the opposite happened. So many of you answered and shared your hearts with me. You told me of past pain and current hang ups. You told me your heart craves the same thing. You told me you were all in, and you wanted to help in any way you could. You told me you desired a space where you could be free of the pressures of books and studies and weekly commitments. You told me you saw a space like I saw. Women gathered in homes, around tables, playing Cootie (you had to be there...) sharing conversation and eventually sharing your lives.

And there were many of you who reached out to me privately to share pain and heartache and things you felt were too personal to share on Facebook. I want each of you to know that I felt your hearts aching as you shared your stories with me. And I want you to know that I won't forget about you and I will be praying very specific prayers for each of you.

I know that God wants what we all so desperately crave - for the walls of condemnation, of judgment, of insecurity and fear to come crashing down. For us to sit with each other as sisters and friends and learn to love with grace and acceptance.

I am truly excited. And I am extremely thankful that so many of you were willing to share your heart with me. I believe that we each have a beautiful gift to share, beautiful and broken stories that will heal the pain of others who will realize they aren't alone. This process is already unfolding in front of me. It started with a Facebook conversation and I can't wait to see what comes out of that. Thank you for taking a risk and being willing to be part of what's coming!

Take heart, dear friend. The creator of the universe knows you intimately and He weeps when you weep, He rejoices when you rejoice.

xoxo

Hey P-Dub

Hey P-Dub,

(No, not Pioneer Woman) P-Dub...PW...Pastor's Wife.

Hey, you.

I see you.

Not in a voyeuristic type of way - in an I see you kind of way.

I see you at church on Sunday mornings, clothes carefully picked out and a smile on your face as you greet person after person, hoping to remember everyone's name.

I see you late at night, as you lie in bed and try to sleep as you fight back the tears worrying about the pressures of ministry and their effects on your husband and family.

I see you leading a women's group, or a circle, or small group or life group - I see you as you leave your family to serve, as you stay up late at night cramming and praying and hoping to find some pearls of wisdom to impart or for the ability to share a story that will inspire others.

I see you as you move from volunteer position to volunteer position, filling the gaps as they are needed, still smiling.

I see you sitting in your home, feeling lonely and isolated and wishing that someone would reach out. Wishing that someone would ask you how you were doing - and that someone would really mean it.

I see you as you fight with your husband, both of you weary from the 24 hour a day, 7 day a week demands of ministry life. I see you depleted and exhausted.

I see you feeling self conscious because someone in your family did something or said something or acted in a way that may make others raise an eyebrow. I see you worried and beating yourself up because you can't possibly attain the level of perfection expected of you.

I see you lonely and isolated, as you worry and pray for your husband, wishing you could share your struggles with someone. Wishing you had a safe place.

I see you loving on the people who come through the doors of your church. I see your genuine compassion and your beautiful heart that shines for Jesus not just on Sundays but on every other day of the week.

I see you loving your children and maintaining your home. I see you praying for strength and grace to be the kind of mother He wants you to be.

I see you plead with God to give you the stamina and the understanding to know how best to support your husband as he gives of himself day after day and comes home weary and tired and forever changed by the things he's seen, the stories he's heard, the broken people he's counseled.

I see the way your eyes light up when your husband preaches or leads worship, I see how much you love him and how proud you are at the way he is using his God given gifts.

I see your internal battle as you struggle to be accessible, but not too vulnerable. I see you weigh how much of yourself you can share.

I see you wince when you accidentally overhear criticism about your husband, or the church, or the music, or the staff, or the chairs, the children's ministry...I see you rise above and smile anyway. I can almost feel that pit in your stomach because you know every prayerful, angst filled moment given to making each decision.

I see you shove aside personal pain and anguish as you strive to fulfill your role in ministry. I see you succeed at times, and I see you fail many times.

I see you as you struggle to breathe because the stress and the pressure feels like a very real, very heavy block sitting squarely on your chest.

Dear Pastor's Wife: I see you. I see behind the role, behind the title, behind the persona and I see you.

It is a beautiful road you are walking. One that is special and God-filled and grace-filled. It is one that many people will never understand. It is a road that at times feels so lonely and dark and twisty and at other times feels so full of joy and amazing and breathtaking that you can scarcely believe you get to walk it.

