Keep Singing

We were exactly in the middle of our month long missions trip to South Africa. I, along with a few others, were randomly selected to go and speak at a women's prison just outside of Cape Town. We drove through the imposing gates of the prison and as we walked inside, steel door after steel door closed loudly behind us, locking us into the dreary building.

We started our time with worship. None of us had a guitar or piano, but we had a kickin' boombox and a cd. We got through the first song, no problem. We may have gotten through the second song as well, I cannot remember; the details have gotten a little foggy in the last ten years. Another song started playing; it was "You Raise Me Up", which was at it's peak of popularity.

I will never forget the way that these ladies joined in. Their faces shone with encouragement as they sang the words of this song.

And then, the cd started skipping. Our kickin' boombox was kicking it towards a slow death. I started praying that the song would start working. It was easy to see this song was ministering to these women and I was totally overwhelmed and intimidated at the thoughts of what could happen if we upset them or let them down. I was naive.

The song stopped playing entirely. I looked around the room with frightened eyes for one brief moment until...

the women kept right on singing. They were not going to let a boombox dinosaur ruin the moment that they were having with the song.

The singing filled the room and each face only became more beautiful.

It was a holy moment.

The ladies were in unfortunate circumstances in their lives. Truly, none of them were exactly where they desired to be. They had been met with hardship and mistakes and loneliness. Yet, they kept singing.

It reminds me of King David and his precious Psalms. There are plenty of psalms that were written in the midst of his life's pain. In the persecution, David wrote and sang. In the rejection, David wrote and sang. In his sin and shame, David wrote and sang.

His psalms speak still today that God can be found at the rock bottom of our circumstances. Each melancholy psalm pours forth its pain and then directs its gaze instead on the beauty and sovereignty of the Lord.

David too, kept singing. He let the song in his heart carry him through the storm directly into the presence of God.

Psalm 4: David begins with, "How long, exalted men, will my honor be insulted? How long will you love what is worthless and pursue a lie?" (v 2) and he ends with "You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and new wine abound. I will both lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, Lord, make me live in safety." (vv 7-8)
Psalm 5: David begins, "Listen to my words, Lord; consider my sighing. Pay attention to my cry, my King and my God, for I pray to you." (v 1) and ends, "But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them shout for joy forever. May You shelter them, and may those who love Your name boast about You. For You, Lord, bless the righteous one; You surround him with favor like a shield." ( vv 11-12)
Psalm 6: David begins, "Lord, do not rebuke me in Your anger; do not disciplines me in Your wrath. Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am weak; heal me, Lord, for my bones are shaking; my whole being is shaken with terror. And You, Lord - how long?" (vv 1-3) and he ends with, "The Lord has heard my plea for help; the Lord accepts my prayer." (v 9).

These are just three examples from a single page of Scripture. Each psalm ends in hope. David and the other psalmists poured out their prayers, focused on God's goodness, and found their burdens lifted (except psalm 88, which ends on a painful note. But that's another blog...)

Sometimes the song can speak the words that we cannot.

When we were pregnant with Ezra and had received the report that he may have chromosomal abnormalities, we had to wait until we could follow up on that report. It was a vicious five days of waiting and wondering.

During those moments when the fear tried to choke me, I would sit at our piano and play the only song that would bring me comfort: "Good, Good Father". I would sing through tears streaming down my face and dwell on His goodness. There, sitting at the piano and focused on Him, I could truly accept whatever fate awaited my precious baby.

I kept singing. It was all that I could do.

When your circumstances are not all that you wish they were, keep singing.
When pressures are pushing in at you from every side, keep singing.
When your heart is broken and battered, keep singing.
When anxieties threaten to tear you apart on the inside, keep singing.
When the loneliness is stifling, keep singing.

When you cannot do anything else, keep singing.

In the singing, you will find Him.

When Life Barks at You

Ezra fell down the stairs yesterday.

I heard him crying as I was changing out of my church clothes and in a moment of panic, wondered if I had forgotten to shut the door to the basement after laying Jonas down for a nap.

Coming around the corner into the kitchen and realizing that the door was indeed open was one of the scariest moments of my life.

I ran. I ran so fast that I don't remember how I reached him. I only remember the way I felt. I picked him up and held him close and checked him all over.

I was shaking and crying and terrified.

He was fine. Truly, I'm not sure how, but he was and is completely fine.

I, on the other hand, remained a mess. I ripped myself apart with thoughts of my incompetency as a mother. I felt like the worst mom in the world, negligent and forgetful and guilty.

The only counselor I ever saw pinpointed me from the very beginning: "You are way too hard on yourself, Gretchen." This was one of those moments. I curled into myself and fixated on my failure.

I felt sick all afternoon. The "what-if's" and "what-could-have-been's" terrorized me. I allowed them to. Logically, I knew that Ezra was okay. I knew that he was safe and healthy and perfectly perfect. Yet I was allowing my thoughts to reek complete havoc on my peace.

Then there came a moment of decision for me. I was watching a video of our worship experience yesterday morning at church. The worship that day was powerful, anointed, and broke some chains off of me. As I re-experienced that moment via video, one of the lyrics jumped out at me: "You rescued me so I could stand and sing, I am a child of God".

Rescue. I knew that God had rescued my boy, again. I knew that with my whole being. I just didn't know why. Then, in that moment, it hit me. God is rescuing Ezra for Himself and some greater purpose that I cannot yet fathom. Something in me just knows it. I don't need to fear losing a boy that God seems intent to rescue.

Even in my failure, I cannot break what God intends to keep whole.

I knew then that I had a choice to make. I could keep ruminating on what could have happened, or what could happen the next time I forget to do something important. I could tie myself up in knots with question after question, the worst case scenarios building a grim future for my life.

Or I could choose to see God's mercy in the situation. I could see His saving hand and pour out my gratitude to Him. I could laugh in wonder at the amazing protection that God has ordered for my precocious Ezra. That was a moment of distinction for me:

Choosing to see God's protection in my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection, and not my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection.

And then thanking Him with all I have.

A couple of nights ago, we were visiting my aunt and uncle who live on a beautiful piece of land in Canton. They have an adorable golden retriever named Jack, who is still quite puppy-like in his behavior. Jack is sweet and energetic and BIG. My boys love dogs, but they are not used to dogs that big. So when Jack bounced around with them, barking, they got scared. They ran. Jack, who thought they were playing, ran after them. This caused terrified screams and cries from their cute little faces.

There was one time in particular that Finn was running from Jack, screaming. Matt called out to him, "Finn! Finn! Just run to me!" Matt knew that if Finn would run to him, then he would be able to protect him. He would handle the dog and keep Finn safe. When Finn kept running farther and faster away, it was difficult for Matt to do anything. He needed Finn close to protect him.

However, Finn couldn't hear his daddy calling. The dog was too close and the barking was too loud. Those teeth were too big and the situation was too scary. So he cried and screamed, powerless to do much else.

This was such a vivid example to me of how God responds to us in the barking chaos of our lives. When circumstances are overwhelming, He calls out to us to come close, to draw near. He wants to enclose us in the shadow of His wing so that He can better protect us. Yet sometimes the noise and the size of our circumstances just drowns out the voice of our Father and Protector. In our fear, we end up running further away from Him Who alone can help us.

Ezra falling down the stairs was life barking at me. Barking at me about my greatest fears and my most intimate failures.

When I drew close through prayer, it was then that God could speak the words that would restore my peace and dismantle my anxiety. I could have spent many days tied up in knots and broken over what almost happened. I know myself enough to know that I could have spiraled into a hole of fear and guilt.

God is speaking. He is always speaking. I choose to stay close to Him so I can hear Him above everything else and so that He can handle the noisy dogs of life for me. Dogs chase and bark, but God draws and whispers. Dogs will demand our attention but God will invite it.

It takes desire and true intention to focus on God over the chaos of our circumstances. But when we do, we will find a Father willing and capable to protect.

Faith is a Shield - Armor of God

I was not prepared for how the week of faith would test me. This is otherwise known as the week of Ezra and the nickel.