Dear Pastor's Wife: You are loved. You are loved. You are loved. Not just by many people at your church, not just by your kids and your husband and not just by the few close friends you have - but by your Heavenly Father. Oh, Pastor's Wife - He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

And whether you knew your entire life that you were destined for this role or you became a Pastor's Wife without any preparation - whether your church has 100 or 10,000 members - whether your church plays hymns or loud music - God sees you. He sees every smile, every tear, every heartache, every fear. He sees you awake at night, worried and feeling alone.

You are not alone.

He sees you.

And I see you too. I am praying for you tonight, and every night. I am praying for you, dear Pastor's Wife. I know it's a tough, lonely road but I also know you are strong. You are stronger than you think and stronger than you know. You are treasured.

You Are Loved.

xoxo

now that i have seen

I want to tell you a story.

But truthfully, it's hard to put into words what God has placed on my heart this past year - hard to formulate swirly thoughts into written words about the things I've read, the things I've prayed for, the promises I've made, the leaps I've taken, the fear I've felt, the frustration and apprehension, the joy and certainty.

I could list all the books I've read over the past year that have begun to chip away at me, take hold of a place in my heart and push me out of my comfort zone. I could tell you every thing that has inspired me along the way but this journey has been mine and your journey may be different. It may not look anything like mine. You may gather inspiration from completely different sources. God will tell you something completely different than He's telling me. He may be telling you to rest in motherhood right now, or to go back to school, to dive in at work, to invest in a friend.

So here is what I want to tell you. This year, I knew that God would radically shape who I was. I knew that I was being called to do something else with my life than what I was currently doing. I knew that this year was going to rattle and stretch me.

He took me from a comfortable place in motherhood and handed me a baby who needed much more than I thought I could give. He took me from a comfortable place of worship with other believers just like me and put me in a multi-cultural worship environment with people who are not just like me. He took my husband and I from a comfortable position where we couldn't discuss our weaknesses and brought us on staff with people who know our struggles.

And He told me to get up out of my comfortable Christianity and to branch out of my once a month volunteer church position and give of myself.

For 10 months I've been talking to God about all of this, about where He was taking me, what He was doing. For 10 months I've been asking him to break my heart for what breaks His - and in the words of Jen Hatmaker, to "raise up in me a holy passion"

I prayed, I pondered, I researched, I analyzed the dreams I had in rare moments of sleep. I took one step forward and then doubted myself, and took ten steps back. I questioned God. I looked around at my chaotic life and laughed, thinking - there is no way. There is no way I can do more.

But, friends, I am really - truly - excited to let you all in on the little secret I've been keeping for awhile now. To tell you that God has led me into territory that is frightening and heartbreaking but is exactly where God wants me to be. I will be joining up with the already amazing team at End Slavery in Charlotte, a fantastic organization and justice initiative of 24-7 that exists to raise awareness about modern day slavery.

Human trafficking, sex trafficking - these are areas I will immerse myself in over the coming months. My role at ESC will be partially in the social media capacity, and partially as a writer and blogger as I record my personal journey through this process. I will write about what I learn, about the people I meet, about the safe houses being acquired for victims, and I am sure I will write about much, much more.

It is my hope to not only raise awareness for the 800,000 victims trafficked each year, but to tell the stories of those who have been rescued. To put faces and stories and lives behind those numbers. The statistics I'm learning are already breaking my heart. There is no way I can turn away now. What I know is too powerful, too tragic and it is not ok.

I hope you'll follow along with me on this journey. I'm excited to share it with you.

xoxo

Twenty Fifth

Today is February 25th - a normal day for most of you, but a day that holds significance and sorrow for me.  February 25th was Lilia's due date, and I can't help but wonder what life would have been like if we were celebrating our little girl turn one this week.

I was feeling a little hesitant about whether I should acknowledge this day publicly - it seemed the last time I mentioned Lilia online, it caused a small firestorm of comments that hurt me deeply and had me crying on and off all day.  But the truth is, this is my little space of the world and she is and always will be a part of our family and our story. Read more here, here, and here.

And if there is anything I've learned from the baby loss community, it's that so many women feel as though they can't talk about the child they've lost. If this post helps just one other woman feel ok about continuing to grieve the loss of a pregnancy or child - I'll put myself out there.

*********************************************************

Dear Lilia,

It has been 526 days since I found out you were gone.

Some of those days have been soul-crushingly hard. Some of those days I didn't want to get out of bed and face the world without you growing inside of me.  Some of those days, the very sight of other little girls would bring me to tears. Some of those days I was angry, some of those days I felt like I couldn't breathe. Some of those days I wondered why God had taken you - my daughter - from me without any warning.  Some of those days I felt alone and abandoned by people I thought were my friends.

But some of those days I felt alive again, I felt joy and happiness and peace in my heart.  Some of those days I felt so madly in love with God I wanted to sing His praises as loud as I possibly could.  Some of those days I laughed and I smiled and some of those days I enjoyed coffee and good conversations with friends who weren't afraid to talk about you.  Some of those days I enjoyed the sunshine and the feel of the ocean waves as they lapped against my toes in the warm sand.  Some of those days I enjoyed a new life growing inside of me, your brother Declan.

It has been 526 days since I found out you were gone and while the ache has dulled some, I am still amazed at the sadness I feel when I think of you. I never got a chance to watch you grow or see you take your first steps, but I know with all that is in me that you are walking with Jesus, blonde hair streaming behind you as you laugh. It is painful that I know nothing about you, but it is comforting to know I can spend eternity getting to know you, getting to memorize every perfect feature on your face.

This past year has pulled me closer to and further from God more times than I thought possible. It feels like a constant tug of war between Him and I, but He never stops tugging. He never stops chasing me, and His love never fails. I am reading a book and the author says one of the best things she learned was to embrace the tension of God.  It is too difficult to make sense of it all - too hard to make Him fit into the box of humanness we so often try to force him into. In our limited perspective, the best thing to do is embrace the tension.

And so I find that I am learning to do just that.  To embrace the unexplained - I don't know why you aren't here, but I don't understand a lot of things when it comes to God and that's ok.

I do know this. You are loved. You are remembered. Your story has impacted many women who write to tell me so - and because of that, I can find a little peace in your absence.  Last year, your story caught the attention of some authors who wrote a book on baby loss and they shared with me their story of loss by sending me their book. I am grateful for the impact you have made and that other women who have been through this feel a little comfort knowing they are not alone.

Until I see your beautiful face,

Always your Mommy

Sinking

Back in 2007 (ish) I first heard the song How He Loves. (If you've ever felt really, really angry with God, you should totally check out that link by the way) It was during this song that I prayed to receive Christ for the first time.  I was moved to tears by the lyrics, by the imagery, and by this verse in particular - 

How beautiful a concept is that?  

Todd and I try to make it a priority to see the ocean once a year, and I am never more in awe of God's creation as I am when I stare out at the ocean.  The vastness, the expansiveness, the beauty of it  - it's magnificent and inspiring and awesome.  

Hearing that verse, and imagining God's grace in that way was - and still is - an incredibly powerful way for me to view Him.  To know that He is a God that offers all encompassing love, all encompassing forgiveness, all encompassing compassion.
English theologian Richard Sibbes once said, "There is more mercy in Christ than sin in us."

Don't you just love that?

It's easy to keep score.  In our own lives, in the lives of others - to pull out that invisible little checklist we all secretly keep in our heads.  To record a black mark when we screw up, when our friends screw up, when people we trust screw up.  And if you've been immersed in a religion or culture that pushes works as a value over grace, that's a hard habit or thought process to get past.  

But the truth is we ARE all sinners, each and every one of us.  And the even greater truth is that God knows us intimately and He still offers each one of us that all encompassing, as big as the ocean kind of grace, love and forgiveness.  

One of the things I love most about being a parent is the real life glimpse I get into what God's love must be like.  

I've held, nursed & cared for 3 newborns in my life and here's what I know.  Babies need their mothers. There is something primal about a newborn's need to be held close by a mother.  In the last 10 days of Declan's life, I have observed - again - how he is most easily calmed simply by me stopping what I am doing to nurse him, tuck him inside my shirt for a little skin to skin time, or wear him in a wrap close to my chest.  

In Isaiah 49:15 it says:

       “Can a woman forget her nursing child
           And have no compassion on the son of her womb?
           Even these may forget, but I will not forget you.
16           Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
          Your walls are continually before Me."

I love the imagery in this verse - how God compares His love to that of a mother and then takes it a step further by explaining that even if a mother's love fails her child, His love will not. His love never fails, He will never forget us and He will never give up on us.  

How powerful is that?  How incredible a promise to consider.  It's hard for me even comprehend that, because the love I feel for my own children is a crazy big kind of love and God's love is bigger.

There aren't many times in life that 'sinking' could be thought of as a positive.  If you're sinking, it's usually a bad thing.  But sinking into God's grace, into His love can offer you peace and rest.  It can and should calm your fears, your uncertainty and your guilt.  Sink into it and embrace it.  Offer it to those around you.