God is faithful. I know that and I think that most of the time I live it. Yet there are those times I live defeated and broken. There are times that I do not live as though I know God is faithful. Mercifully, that does not affect His faithfulness. It simply affects my victory stance.

Hebrews 11:1 lays out faith for us as so: "Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen".

Those words - reality and proof - speak of certainty. Faith is certainty in God. It is confidence in God's promises despite circumstances or consequences. It persists in trusting God.

"Faith is acting like it is so, even when it is not so, so that it might be so, simply because God said so."  - Shirer

A simplified way of looking at it is faith = trust. Faith and trust both begin in the heart, but they are both proven in action. They are shown in obedience.

"Faith is acting like God is telling the truth...it is the process of adapting your behavior, your decisions, and ultimately, your whole lifestyle so that it accords with what God has asked you to do - without needing to see the evidence that it will all work out in the end...The act of faith is what becomes a shield of protection to guard against the enemy's attacks" - P. Shirer.

It was 3 days before I taught on faith that my sweet monkey boy Ezra decided a nickel looked tasty to eat. With a nickel lodged in his throat, we drove him the ER and waited for 4 hours. I held him through the night as they admitted us, as that was the only time he would really rest. I waited the next morning as doctors changed shifts and no one could fit the surgery into his schedule. I clung to him with tears trickling down my face, out of fear and sheer exhaustion, and listened to the surgeon explain the risks. I handed him over to the nurse so they could anesthetize him.

In that awful, scary moment, I felt God speak to me about faith.

I could have walked around the entire hospital or called everyone in my phone and told them how fantastic the doctors were. I could have gotten on the speaker system and lauded their abilities. I could have talked myself hoarse about my belief in their knowledge and education.

But if in that moment, I chose not to hand my son over to them, I never really believed in them at all. My faith in the doctor and nurses was proven when I gave them my son.

I knew that I needed to hand Ezra over to them because their abilities to help him far exceeded anything that I could do.

They said the nickel had to come out, so I believed them.
They said they had to put him under to get it, so I let them.
They said I couldn't go with him, so I had to let him go.

So it is with God. If we never hand our mess over to Him to deal with and allow Him to work out what needs to be worked out in our lives, do we really trust Him? Do we really believe Him? Do we really have the faith in Him that we profess?

Paul chose to describe faith as a shield. Shields are meant to protect us and act as a covering for us. That begs the question, what is faith meant to protect us from?

Paul says faith protects us from flaming arrows.

"In addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one" - Ephesians 6:16

You might be thinking, "Phew. It's been awhile since I've seen a flaming arrow."

It was revelatory to me when Priscilla Shirer pointed out that in Roman times, flaming arrows were not necessarily meant to take out an enemy. When someone was shooting a flaming arrow, it was meant to be a distraction from the real battle at hand. The intent was to get the other side so busy putting out those fires that they were disabled from fighting and vulnerable to attack.

Your enemy wants to distract you from the real battle. He wants to take your attention away from his strategy of war and he's relentless in the ways he will use to do it.

So, what's distracting you?

Arrows of condemnation? "You're always going to struggle with that sin and shame"
Jealousy? "You'll never be as pretty or talented as she is"
Insecurity? "Nobody wants you and you have nothing to offer"
Worry? "You're going to be sucked under that mess"
Sadness? "There's something wrong with you"
Doubt? "God doesn't love you, He just puts up with you"

There's a weapon for that.

This is where faith goes to work. As Shirer says, "We need to give our faith a job". Faith extinguishes flaming arrows, we are told.

Holding up the shield of faith renders Satan powerless. Trusting God is who He says He is and will do what He promised to do protects you from every single flaming arrow that Satan wants to use to distract you.

"If you want to see insecurity quelled, doubts suppressed, fears quieted, hate overpowered, or intimidation assuaged, move forward in obedience. In faith" - Shirer

Condemnation tries to get us to look at our sin. Jealousy tries to get us to look at others. Insecurity tries to get us to look at ourselves and all we lack. Worry tries to get us to look at our circumstances.

Faith looks at God. Faith sees His power and His goodness and His overcoming love for us.

And that's what makes us able to step out in action.

"If you are struggling to move forward in obedience to God, you do not need bigger faith. You just need to realize how big your God is. The more faithful and strong you believe Him to be, the more wiling you will be to depend on Him. Your level of faith will always be tied to your perception of God...you don't need more faith; you need a more comprehensive and accurate view of the faithfulness of your God" - Shirer

Rejoice, dear friends! Our shield of faith means that there is nothing with which Satan can come at us. Faith shields, protects, covers us - every day, every situation.

Peace as Shoes - Armor of God

The moment that I walked in the door after teaching on righteousness, my husband told me some information that immediately began attacking my peace. It was a financial issue, which is a common anxiety-inducer in my life.

I felt the familiar pangs of panic begin to tighten in my chest.

He was stressed out, I could see it. The good news is that when he gets stressed out, I know that there is no room for me to do the same.

I took a deep breath and assessed the situation for what it was: an excellent opportunity for me to walk in the shoes of peace for the next week before I taught on them.

Bring it on.

Most women get really excited to learn about peace. Whether one struggles with anxiety, worry,
discontentment, relational problems, or something else entirely, most every one can admit that she desires more peace in her life.

Right here, at the beginning, I need to say that peace is not a magic potion. It does not descend upon one's life like a fluffy, comforting cloud.

When I went through this study the first time, my teacher and friend, Heather, pointed out that peace is the one fruit of the spirit that cannot be conjured up. A person cannot will herself to peace. That stuck with me because I have tried, so incredibly hard, to make myself have peace. Nothing works.

Except...

In John 14:27, we see that Jesus bequeaths his peace to us; peace is already ours, but it does have to be fought for. There are a hundred things that can happen each day that could try to dislodge peace in our lives. Our circumstances constantly try to shake us. But we need to have the steady well of peace within us if we want to be able to bring peace to the circumstances around us.

"True peace is best detected and measured against the backdrop of commotion and confusion - when instability abounds, yet you remain steadfast; when disappointment and confusion are near, yet you're still capable of walking with Spirit-infused confidence, stability, and steadiness" - Priscilla Shirer

Shirer presents the specific type of shoes that Paul was talking about when he assigned peace to shoes. They were designed for battle and helped the soldiers to be effective on different types of terrain. These shoes had nail-like spikes that protruded from the bottom and allowed for firm grip while in battle.

They were meant to provide protection in the midst of the fight. These were not your mama's bunny slippers.

Paul wanted us to see that peace is meant to protect us from the crazy swirling around us.

While I had been nervous to teach on righteousness, I felt fairly confident teaching on peace. I educate myself on the subject of peace on a regular basis, because I need it. I've talked about my struggles with anxiety on this forum frequently. There's not a lot I need to rehash. The bulleted version is this:
*I've been prone to anxiety all my life
*I fell in a deep hole of it a few years ago
*God gave me wisdom to dig out
*I need to continue to be vigilant with peace to not get sucked back under the waves when they roar

The very cool thing is that the tools that I learned years ago to help dig out of my anxiety hole are extremely similar to what Priscilla Shirer teaches when instructing on the shoes of peace. This is not coincidence, it is solid truth and it's effective and powerful.

There are tested strategies that we can use to lock peace into place in our lives.

1. Peace is a matter of focus.
Circumstances that destroy our peace are empowered when we focus on ourselves. Self-focus is rich soil for things like anxiety and discontentment to grow quickly. The bad news is that we are naturally self-focused, but the great news is that we can do something about it.

With intention, we turn our eyes to God through worship. Worship restores our perspective because it reminds us of how powerful and beautiful God is. With intention, we turn our eyes to others through service. We ask what we can do to make someone else's day easier and how we can lighten someone else's load. We become reminded of how this world is not about us, and our comfort and happiness are minuscule matters in the scheme of things.

2. Peace is a matter of gratitude
When we choose to be thankful for all that God has already done and all that He is constantly doing for us, it is a consistent reminder that He is good and faithful. It starts with big things and then you will begin to feel a small amount of peace trickle in: God, thank you for the ones I love. Thank you for a job that provides. Thank you for a home as shelter.