And remember the promise that God has given you - He knows you more intimately than a nursing mother knows her child and He has inscribed you on the palms of His hands.  He will not forget you.  

  

Protection

(Yes, that is me on the bottom left - younger, thinner, tanner, blonder.  Heh.)

 I'm the oldest of four.  I have 2 younger sisters and a younger brother - and my brother was born with multiple medical issues.  I won't get into them all here because they are complicated, and even after 30 years of being his sister I'm not sure I understand them all but I will tell you this - he had brain tumors and has been through multiple brain surgeries.  He dealt with seizures for most of his childhood.  Behavioral and impulse control problems resulted because of the tumors, surgeries and endless medications.

As a child, I remember our house almost always being in a state of emergency.  My brother was, in many ways, a normal highly spirited and impulsive little guy.  But a lot of that impulsivity was exacerbated by his condition.  Sometimes I'm not sure how my parents made it through those years.

We have legendary stories to tell about my brother, but this is one that always strikes me. I think he was maybe 3 or 4 years old and disappeared one afternoon.  This was pretty common - he was a magician at finding ways to sneak out of the house and take off from a very young age.

On this day, my Mother got into our car to head out and look for him.

In the city we lived in at the time, there was a busy intersection at the bottom of a big hill.  And when I say big, I mean BIG hill.  It was a 4 way stop, 2 lanes at each light - heading into a busy shopping center.  She recounts her experience of sitting at the stop light, waiting for the light to turn green so she could head into the shopping center to look for him.  I believe it was around rush hour, because she tells of how busy the intersection was.  Cars whizzing by, constant movement.  As she sat there, she noticed in the rear view mirror a blur coming down the hill that was my little brother.  Perched on his big wheel, and completely oblivious to the absolute danger that awaited him, he went careening down this hill full speed towards a busy intersection during rush hour traffic.

I can't even BEGIN to fathom how her emotions took over at that moment.  I can almost feel the dread in my own stomach as I think of one of my little ones heading full speed ahead towards such obvious danger and destruction.  As she sat in her car, panicked, stuck in traffic and unable to stop the tragedy that she was sure was to unfold, I'm sure she could do nothing but pray.

The second my brother hit the intersection, it was as if time stood still.  The road fell silent and cars seemed to vanish.  No cars whizzing through the lights, no cars turning into the shopping center.  Just a happy, oblivious little 4 year old boy on a big wheel flying through at break neck speed.  He made it through that intersection without a scratch and as soon as he hit the sidewalk on the other side, my Mom will say how almost immediately traffic picked back up and cars began whizzing down the road again.

I think of that story often - the way he was protected as he unknowingly careened towards what should have resulted in certain death or at least severe injury.  I think of our Heavenly Father looking over him at that moment - seeing my Mother in the car, fear grasping her heart.  I think of Him casting a tunnel of protection over my little brother in the moment he flew through that busy intersection, keeping him safe.

I wonder to myself how many times I have been like that oblivious little boy on a big wheel - without knowledge of what certain destruction was waiting for me.  I wonder how many times my Heavenly Father cast a tunnel of protection around me and let me fly gleefully through what should have been a terrifying and devastating moment.

It is easy to focus on the moments we know went wrong.  It's easy to be angry over things we KNOW caused us pain and despair and tragedy.  Those are tangible, in your face experiences.  I, like so many of you, find myself crying out to God demanding to know WHY He put me in this place.  I want to know WHY He wasn't there to protect me from it.

But the truth is, I am sure He has been there countless times before when I had no idea.  Deep down, I know He is always there, always with me. I will probably never know just how many times he paused life around me and let me experience happiness and pure oblivion.

T. D. Jakes once said, “That thing that is not coming to you may seem good. But either the timing is wrong, or from His position He can see that the future of it is bleak. I have always believed that people who thank God only for delivering them from what happened are just scraping the surface of praise. The real praise comes when you start thanking Him for what could have happened but didn’t because of His swift grace!"

Today, I choose to praise God for his unending grace, love and protection.  I have no doubt it has been rained down upon me in moments that I was completely and utterly unaware.  

of infinite importance

That doesn't seem like it would be too difficult, right?

Have you ever found yourself at a point in your life where you are able to find the negative in just about every situation?  Maybe you point a finger at someone else for not living up to your expectations or making decisions that you would make.  Maybe you find fault in your current situation for reasons beyond anyone's control, or maybe for reasons that ARE in someone's control.