The more you practice thankfulness, you start noticing smaller, more detailed things, but you feel it all in a bigger way: God, thank you that the sunrise this morning was perfectly timed so I could see it out my window as I got ready. The colors were really beautiful. God, thank you for that smile that my child gave me today. I could tell in that moment that he was feeling nothing but pure joy. God, thank you that my friend sent me that text that showed she was thinking of me. I needed that so badly.

Practicing gratitude opens our eyes to how constantly God is loving and caring for us. Peace floods in at this realization.

Shirer gives this equation: Trust fuels thanksgiving. Thanksgiving activates peace. I love this because it helps me remember that peace is already inside me, I just need to press the start button by giving thanks.

3. Peace is a matter of motion
We cannot hide from anxiety. We cannot run away from discontentment. These are temporary, ineffective ways of dealing with major heart issues. We must keep our feet moving in a forward direction to experience a lasting solution. We have to take that next step, fighting off the emotions that wish to strangle us in place.

When King David was fleeing from his son, Absalom, who was trying to usurp his throne, he wrote Psalms 3:3-5: "O Lord, look how my enemies have increased! Many are attacking me. Many are saying about me, 'Even with God (on his side), he won't be victorious'. But you, O Lord, are a shield that surrounds me. You are my glory. You hold my head high. I call aloud to the Lord, and he answers me from his holy mountain. I lie down and sleep. I wake up again because the Lord continues to support me."
David's safety and identity are both being threatened as he writes; you can feel his emotions trying to overtake him. In one of the best sermons I've ever heard on anxiety, Timothy Keller points out that the shield described in this verse was a specific type of shield that covered the front and top portion of a soldier. It was extremely effective in protecting those who moved forward in battle. However, if that soldier turned and ran, he was completely vulnerable to attack because his back was exposed. This is such a stellar illustration of how God's protection works best for us when we continue in motion. When we retreat and give up territory, our problems with anxiety and discontentment do not go away. They actually gain the territory in our lives that we have relinquished. We have not won when we run; we have only delayed our defeat for awhile.

When I mentioned above about our financial issue, it sounds like I handled it so maturely. Please understand, it sounds so simplified in a blog like this. That night, my mind still tried to jump to those worst case scenarios. My stomach still tightened with anxiety. My heart still started racing.

I still struggled.

But I immediately chose to see the attack on my peace as a gift in disguise. It took a few days for my mind, stomach, and heart to catch up with that decision. But they did catch up. Days later, I was walking in full confidence, knowing that the financial situation would be solved, one way or another. I didn't think this because I had any reasonable evidence for it. Rather, I believed it because I had chosen to fix my eyes on God instead of my situation. I worshiped Him and thanked Him for the response to my prayers before I saw it. I was not paralyzed in fear, but moved forward in the situation through prayer and fasting. The peace that was in the deep well within me expanded and overflowed into the circumstances around me. And?

And the situation resolved. Completely, and then some.

Having the power to choose where we fix our eyes is a powerful gift that God gives us. He could control our minds into peace if He so desired.

However, authentic relationship with us matters too much to Him. He wants us to trust Him because He's sovereign and loves us. He wants us to thank Him because He is good and takes care of us. He wants us to have His peace, that's why He gave it to us.

We just need to activate it.

Truth is a Belt - Armor of God

Numerous Biblical passages reveal Satan as the great deceiver: John 8:44, Revelation 20:10, Revelation 12:9.

He's a fabulous deceiver because he is so cunning. He takes a small piece of truth and twists it and contorts it until it is looks nothing like that initial, small morsel of truth. Satan knows that if he were to come at us with a blatant lie, we would readily recognize it and call him out on it.

For example, he can't come at us and say, "God doesn't love you." We know better than that; we have seen God's love and felt it in every fiber of our beings.

Instead he whispers: "God wants better for you". That's truth, right? We can accept that and let it enter into our minds. But it quickly twists: "I'm not doing enough...if I'm not doing enough, I'm not good enough...If i'm not good enough, God can't possibly use me...if God can't use me, He probably isn't pleased with me...if God isn't please with me, God doesn't love me."

One small truth that spirals out of control, and Satan has us believing lies. It's the same lie that he wanted us to believe, brought about in a way that makes more sense.

We are far too logical sometimes. Satan tries to get us trusting ourselves: what our eyes see, what our emotions tell us. The way he so cleverly presents information to us, it seems right. And that is why it is essential that we stay grounded in absolute truth. "Truth is never at the mercy of facts. Facts say I'm lonely or afraid. Truth says He will never leave me or forsake me" - Damon Thompson.

Thank goodness for truth! It is God's weapon that we can use against Satan's lies. I love how Priscilla Shirer defines truth as "God's opinion on any matter".

Shirer goes into fascinating detail on why Paul chose a belt as the item of armor to represent truth. Essentially, Roman soldiers would put on the belt before they put on any other piece of armor. The belt strengthened the core, and helped to alleviate the weight of some of the other pieces. It could also have the tunic tucked up into it, providing greater freedom of movement as it was needed.

In other words, the belt provided stability, support, and freedom. Truth does the same for us.

"With the standard of truth in place, you can adjust everything else in your life - your ambitions, choices, and feelings; your mind, will, and emotions - until all of it is "tuned" correctly. When you have a strong, stable, well-supported core, you can't easily be led astray by the enemy's clever lies" - P. Shirer

Truth gives us stability and support when the pressures of life get strong. It becomes our core support from which everything else branches. The trick is that we have to know the truth in order to be able to recognize the lies. We have to read the Word!! When Satan tempted Jesus in the desert, Jesus did not waste time reasoning with Satan, nor did he entertain his words for a moment. He knew the truth too well, and he wielded it precisely and effectively. He said no more, no less than the words of truth (Matthew 4).

One of the craziest parts of this summer for me has been the fact that I have had to actively use the weapons that I was preparing to teach.

The week that I was preparing to teach on truth, I was faced with a litany of lies. These lies came at me regarding some of the relationships that I most treasure. Circumstances made it seem as though I was rejected, unwanted, disregarded. My circumstances conspired with my emotions and twisted me into knots. I walked around in tears for days, letting myself be called Unloved and Unwanted.

"Satan's strategy against you is clever. He plans to zero in on your deepest insecurities and desires with the intention of showing you how you can bypass God to meet every single one." - P. Shirer

Then I remembered my weapon. I called upon truth. I marinated on the Word and I allowed truth to act as my anchor; it centered me in the middle of a raging storm. Truth calmed me down and allowed me to recognize the lie. Because I was calm, I could better communicate the hurt to those relationships that mean so much to me.

Understanding rushed in. Healing began.

Truth won. I had to know it, I had to call upon it, I had to lean on it. It is sturdy enough to stand on.

Truth is stability in a world of crazy. Truth is help in a storm of pain.

Big Old, Bright Red Target - Armor of God Intro

I knew I was asking for it.

I knew that if I took the necessary steps to teach this Bible study, it would be drawing a target on my back. I knew that God would want to walk me through what I was teaching before I got up in front of His precious women and acted like I knew what I was talking about. I knew that the information from the Bible study could change lives.

So I fought it for a few weeks. I bided my time. And then, finally, I allowed the big old, bright red target to be drawn on my back. I asked for it.

I signed on to teach the Armor of God study by Priscilla Shirer at my church. It has been a fabulous, difficult summer of learning and teaching! But I am not stopping there, no. I feel as though I am also supposed to write about the things that I learned and taught throughout this summer. God has seen me through so much. He's incredibly faithful. Maybe there is someone who could not attend the class but will read these words so that the powerful truth from this study can continue impacting and changing lives.

That's my hope, anyway.

Being more timid by nature, I tend to like to fly under the radar. But I have learned over time that that tactic absolutely does not work. Somehow, some way, I still get targeted; perhaps you feel the same? We may as well embrace it and wield the tools that can help us to battle.

My pastor gave a sermon a few weeks ago on the things that get under our skin and fire us up with a holy passion. That resonated with me because something immediately jumped to my mind that made it personal: I get passionately worked up when I hear of women who struggle with anxiety and depression.

The numbers are staggering, and they make me angry. And that, essentially, is why I chose to teach about the armor of God. Because there is a specific plan for battle, and victory is ours. We just need to live it.

Since Eve, the enemy has relished targeting women. I believe that the enemy loves to target women through our tender spots: our emotions and relationships.

Maybe you struggle with fearful thoughts and imagining worst case scenarios.
Maybe you are tired from fighting off thoughts of sadness and hopelessness.
Maybe you feel sick about how you cannot keep your temper and emotions under control.
Maybe you feel like a relational leper because you cannot seem to love others in healthy ways.
Maybe you let people walk all over you and have never felt loved in a way that feeds your soul.
Maybe you feel tied up in knots because of a fight that never seems to resolve.

Many days we feel like we're losing the battle. But it doesn't have to be that way.

In God's hands, our emotions and gift for relationship, the things that Satan wants to use to bring us down, can become strengths. 

Yet, in order to win the battle, we must first suit up.

Ephesians 6:10-18:
"Finally, receive your power from the Lord and from his mighty strength. Put on all the armor that God supplies. In this way you can take a stand against the devil's strategies. This is not a wrestling match against a human opponent. We are wrestling with rulers, authorities, the powers who govern this world of darkness, and spiritual forces that control evil in the heavenly world. For this reason, take up all the armor that God supplies. Then you will be able to take a stand during these evil days. Once you have overcome all obstacles, you will be able to stand your ground. So then, take your stand! Fasten truth around your waist like a belt. Put on God's approval as your breastplate. Put on your shoes so that you are ready to spread the Good News that gives peace. In addition to all these, take the Christian faith as your shield. With it you can put out all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Also take salvation as your helmet and the word of God as the sword that the Spirit supplies. Pray in the Spirit in every situation. Use every kind of prayer and request there is. For the same reason be alert. Use every kind of effort and make every kind of request for all of God's people".

Be Still and Start Moving

It has been a tough summer for me. God has been chiseling away at any place in my life where I have sought a safe place, other than Him. Relationships. Health. Ministry. Food. Finances. Relationships (again and again and again).

At times it has felt less like chiseling and more like God was using a machete to hack away whole parts of my safe havens.

And like chiseling (and hacking) tend to be, it's been painful. There have been tears. There have been angry prayers to God. There have been awful emotional reactions. There has been listening, learning,  and waiting.

I think, I think, I'm maybe kinda sorta starting to get a bit of the gist of it. Perhaps.

Sometimes answers come immediately. Some take their sweet time, like an old person driving around on a Sunday afternoon.

It is so easy to get frustrated and impatient in the waiting.

"God? Hello? You're still listening, right?"

There are a couple of different ways that I have tried to navigate this chiseling season.

1. Following my own instincts

We visited Matt's parents over Easter. Once I laid the younger boys down for a nap, I seized the opportunity to get some alone time with my oldest. We went "adventuring", which included throwing rocks in the river, walking the trails, and getting a little bit lost. I knew the way back to the house, but Finn wasn't so sure. Yet, since he's a 5 year old boy, he insisted on leading. He led us well, trusting his instincts and his memory. I complimented him at one point on doing a good job and he spoke, in true Finn fashion, "Your Finny is like a superhero. I can sniff the way home. Like a superhero dog."

I let him lead, because he insisted upon it. But I knew the way to our destination; if he got too far off track, I could always take control and redirect. So we meandered a bit, but still reached home. If I had led the way home, we would have gotten there quicker. But 5 year old boys really like to lead the way.

Adults like to lead the way sometimes too. We think we know best, and we don't always like to be told what to do or where to go. We know what we want and we are pretty sure that we know how to get it. So we take off and charge toward the goal line. The good news is that when we belong to God, He watches over our way. When we get too far off course, He resets our steps. In His mercy, He gives us the freedom to make decisions and in His love He helps us stay on the path to our destination.

We sometimes try to sniff our way home, not unlike a superhero dog, and expect God to bless wherever we end up.

Those who follow their instincts will try to look ahead to worst case scenarios and manipulate and control all the variables so things are in their favor. They try to manage all factors.

But there's another way, an arguably quicker way to reach our destination.

2. Follow the Leader

I was paying attention to the band a few weeks ago during worship. I rarely ever do this, so it was eye opening to me. It's no secret that Matt is a free flow in worship kind of guy. Most of the people on the worship team have played with Matt a long time and they know his signals very well. They know when his foot starts thumping, things are only getting started. When he backs away from the mic, keep it rolling and stay where you are. When the head nods, begin the new song. In those moments of free flow they are fully tuned in on him, as the leader, to tell them where to go next in the song. If one of them were to stop paying attention, that one could miss an important cue. Their eyes are on him, and they follow him. They trust his leadership.

Those who follow the leader focus on playing their part well and watching for their leader's cues. They study their leader to know the cues better. It's a sweet mix of watching, waiting, and acting.

One of my favorite verses for a long time was Exodus 14:14: "The Lord is fighting for you. You need only to be still!". I was in a season of transition when I clung to that promise. I would speak it to myself frequently to be encouraged in the face of the unknown.

One thing I didn't do at the time was read and study the surrounding text. In this passage of Scripture, Moses has led the Israelite people to the edge of the Red Sea. They are accosting him and accusing him, desiring to return to the chains of Egypt instead of pursuing the vast unknown. They preferred a safe cage to the arms of God. I would judge them for it, but I'm too busy identifying with them.

Here's what I missed years ago: right after Moses reminded the Israelites that God is fighting for them and to just relax, God responds: "Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to start moving." (v 15).

Er, God, what is it? Be still or start moving?

Both. 

The 'being still' has to do with our thoughts and emotions. It stops them before they take over and we act and react to whatever we feel. If it had been up to the Israelites, they would have returned to Egypt and lived in slavery.....out of fear.

The 'start moving' has to do with stepping out in faith, taking the next step that God shows you. If the Israelites had never taken that next step, they would have missed the spectacular experience of God dividing the Red Sea, for their freedom.  "Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea. All that night the Lord pushed back the sea with a strong east wind and turned the sea into dry ground. The water divided, and the Israelites went through the middle of the sea on dry ground. The water stood like a wall on their right and on their left." (vv. 21-22).

As we follow God's leading, we need to do our best to stay calm. That doesn't mean never crying or never praying to God in anger. It means rehearsing His faithfulness and the amazing things He's already done for you. It means remembering His goodness and the millions of times He's shown His love to you. It means being aware of His power and promises and the fact that He can change your situation in a moment and WILL change it if and when it needs to be changed. Until then, it's knowing He's got you.

But we also need to keep our feet moving. We cannot sit around and wait, letting our gifts sit idle or others' needs unmet. We keep our eyes on Him for cues, and we walk, knowing He will direct us.

The thing with waiting on God's timing is that it cannot be rushed or manipulated.

But it can absolutely, 100%, all the time, be trusted.

"Protect me, O God, because I take refuge in you. I said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord. Without you, I have nothing good.' Those who lead holy lives on earth are the noble ones who fill me with joy. Those who quickly chase after other gods multiply their sorrows. I will not pour out their sacrificial offerings of blood or use my lips to speak their names. The Lord is my inheritance and my cup. You are the one who determines my destiny. Your boundary lines mark out pleasant places for me. Indeed, my inheritance is something beautiful. I will praise the Lord, who advises me. My conscience warns me at night. I always keep the Lord in front of me. When he is by my side, I cannot be moved. That is why my heart is glad and my soul rejoices. My body rests securely because you do not abandon my soul to the grave or allow your holy one to decay. You make the path of life known to me. Complete joy is in your presence. Pleasures are by your side forever." Psalm 16

Fatherhood

I was newly pregnant and very hormonal when Matt leaned over to me in the middle of a church service and said, "I hope that our baby is a little girl, because I want to be the daddy to her that you never had."