Or maybe you're at the other end of the finger pointing, tired of feeling like you have let someone down  or tired of feeling scrutinized.  And it's easy to get angry, resentful, suspicious and just plain negative.

And the dirty truth is, if you spend the majority of your day finding fault in everyone else - it's probably time to turn the mirror around on yourself.

I've been going through some waves of this lately - you all know I like to keep it real here on my blog, so I try to share myself with you.  I am not a perfect wife, mother or pastor's wife.  We are not a perfect family, we make mistakes but we work hard at loving each other, at serving our church and most of all, honoring God.

And the moments in my life where I find that I'm the most negative or unhappy about my situation, it's usually because I've gotten lazy in my relationship with God.  I've lost sight of the one thing that is SO important to remember - keeping my gaze focused on God blocks out the rest of the junk.  That's eloquently stated, right?

I recently came across a similar sentiment online, perhaps more nicely put:

"What God knows about me is infinitely more important than what others think about me"

You can substitute other things in there - "What God knows about my children is infinitely more important than what others think about them."  Or, "What God knows about my husband is infinitely more important than what others think about him..."

Want to make it basic?  What God knows about YOU and your story is all that matters.

That's the end of it.  What God knows IS what's important.  How am I sharing my heart with Him consistently?  How am I striving to grow and to rely on Him, to press into Him, to block out the noisy chatter all around me?

It's too easy to fall into the trap of feeling like you're not enough, you don't have enough, you can't ever BE enough...

And I don't know about you, but when those kind of thoughts creep into my mind (and they do, oh they do) I suddenly start to feel very cranky about myself and those around me.

But if I wake up with a heart full of gratitude and fixed towards Him, focusing on what I know to be true - that what He knows about me is the most important - I can't help but to feel a more positive outlook.  A weight lifted off my shoulders.  What happens in my life is between me and Him.  End of story.

It doesn't matter what the outside influences whisper in our ears.

Keep your gaze fixed on him.

"...never will I leave you, never will I forsake you..."
                   ~Hebrews 13:5

Nourish

If you're my real life friend, you know that one thing I'm pretty passionate about is finding good, healthy food for my family.  I'm fascinated with learning about nutrition, different ideas about nutrition and how to eliminate the majority of processed foods from our diet.

But something about pregnancy makes me throw all those ideas out the window.  Well, not ALL of them - but a lot of them.  I'm way less 'strict' when it comes to what I buy at the store - and while I still stick to Earth Fare, Trader Joe's and the farmers markets...you can find junk food anywhere.  "Organic cookies" are still cookies.

I find this pretty interesting actually - because you would think when you are growing a tiny human, there would be a stronger desire to nourish yourself better.  Especially during this pregnancy because I haven't had weird food aversions or too many cravings, and I haven't been sick.

But - I have been tired.  And overwhelmed with some life stuff.  And when those things happen, I find that my defenses are down.  My willpower goes to sleep and I can justify cookies from EarthFare because "THEY'RE VEGAN and made with ORGANIC CANE SUGAR"  True story!

On Saturday night I ran to the store and loaded up on fresh produce and avoided the aisles with the

'healthy junk' so I wouldn't have it in the house.  I've been feeling ick, and I know I need to be nourishing myself and this baby better.  So for lunch I made a colorful salad with my homemade lemon tahini dressing and am remembering how much I love fresh food!

It also got me thinking about how to nourish my soul.  As a mother, a wife, a friend - it can be easy to drop the ball on taking care of that aspect.  It can be easy to become overwhelmed, tired and shut down.  To sit down at night and stare at Facebook or mindlessly watch a reality show.  I find the more overwhelmed I am with life, the less motivation I have to rely on God for support.

If you want a good reality check, think about where you spend your time and what you put your efforts towards in your loneliest, darkest, emptiest moments.

Where am I allowing myself to indulge, chalking it up to ideas like 'I deserve it'?  'Just one of these ____ won't do too much damage'

God is begging us to turn to him when we our defenses are down, when we are most tired, when it is easier to turn on the TV than to turn to His word.  Nourishing your soul isn't easy - it takes time, commitment, effort - just like learning to nourish your body properly.  You can gloss over the hard stuff and feel somewhat ok about grazing on organic cookies all week but the bottom line is, a cookie is still a cookie.  And grazing on God's word will only get you so far.  You have to dig into the meat, into the heart of Him and His desires for you.