In that moment, every emotion in my body tried to punch its way out of my body at the same time. It was powerful and memorable.

We have never had that little girl we thought we would.

But on this Father's Day weekend, if there was one thing I could say to my husband, it would be:

He has been that daddy to our boys.

He is present.

I asked Finn today what is his favorite thing about his daddy. He said, "I love that he wrestles and plays and swims and flies a kite with me. And that he lets me go to church with him at rest time sometimes."

It is Matt's presence that matters to his son(s).

In all of my experiences with fathers, I realize more and more that so much of fatherhood is presentness.

And not simply being in the same room. But being present with one's presence.

I could sit in the same room with someone for 5 hours, staring at a tv, and not feel like I matter at all.
But give me 10 minutes of invested conversation, and my value goes through the roof.

I have been reading in Exodus lately. At the beginning of chapter 26, God outlines the blessings that he longs to give to His people (vv. 3-13).

In these verses, God promises immense blessings if His people obey Him.
He promises fertility in the land (vv. 4-5, 10)
He promises living in safety in the land (v. 5)
He promises removal of dangerous animals and of the sword (v. 6)
He promises victory (v.7)
He promises His favor (v. 9)

When I was reading this the other day, I caught a glimpse of God's Father heart towards us.

The essence of these verses show the role a father ideally plays for his children: provision, peace, and protection.

Lastly, and most beautifully, God promises His presence: "I will place My residence among you, and I will not reject you. I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people." (v 11-12).

God's ultimate promise to bless us was His Presence.

This leads me to believe that God's plan for earthly fathers is to provide their children with the same:
Provision. Peace. Protection. Presence.

Fatherhood at its fullest:
- teaches
- leads
- disciplines
- invests
- asks questions
- notices what is unsaid
- provides
- brings peace
- protects
- SHOWS UP DOG TIRED AND SELFISHLY WANTING TO REST BUT POURS FORTH THE LAST BIT OF WHAT HE HAS SO THAT HIS CHILD KNOWS THEY ARE LOVED, VALUED, AND TREASURED.

Simply being present with one's presence makes all the difference, however much of it one have to give.

Fatherhood is presentness.

Ugly Stitches

Nobody told me when Finn joined Rainbows last fall that sewing would be involved.

Each new verse he memorized, each new stage he conquered, brought a badge into our home that needed to be sewn onto a (very ugly) vest.

I hadn't sewn anything since 8th grade Home Ec.

Here was another situation in which it would be painfully obvious that I do not excel at very many mom-like capabilities.

However, when the time came, I reached way back into my 13 year old brain and recalled how to work the needle and thread.

I have to admit, when that first badge stayed on, I was pretty proud of myself. I shook the vest, actually a little surprised that it was secure. If one were to look solely at the front of the vest, my work was pretty good! The badge was firmly in place and securely held. It even looked kind of nice, like I knew what I was doing.

But, oh, the back of the vest.

That was where my struggle was on full display. The thread was all over the place. There was no order to any of the thread placement; it was ugly, just truly ugly. Each time I pricked my finger with the needle or shouted in frustration at the thread getting knotted again was spelled out clearly in the chaos that erupted on the back of the vest.

The front of the vest served to remind me that I had conquered sewing and it brought to mind each time Finn's face would light up when he saw another badge on his vest. He was so proud, and I was so proud.

The back of the vest made me feel embarrassed and a little ashamed that I wasn't adept at this critical mom-task.

Front of the vest? Kind of pretty and put together. It made me feel proud and accomplished.
Back of the vest? All over the place. It made me feel shame and guilt.

People can be similar.

In life, it can be so desirable to only show the front side of our vest. We will put our gifts and our honors on display, hoping that no one catches sight of the ugly underbelly where all the sweat and screams poured forth.

The process to progress is chaotic.

On the surface, where most people can see, we are held together and polished; a new badge gets added to our vest of life and we beam with pride because we worked hard for that.

But if one were to lift back that vest a little, do a little digging, they would see that keeping those badges in place was not that simple. They would see the chaos of our stitches and suddenly know that the journey to the badge was not always pretty.

The gifts we have rarely make obvious the struggles that helped them blossom along the way.

Maybe you're deeply compassionate.....because you've known deep pain.
Maybe you exercise great wisdom.....because you've been on the receiving end of great foolishness.
Maybe you make others feel good about themselves.....because you know what it's like to feel unvalued.

Perhaps the stitches that hold your badges, or gifts, in place had to be torn out a couple times and begun again. Maybe they are all over the place and the path the needle took doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Maybe your thread had to be reinforced several times before the gifting stayed secure.

You might be the only one who ever knows. After all, those ugly stitches are mostly reserved for the back side of the vest.

Can I encourage you, though, to show your ugly stitches too?

Let your gifts and honors be on full display! They need to be seen. Never try to hide what God has ignited in you to do.

But don't hold your vest so tightly to yourself that no one knows about your ugly underbelly. Let others see your struggles, your pain, your weakness. Your ugly stitches might help someone feel better about their own.

Beautiful, gifted front side or painful, shameful back side, it is all the handiwork of God.

We are not perfect, but His work in us is.

How to See Others

We all feel a little invisible from time to time. Whether we're drowning in schoolwork or diapers or meetings, sometimes the things that we love and work hard for are the very same things that cause us to feel a little erased.

We can be in a crowd of thousands and still not feel seen.

Encouragement is an act of seeing others. 

I used to be afraid to encourage others. It felt uncomfortable and awkward. I would see all of these wonderful, amazing things about other people, but would not speak it out. It felt like risking too much to speak it out; it exposed my inner world in a way that made me feel too vulnerable.

The older I get and the more I go through my own seasons of feeling invisible, the more I realize the absolute necessity of encouragement. Encouragement is a breath of fresh air, a hand lifting another up, and a salve for a hurting soul. The right word at the right time can make all the difference.

I have come to know the truth that when I see something awesome in another person, it is not mine to withhold, but a gift to give.

"Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift." - Ephesians 4:29

When I see something great in someone else but choose to withhold it, it only makes me feel smaller. It makes me pick myself apart more, not less.

But when I speak it, it expands my ability to love and be loved. The more I do it, the easier it becomes.

"So then, we must pursue what promotes peace and what builds up one another." - Romans 14:19

My boys are learning the art of encouragement and it can get pretty hilarious at times! So hilarious in fact, that they serve as excellent examples of encouragement that doesn't exactly encourage.

The other day Finn said to me, "Mommy, you're the prettiest girl...in our family."

I laughed at his sweetness and said, "I'm the only girl in our family!" He just shrugged his shoulders. His heart was in the right place, but the encouragement fell a little short. It was honest and well-intentioned, maybe a little too honest? It was kind, but didn't exactly help me feel special. I believe true encouragement calls out something specific in another person. It recognizes gifts and goodness that God put into a person, and for a moment it is seeing a person through God's perspective, with all of the hope and purpose and love with which He packaged them.

Now Jonas, my little sweetheart in every sense, is a natural encourager. It is a gifting I already see growing in him. Any time I give him a compliment, he shoots it right back to me. This is a daily occurrence in our home:
"Jonas, you're the best boy in the whole world!" (I say this to all my boys...sssssh!)  And without fail, Jonas smiles back, "You're best boy in the whole world too, Mommy!"

Uhhhh, thanks?! Encouragement like this rings a little insincere. It is spouted off quickly with little thought or intention. It can almost make the receiver feel like the person saying it doesn't really know her at all.

Then there's Ezra. He's a baby, so he doesn't talk yet :) . But for example's sake, he doesn't encourage others at all. Every positive thing about other people is met by him with silence. This is the very worst kind of encouragement because it is that which is not spoken. It is the kind that festers within the mind of the one who could have given a great gift. The encouragements that are not spoken block the light from entering someone's day.

What isn't spoken out, dies with you.

Fortunately, my boys have a phenomenal daddy to teach them. A few weeks ago, Matt stayed home with the boys while I had a full day of counseling groups and a women's leadership meeting. I popped in to nurse Ezra, then popped right back out. He was in charge of every meal, every diaper change, every mess clean up.

When I walked in the door that night, he's collapsed on the couch. He looks at me with tears coming to his eyes and says, "I don't know how you do it. I could never be a stay at home dad. You love us so well, and you do such an amazing job caring for our boys. Even when you think you don't handle situations well and get frustrated too easily, that's not true at all. You are very patient. I appreciate you so much."

His words were so sincere and specific, my heart melted in a puddle and tears came to my own eyes as well. You can tell encouragement is accurate and timely when it shows all over the receiver's face. All I could say in response was, "Thank you. That means so much to hear!"

I felt more seen that day than I had in a long time.

I encourage you to encourage others, as kind thoughts about them enter your mind, speak them. Let the person know that you see them.

You might just change someone's day.

"Show family affection to one another with brotherly love. Outdo one another in showing honor." - Romans 12:10

To the Woman Who is Afraid to Ask for Big Things

To the Woman Who is Afraid to Ask for Big Things,

Maybe it's healing. Maybe it's a relational issue. Maybe it's a financial miracle.

I understand. I've been there too, hesitant and timid. I know what it is like to wait and wait and wait some more, refusing to ask because I was not sure that what I wanted would ever happen for me.

I also know what is it is like to be so incredibly sick of waiting that I would try to seize control for myself, most often with disastrous results.

All the while, I was refusing to ask for what I really wanted.

So I would endlessly wait. And I would needlessly control.

It felt safer than asking. It felt easier. I could handle waiting and I could handle pseudo-control, but there were many reasons that I felt I could not ask God for a miraculous movement.

At various times:
I have felt invisible and unseen by God and man.
I have felt like I don't have anything to offer in return.
I have felt like my request would probably just get rejected anyway, because rejection was the norm.
I have felt let down and disappointed by God.
I have felt like too much and yet not enough at the same time.
I have felt afraid to draw attention to myself.
I have felt bound.

If you're afraid to ask for big things from God, perhaps you identify with one or more of those reasons? I wonder if you were reading those through and one of them shot through your heart like an arrow?

Ugh, my friend, I understand. The frustration and the anxiety and the tension, I get it. I wish I could see you face to face and laser shoot hope from my eyes to yours. I'm not very touchy feely, but I wish I could give you a hug and before I let you go I would shake you a little in order to snap you out of it.

I wish I could tell you to your face that even when it feels impossible or improbable or a total waste of time, I greatly encourage you to ask.

Can I tell you why?

The Bible is full of women who were afraid to ask much of Jesus. And yet they received what they really needed. 

* If you feel invisible and unseen, I would point out the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15:21-28.
She was pointedly ignored by Jesus, but a fighter spirit arose within her and she debated with the Son of God. This did not annoy Jesus but impressed him: "Woman, your faith is great. Let it be done for you as you want." (v28). Please know that God is the The God Who Sees (Genesis 16:11-15). When you feel pushed aside and unimportant, He sees you and He knows you. He loves you.

*If you feel like you have nothing to offer, I would direct you to the poor widow in Luke 21:1-4.
She did not have much, but what she did have was highly honored. What you have may not have high esteem with man, but when it is surrendered to Jesus, it can be multiplied and empowered beyond anything you could dream. You just have to bring what's in your hand.

*If you expect rejection, I would show you the woman at the well in John 4:4-26.
In cultural terms, Jesus surely shouldn't have bothered with her, as they had opposing religious backgrounds. In social terms, a great rabbi should not concern himself with a woman with questionable morals. Even Christ's disciples wondered why he was speaking with her. But he engaged her and pursued conversation and invited her despite every reason not to. God doesn't see all the reasons not to bother with you. He looks at you and sees possibility.

*If you've felt let down by Jesus before, I would ask you to read about Mary and Martha in John 11:17-43.
These women were close friends with Jesus. They trusted him and expected great things from him. But he didn't move the way they expected. He moved in a way that caused them great grief and pain. They had no way to know how miraculously God was about to move, but in order to do so, he needed to allow the wounding first. He still heard their cry and he still moved in their pain, but it had to be in a way that would more greatly display his power.

*If you are afraid to draw attention to yourself, I would direct you to the sick woman in Luke 8:42-49.
She desperately needed a divine touch, but was lost in crowd. She knew if she could just get close enough to him, that healing was available. She had great expectation for what he could do, but had little opportunity to ask for it. This woman had struggled for years with an ailment that isolated her. She was used to managing on her own, and when she had put her faith in others they had fallen woefully short of the help they promised. Yet when she reached out to Jesus, she was healed. Not only was she healed, she also found belonging, as the Son of God called her "Daughter."

*If you feel bound, I would want you to read about the crippled woman in Luke 13:10-17.
She was bound so severely that she stood out in the crowd. She was different, her daily life drastically affected and setting her apart. Jesus recognized what was keeping her crippled. He called it out and untied her from her bondage in a moment. The text doesn't even say that this woman showed up to hear Jesus teach that day. We don't know if she even knew who he was. He healed her because he desired freedom for her. He used a woman cast aside and discarded to display his glory.

*Lastly, if you feel like too much yet not enough, you are my soul sister. I have felt that way for so much of my life. I would beg you to read about the sinful woman who anoints Jesus in Luke 7:36-46.
This woman comes to Jesus broken and ashamed. She knows the gravity of her sins and how they have weighed her down. She knows how short she has fallen. But she trusts that Jesus does what he said he could do. Forgive. As she weeps at his feet, the exhibition of her adoration baffles the others in the room. She's too much for them, and they don't understand why Jesus is even letting her touch him. In his marvelous mercy, he defends and protects this woman. In the presence of many, he forgives her and sends her in peace, honoring how much she loved him. The woman who was not enough yet too much had just ministered to the Son of God. What she could not do for herself, she allowed God to do for her when she had a revelation of His goodness and mercy.

Each of these women, ignored, poor, rejected, let down, broken, crippled, sinners.

The one thing they all have in common is that they needed something from Jesus. They asked in a variety of ways, and they received in a variety of ways.

But indeed they received exactly what they needed, because they came to the One "who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us" (Ephesians 3:20).

I am slowly learning that when I neglect to ask God for big things, I rob Him of the opportunity to be glorified. The only reason any of us are even here on earth is to give Him glory.

So to the woman who hesitates to ask of God, please learn from my mistakes. I encourage you: don't let prayer be your last resort. Allow prayer to be the very first step you take in your time of need.

Speak. Ask. Expect.

Give God the invitation into your situation and watch Him change the unchangeable in your life.

You can't be so invisible, that He doesn't see you.
You can't be so poor, that He can't use you.
You can't feel so rejected, that He doesn't love you enough for 1,000 who didn't.
You can't be so disappointed, that he won't redeem the situation.
You can't be so timid, that He doesn't know exactly what you need.
You can't be so bound, that He cannot absolutely free you.
You can't be too much for Him, that He doesn't delight in your love.

Coconut or Baby Wipes?

"Gilbert, darling, don't let's ever be afraid of things. It's such dreadful slavery. Let's be daring and adventurous and expectant. Let's dance to meet life and all it can bring us, even if it brings scads of trouble and typhoid and twins!" - Anne Shirley

I've always loved that my birthday is in January.

I'm a big Christmas girl, and having a birthday in January has always given me something to look forward to when the after-Christmas lull hits.

I know that when the weather is at it's coldest and there aren't any fun holidays or breaks or vacations to look forward to, I can still anticipate a day for myself. Whatever my birthday brings, even if it's a bit of a let-down, I always approach it with a feeling of excited expectation.

This year was no different. The thermometer fell to stifling lows in the middle of the month, but I brushed it off because my birthday was coming!

My boys and I all struggled through colds and sicknesses of varying degrees, but I didn't let it get me down because my birthday was coming!

I went back to work after a brief maternity leave, but I took it in stride because my birthday was coming!

I love birfdays.

Anticipation. Excitement. Expectation.

I played the game Bean-boozled in my counseling groups this week, and the looks on the kids' faces before they ate the jellybeans were priceless. They didn't know whether they would be getting a good flavor or a nasty flavor, but they were excited nonetheless.