Where do you turn when you are most tired?   Are you looking for someone or something to fix you, to fill up the void you feel or are you looking to pour yourself out, to give yourself to Him?

Parenting

There are two blog posts circulating around the internet right now - both beginning with, "Dear Mom on the iPhone,"

I read the first one and felt convicted.  I shed a tear or two.  I felt sad that I had, at times, checked out of my kids lives to get one mindless moment for myself to scroll through Instagram or check Facebook status updates of my friends.  I remembered vividly a recent trip to our neighborhood park.  While my oldest (12) chased my youngest (almost 2), I laid down on the slide and CLOSED MY EYES to bask in the sunshine that day.

Then I think I sat on a bench and texted a few friends.  I snapped some pics and uploaded them to Facebook.  I was grateful that Logan was keeping Beckett busy.  Truthfully, some days I'm so overwhelmed by the crushed crackers on my floor, the toy trains in my toilet and the non stop tantrums that I need to sit and check out.  And there are many times I grab my phone and check Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Twitter more than I need to.  I felt like the post was a great reminder that childhood does go quickly, and my children need and deserve my undivided attention at times.

Then I read the second post.  And I felt relieved.  I found myself saying, "Yeah!  Yeah!  YEAH!" Is it possible that it was OKAY to be checking my phone while my kids play?   I started thinking about all the times I use my phone to send videos and pictures of what's going on at home to my husband who travels a lot for work.  And how I use it to find recipes for meals for my family or to tell me what time the grocery store opens and closes.  I felt justified.

Honestly both posts have their valid points.  And, like with everything, moderation is key.  There ARE times I play on the iPhone more than I should or more than I need to.  There are times it's good to remind myself the tantrum Beckett is throwing probably has more to do with me not being tuned in to his needs than him trying to make my day more stressful than it already is.

But both posts made me realize that I don't need the approval of two random internet bloggers about my parenting.  I don't need to look to the internet to tell me if what I'm doing is ok.  Because the care of my children is entrusted to me by the most important judge of all.  I answer to God and every hug and kiss I give, every word spoken (good or bad), every decision I make - I answer to Him.

There are plenty of things I can improve on as a parent.  But I know that if I have my eyes fixed towards Him, and not towards the approval of other parents or friends, I'm heading in the right direction.  I'll make mistakes, I'll do things I shouldn't - I'll spend more time than I need to mindlessly scrolling through Instagram pictures.  But I'll do a lot of things right too.

I'll give lots of kisses, I'll give lots of hugs.  I'll take my kids to the park and out for bagels on a cold morning.  I may be a girl, but I've been known to wrestle and play rough - it's what happens when you're a mom to boys.  I logged countless hours driving matchbox cars around the floor when Logan was little, and find myself doing the same with Beckett's trains.

I'll take them to church, where they'll learn about Jesus and how much He loves them.  They'll make friends and learn to trust God and find joy in His promises.  They'll learn to pray, and to worship and they'll learn to dance and sing loudly when a good song comes on.

Parenting is a journey.  It's one none of us get exactly right.  But I'm grateful that when the self doubt sets in, the questions roll around in my head or I'm not sure how to handle certain parenting moments I have something greater and bigger to turn to than a few blog posts.

Children are a heritage from the Lord, offering a reward from Him. 

Like arrows in the hands of a warrior, are children born in one's youth.

Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.

Psalm 127:3-5

More

As soon as Beckett was old enough, I started teaching him baby signs.  "More" was the first one I taught him - it took him MONTHS to finally sign it back, but when he did, ah what a victory.

He learned many other signs after "more" but it remains his favorite - the sign and word he uses above any other.

I'm sure I don't have to tell you that the mere presence of a toddler brings peace and quiet.  They have such a calming and patient demeanor...

JUST KIDDING.

They are demanding, impatient, full of tantrums and whining.  I call Beckett my little tyrant.  He has his utterly sweet moments where he's loving and fun - but to be honest, much of my day is spent maneuvering around screaming fits and blatant disobedience as he learns and explores the world around him.


He asks for more all day long.  He can have a mouthful of food, more in his tightly clasped little fist and still be demanding more.  It's not just food - he just wants more of everything.  Always.

It's exhausting.

And I thought today how much I learn about God and life from my kids.  Because while I get so exasperated with Beckett's constant requests for more, I can't deny that I myself demand more from God.  From life.  From my surroundings or environment.  It's hard to just be content.

If only I had...