There is a flurry of anticipation that arises in us when we know something is coming, even if we don't know exactly what it is.

Coconut or baby wipes? It doesn't matter in that moment before you pop it in your mouth; the excitement is the same.

In each day, we don't know whether what we encounter will be wonderful or awful. But we can still approach it with excitement, expecting God to be at work. Jeremiah 29:13 promises that we will find God when we're looking for Him.

This year I felt a little convicted about my excitement regarding my birthday. I live in such a state of expectation during the month of January or when there is something fun on the calendar. But in my daily life, I trudge and muddle through. I go through the motions just trying to make it to nap time or bed time or mommy time.

I exist, but I don't expect.

How much do I miss by living this way?

There are moments and opportunities in each day that I know I miss by keeping on the blinders of boredom.

I want to expect God to move. I want to anticipate that when the sun rises, He is going to do good things. He's going to show His love for me, He's going to give me opportunities to love others, He's going to remind me of His faithfulness.

I don't want to live bored or deprived because I missed a chance to see God's goodness in any situation.

I love how The Message version interprets Romans 8:15: "This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike 'What's next, Papa?'" (MSG)

I read that this morning and was reminded again of the kind of life that God calls us to as His people. There is no monotony when it comes to God's power and grace.

I long to live intentional. I want to live with my eyes open. I don't want to miss a moment of God.

I want to expect Him.  

"Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive--it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we knew all about everything, would it?" - Anne Shirley

So, I Hate to Vacuum...

My least favorite chore is vacuuming.

I actually kind of love cleaning my kitchen and wiping down surfaces and sweeping up crumbs. I like cleaning my bathroom, wiping spots off of the mirror and toothpaste out of the sink. I even kind of like doing laundry, the redundancy of wash, dry, put away, repeat.

I love seeing progress: the dirt wiped away, the counter clean and bright for one, brief moment.

But I hate vacuuming. It takes a whopping amount of energy or motivation for me to lug out our circa 1985 vacuum cleaner, pick up everything off the floor, plug and unplug the vacuum from room to room.

Ugh. It's the worst.

I think that the main reason that I loathe vacuuming so much is because our carpet is awful. It is wrinkly, it is stained, it is ugly. Until we can afford to remove or replace it, we are stuck with it.

Our carpet is so far gone that it is tough to even tell when it has been vacuumed. In essence, it looks dirty no matter how recently it's been cleaned.

Therefore, I don't see any progress or betterment, so it is difficult to enjoy my hard work. Shoot, forget enjoy, it's hard to even justify lugging our vacuum cleaner out of hiding and picking up every toy off of the floor.

Matt doesn't have to help with a single other household chore; if he will just vacuum for me, my heart explodes in star showers of love for him.

At least when I do other household chores, there's an automatic payoff of momentary cleanliness. When I vacuum, I am still looking at ugly. The carpet may BE clean, but if it doesn't LOOK clean, what's the point?

When it comes to growing deeper in my walk with God, I think it can be similar to my vacuuming conundrum.

Whatever progress is made can be indiscernible at times, which makes it tempting to give up or slack off. I often cannot tell that there is a difference in my growth, especially when it feels like I am fighting the same battles daily, weekly, annually. Whats the point? Why lug out the giant vacuum cleaner or the giant study Bible if it makes no difference? If I feel no different? If my struggle feels the same?

For starters, just because something doesn't look clean doesn't mean it isn't. Just because someone doesn't seem clean, doesn't mean she isn't. Psalm 139 makes it beautifully clear that God knows me more than I even know myself. It's a reminder to me that He sees the progress. I was saved and cleaned and made righteous through Jesus' death on the cross. So even when I don't feel it, I can know it is true. 2 Corinthians 5:21 helps me remember, "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God"

Secondly, retrospect is a great revealer. I may not feel different day-to-day in my walk with God, but when I look back at where I was 2 years, or 5 years, or 10 years ago, I can see how the incremental shifts have added up to abundant change.

Lastly, I need to remember that I don't read my Bible and pray and seek Him because it helps me to feel a certain way. I do those things because I love Him immensely and I want to know Him more.

If the start of this new year is weighing you down more than anything else, and it feels like some struggles will never fall away and your mess remains, I want to encourage you.

Keep pressing in. Keep seeking Him. Keep your desire for Him alive. Stay faithful and you will become fruitful, as He turns those incremental shifts into abundant change. Do the hard work of lugging that metaphorical vacuum cleaner out of the closet and clean away the mess, even if it feels the same when you're done.

He is working. He sees the change. In Him, you are clean.

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up" - Galatians 6:9

That One Time Jonas Fell

Last night, my boys had beans so I did what any mommy of bean-filled children does on a nice night: we went to the park!

At this particular park, we typically park on the street because its parking lot is on another planet.

We played, we swung, we had a mah-velous time.

As the time came to leave, my boys took off running toward the car. My competitive boys were racing because, of course. As they got closer to the car, I realized that while Finn knows well enough to stop at the car and not run into the road, Jonas may not.

The worst case scenario ran quickly through my mind and my 35 1/2 week pregnant body started trying to walk a little bit faster. Let's be honest, I hadn't moved that quickly in weeks.

Before I could trick my body into a full blown trot, a beautiful thing happened.

Jonas fell.

I caught up to him quickly, picked him up, and wiped his tears. As I did these things, I thanked God that my son had fallen.

Because even though he had gotten a little hurt, it could have been so much worse.

He fell in the soft grass when he could have fallen on the harsh and unforgiving pavement of the street. I hate even going there in my mind, but he could have been hit by a car.

He suffered a minor wound and was spared a potentially mortal one. That fall, however unpleasant, was a blessing.

Naturally, it made me think about how God allows negative things into our lives. Because He is all good and all loving, it is vital to see our own falls in the grass as pockets of grace that save us from far worse fates.

These past few months have not been the easiest our family has ever seen. There have been stressors of many kinds: financial, physical, emotional, spiritual. It has been easy to become discouraged and beaten down.

Then I remind myself of Who God is: in His very nature He makes no mistakes and everything that comes from Him is overflowing with love,  and I cannot despise these difficult days.

Last night's fall o'Jonas reminded me that God will often allow soft trips in the grass, if it helps us to avoid death in the street.

He will allow a heartache if it will prevent a mistake that can't be taken back. He will allow a disappointment if it will prevent a lifelong regret. He will allow a failure if it will prevent us from falling away from Him.

When I look at myself and my circumstances, I see some hard stuff. When I look at Him and His goodness, I see only situations that will arise to bring Him glory.

Gratitude, the Fair, and My Nostrils

I woke up this morning grateful to be able to breathe through my nose. It's something I take for granted too often, these nostrils of mine. But they really are a gift! Like, they just work, open for my breathing pleasure, and I don't have to think twice about it. Miraculous!

The past few days, my nostrils were not working so well. They were totally and completely clogged, congesting my breathing and causing my eyes to spring forth tears like a plentiful fountain. Many times did I protest in that time, "I JUST WANT TO BREATHE!"

I woke up this morning, breathing, beautifully breathing through my nose. It was fabulous, and I actually thanked God for nostrils. I'm not usually cognizant of my gratefulness for nostrils, in fact, I almost always take them for granted. 

Being taken for granted is something most parents understand all too well. All of the little things we do on a daily basis go completely unnoticed. Shoot, many of the BIG things we do go unnoticed and thereby unappreciated. 

This past week we took our boys to the fair for the first time. We figured Finn would love the rides and Jonas would love the food. Sure enough, the first couple of rides, Finn's face was a bright beam of sunshine and he excitedly and sweetly waited for the next ride.

But then something peculiar happened. Instead of lavishing us in thanks and adoration for the fun time he was having, he began to get a little greedy. He began taking the whole experience for granted. Suddenly his sweet, eager waiting became sour, impatient whining. He became picky about which rides to go on, begging us for whatever looked like the next big thrill.

We had to say "no" to a lot in that stretch of time. Every "no" was for his good.