A nicer car.  A bigger house.  Better clothes.  More friends.  More children.  A nicer vacuum.  A better dishwasher.  A bigger bed.  Nicer furniture.  More patience.  More drive.  More vacations.

If only I were...

Thinner.  Prettier.  Happier.  A better mom.  A better wife.  A better friend.  A marathon runner.  A better dresser.

If only my...

Kids behaved.  Husband always knew what I was thinking.

It's easy to look around and see what is lacking, and think about how much better life would be if we just had MORE.

When Todd and I first got married, we blended 2 families, I got pregnant very quickly and my company closed down.  There went one income, just like that.  And we were juggling the needs of 3, soon to be 4 children.  There were plenty of nights of wanting more.  We crammed 6 of us into a small townhouse until we could find something bigger.

And was I thanking God in those moments when we weren't sure how to stretch the paycheck to cover everything?  Or did the panic set in when I realized my 12 year old, two door car might not work for me anymore and not knowing if we'd have a way to buy a bigger one?  Or was I simply wanting and desiring more?

It is so hard to find contentment in the day to day.  We have a constant telescope into the best moments of people's lives via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc.  It's easy to compare and feel inadequate or jealous.

My little boy's constant requests for more shed some new light onto my own actions today.  As many times as I ask Beckett to stop saying more, I need to be saying it to myself.

Seasons

From about 2008 until 2012 I was part of a worship team.

I started singing background vocals as someone still figuring out who I was, where I was on my journey and very unsure of myself.  It quickly became the only way I knew how to connect with God.  On stage, I felt like I was part of something bigger than myself.  I felt, in those moments, that I was right where God wanted me to be.

In 2012, I took a break from singing.  There were extenuating circumstances - I was really, really busy. When I married Todd, I jumped into serving full force.  I sang on the worship team, I volunteered on the First Impressions team.  I helped out with the Girls Night Out women's ministry, I led Life Groups.  I met women for coffee, talked about life and mistakes and redemption and grace.  I parented my then 10/11 year old, I had a newborn.  Then the newborn got bigger, and the Thursday night rehearsals and Sundays were too much.

But - it was more than that.  While my relationship with God was growing, I still was fighting this NEED to be part of the worship team to feel connected to God.  I was learning other ways to connect with Him, yes - but there was no denying that the tangible act of getting up on a stage and singing worship songs was by far the most significant way I could connect with Him.  And I knew there was more for me - I knew it was time to be molded, to be shaped, to be pushed and to grow.  So I took a break.

Recently Harrison, our worship pastor, asked me if I ever got the itch to get up there and sing again.

And I'd be lying if I said I hadn't.  I'd be lying if I said some Sundays my heart didn't ache for the familiarity of that stage.  For the early morning call time and final run throughs, for the comraderie of the band members.  For the way I maneuvered past amps, guitars and cords in heels - for the rush of the countdown clock hitting zero.  I miss the way we'd all file off stage and into the band room, congratulating each other on a job well done or offering up constructive criticism on how to fix what went wrong.  And most of all, I miss that moment on stage when you just forget that there are hundreds of people with their eyes on you, and you raise your arms and are alone, connected, worshipping your God.

I have never been a great vocalist.  I've always wanted to be, but it's not my gift.  Yes, I can sing and carry a song decently - but I'll never grace the stage of American Idol or front a band.  I know I'll never make it big or be famous.  But there aren't many things that can reach down into my soul and grab hold of me like a worship song.  Play me a song about Jesus and I'll probably cry.  Because music touches me.  And it touches most people.  It's a medium that reaches across all ages, all genders - from children to seniors, music moves people.

And I was blessed - SO blessed - to be a part of it for a long time.  And I hope that someday, I'll be ready to take part of it again.

For now, I'm forcing myself to sit still.  To find peace.  To learn how to connect with God in a less tangible way than on a stage.  To find those worshipful moments when it's quiet and when I'm alone.  Or when I'm with my kids, or my husband.  To learn how to praise and give thanks without a spotlight.  For me, it was a much needed break.  God is stretching me, and He's teaching me, and He's using me in other ways.

Singing has been part of my life since I was a child.  But now, I choose to make peace with that being a season in my life that has prepared me for another season.  And I pray I'll revisit that season again, but this season - my season now - is exactly where God intends me to be.

All of my life
in every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship.
         - Desert Song, Hillsong

Is God moving you to enter a new season in your life?

The Cross

A friend and I have been emailing back and forth a lot lately, about God and loss, about how to move forward in your life when things are falling apart around you and completely out of your control.

She posed a question to me in her last email that really got me thinking.  It's not a question that I haven't thought of myself many times, but it was the way she worded it.

Basically she mentioned how when good things happen to us, we praise God for His blessing upon us. We give him all the credit for the good.  But when the bad happens, we say things like, "God can't intervene and stop the bad.  People have free will.  We live in a broken world"  And those things ARE all true, and I believe them whole heartedly.  But I admit, I paused when I read her words.  If God intervenes in our life enough to bless us with good things, why DOESN'T he intervene and stop the junk from happening?

And the truth is, this is just one of those questions Christians and non Christians alike have been asking themselves for ages.  It's one of the biggest questions out there - why would a good God let awful things happen?  Why does He allow suffering and pain when He COULD wipe it all out?  And why are we quick to jump in and offer praise over the good but write off the bad with a shrug and a quick response about free will and a broken world?

I was chatting with my husband about it, trying to figure out how I could translate my thoughts, my feelings, my faith into words that would make enough sense.  How could I give her the right words to express what I know in my heart to be true?    That sometimes there are no concrete answers our human minds can understand and sometimes it takes just pure and complete faith that He is there and He loves us.

Then Todd said something that I will never forget.

He said, "It all comes back to the cross, Miranda. Imagine you just had one son.  Just one.  He's your only son, your only child.  How much would you have to love someone else to give him up?  How much love would you have to feel to sacrifice your only son for people who sometimes hate you?  For people who don't care about you?  To see your only son being tortured and in complete agony and not swoop in and take it all away..."

It's not that this is a new concept for me - of course I know and believe that God sent His son to suffer for the sins of the world - for all of us.  But it was really good to reframe that idea - instead of wondering why God won't save US from our troubles, we can look to the cross and know that there has to be something bigger for us.  He didn't save his only son from being crucified and hung on a cross to die a slow and unbelievably painful death.

He did that for US and that means that even though we may not understand why we struggle or why unfair things happen in our lives and in the lives of those we know and love - the cross is always a great reminder to keep going and to have faith.  To look forward because there IS something better.

John 3:16, "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."

But

"Yeah, but..."

This has become kind of a funny little joke around here.  My oldest, Logan, prefaces almost every sentence with the phrase, "yeah but..."

Bless his heart.

I giggle to myself every time I hear it, but the truth is I found myself thinking the other day how many times I do it in my own life.  Ok, maybe I don't exactly say "yeah, but..." out loud but sometimes actions speak louder than words.

We run into problems when we try to be the God of our own life.

"yeah, but.."

I'm as guilty of it as anyone else.  I like to THINK I have turned it all over to God, but honestly, more times than I care to admit I'm whispering to myself..."yeah, but"

When I think about losing Lilia - my brain says, "Listen - God is in control.  He loves you.  He wants the best for you.  This may not make sense now, but it will someday.  He will reveal his plan in due time.  Eternity is bigger than this.   Your pain is temporary, and human..."

But my heart says, "Yeah, but..."  Yeah, but it hurts.  It hurts now.  I'm sad now.  I want a baby in my arms now.  I don't want to be blogging about miscarriage.  I want to be blogging about newborn life, and tiny little dresses and hair bows.  Yeah, but I wanted a daughter.

Or when I pray for a struggle our family is going through.

And my head tells me, "Be patient.  The Lord hears you.  Be persistent.  Persevere.  Don't lose faith.  Keep going"

But my heart says, "Yeah, but.  I've prayed about it 3 times already.  Heck, one time I even cried.  I begged.  I pleaded.  I asked reeeeal nice like.  I don't WANT to wait anymore..."

I think there will always be a balance between choosing God and battling the urge to be God of our own lives. It's something I have to remind myself of more times than I'd care to admit, honestly.

It is good for me to look back on my life, and see where God has provided.  Where he's taken care of me.  It's a cliche, but it's true - hindsight really is 20/20. Maybe He didn't swoop in and save me from a terrible trial, or maybe it didn't work out the way that I wanted to.  But the truth is, I'm not the God of my own life.  And the harder I try to be, the stickier it becomes.

Identifying your "yeah, but..." moments will help you realize where you need to focus on strengthening your relationship with God.  Where are the areas of weakness where you want to grab the reigns and make decisions based on your own desires, wants and feelings?

I'm working on narrowing mine down.

What are yours?