"No" to the sleazy pirate fun house.
"No" to the funky looking roller coaster.
"No" to the spinning craziness his daddy can't bear to ride with him.

Eventually, due to tiredness or overstimulation or what have you, our boy was a crying, screaming, demanding spectacle. Long gone was the bright-eyed boy who was eager just to get to ride any ride. The joy was gone, the thrill was gone, the gratitude was gone.

It was evident to me in that moment exactly why gratitude is so important to God.

When Jesus healed the 10 lepers and only one returned to thank him (Luke 17), he most certainly noticed, asking, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?" The one who returned received a special blessing.

Without gratitude, we become spoiled brats: looking for the next thrill to get our adrenaline pumping, demanding the next big thing as though we deserve it, and forgetting that there is a gracious Hand behind it all.

Like the Israelites after their dramatic rescue from the Egyptians, we begin to whine and complain and focus on all that we do not have.

We take our eyes off of the God who parted the Red Sea for us and center our attention on ourselves.

When we forget to be grateful for the abundance of things He's already given us (breathing through one's nose, for example), we become instantly greedy for the next big blessing. "More, more, more!" becomes the cry of our heart, rather than the quiet beauty and strength of a soul surrendered to Him.

Choosing to be grateful puts us in proper relationship to God, humble before Him, acknowledging that every good thing is directly from His hand and out of His love for us.

It is remembering all that He has already done, the many ways He is presently showing His love for us, and all that He has promised to do.

Gratitude helps us to not take the little motorcycle ride for granted, and reminds us that if we are told we can't ride the Tilt a Whirl, it's most certainly for our own protection.

The fact that Finn acted demanding and selfish did not change my love for him in any measure. However, his behavior did require some discipline and reminded me that maybe he will need a bit more preparation before we try something that grandiose again.

There are reasons we do not have everything our hearts desire. There are reasons we go through times of waiting. There are reasons we feel lousy for being demanding and selfish.

"And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says, 'My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son'. Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined - and everyone undergoes discipline - then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." - Hebrews 12:5-11

When we remember to be grateful for all that has been, all that is, and all that will be, our joy in this life is tangible. We honor God, but it's really just another strategy He uses to bless us and make us more like Himself.

That's His goodness, and that's what we choose to remember.

The Miraculous Mundane

The last few days, I have been living under one dark cloud of crank.

I wake up with a light heart and ready to face the day, and then some moment comes and reality breaks in and the crank comes out.

I don't want to be active. I don't want to veg. I don't want clean. I don't want to play. I most certainly don't want to run errands with my kids, even though our refrigerator shelves are feeling lonely.

Somewhere in the mixture of the monotony of daily life and the endless pop-up demands of mommy hood, I grow weary. Of all of it. I don't want life to be boring and predictable, but I also don't want any surprises.

I wipe down counters, I put dishes away, I sweep the floor, I feed the faces, I pick up endless superhero "guys", I add things to shopping lists, I hang up clothes.

The monotony.

I kiss a fresh ouchie, I clean sand out of hair, I break up a fight, I wipe some snot, I break up squabbles, I correct an outburst.

The endless pop-up demands of mommy hood.

I am one who has a laser like focus. Just ask Matt what happens when he tries to talk to me if I am reading or trying to write. If I am deep in thought, it is hard to break through to me: "Gretchen? Gretchen??? Hello?"

Because I am naturally formed this way, I have always enjoyed being by myself when it came to personal devotion time with God. Growing up, that meant shutting myself away in my bedroom. In college with multiple roommates, that meant retreating to a prayer room where I could concentrate. As a mommy of one, that meant waking up early in order to check it off my list before the craziness started. As a mommy of two, finding pockets of time that are uninterruptible is nearly impossible.

In our first year of marriage, I would hole myself up in our bedroom to have quiet time with God when we would get home from work for the day. Read my Bible, check. Pray through my written list of prayer requests, check. Write in my journal, check. It didn't take long for me to notice that Matt never sought such time like this. When I would ask him about it, he'd say, "I just talk with God throughout my day, whatever I'm doing".

Hmmmm. Novel idea. But isn't it easy to get distracted that way and aren't there some days where you reach bedtime and realize you haven't spoken at all? That was my fear of trying that approach. I didn't want to risk missing Him.

There have been times this pregnancy where I have felt totally disconnected from God. My brain is one big pile of scrambled eggs and there is no ability to laser focus in on anything except the demand of the moment. I miss the connection. My love language is quality time and lately so little of it feels quality. It feels broken, rushed, slopped together. I'm in survival mode half the time.

I find myself missing early morning Bible reading while I drank my coffee. I miss running on the treadmill while I listened to worship music or a sermon. I miss shutting myself in a room without the door being knocked on or opened or hearing crying on the other side of it.

It's easy to tell myself: this is just a season. You'll be able to connect with God again soon. The boys are only young for so long and they won't need you this much forever. Soon you'll be able to find your pockets of time again when you can check 'connect with God' off the daily schedule.

But the truth is, I'm not really okay with that. I'm not okay with feeling connected someday. I want more of Him today: A) Because I can't make it through the day without His joy and strength and B) Because He's worthy of being wanted every single second and not put up on some shelf for when relationship feels convenient again.

I "joke" every now and then that if it wasn't for God, I would be hooked on some kind of medication to deal with life. I say it smiling, but it feels true. I need Him and I know it. I don't like feeling unplugged.

I read this the other day and it totally resonated with me:

"The great lie of motherhood: I'll find Him when life slows down or this burden lifts or my present struggle no longer nips at my heels...instead, the fight is to find Him when the dishwasher breaks and a friend just doesn't understand me and my daughters' wounds surface again" ("Every Bitter Thing is Sweet" by Sara Hagerty)

Yes!!! I felt it firmly as I underlined the words in the book. It is this moment, every moment really, where He is available to be found. There is something in me that expects Him to show up in the good moments and not the mundane, maniacal ones - which, honestly, is when I need Him most.

When I try to make it through my monotony or pop-up demands without Him, I do myself a disservice by acting in my own power. But when I see every single moment as a chance to meet with Him, I create space for Him to move and speak.

This was verified to me when I read the next day in my devotional:

"His purpose is for me to depend on Him and on His power now. If I can stay calm, faithful, and unconfused while in the middle of the turmoil of life, the goal of the purpose of God is being accomplished in me...it is the process, not the outcome, that is glorifying to God...God's purpose is to enable me to see that He can walk on the storms of my life right now." ("My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers)

God doesn't want my someday, He just wants today. I can't honor Him tomorrow; I only have my right now, in which I can choose to see His hand in the midst of the mundane and the chaos of motherhood.

Just a couple of months ago, my mom posed this question to our parenting class at church: "How will you know that you've been a successful parent?"

I answered assuredly, "If my boys grow up and live for Christ." Nothing else matters to me more than that. By stating that, I was essentially branding myself a failure if I don't see my boys choosing Christ. In a way, I probably will feel like a failure if that happens. However, my life and how it honors God should not ever be based upon the choices that someone else is allowed to make.

This too was written by Sara Hagerty and caused me reexamine this goal:
"If my chief end as a mother is anything less than knowing Him and carrying His glory in my life, I will walk through these years empty".

This moment is all I have to choose to honor Him. It's all I have to choose to love others and put their needs ahead of my own. It's all I have, whether it's mundane or miraculous.

I will meet with Him in the chaos, and not just the convenience of a quiet room.

I will choose to see Him in it all.

Talking with Finn About His Uncle Matt

A couple of weeks ago, we were on our way to our 24 week doctor's appointment and we happened to drive by Woodlawn Cemetery. Finn, for the most part, knows what a cemetery is. He gets the gist.

He also knows that I have a brother who died in a car accident when I was 13.

On this particular day, the drive past the cemetery awoke a flurry of questions within my curious 4 year old. He was wondering about his Uncle Matt.

Finn: What did he look like?
Me: He was tall and skinny. He was handsome, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he loved to dress like a cowboy.
Finn: What did he like to eat?
Me: I remember him making cinnamon applesauce. And I remember that every time Mummy True or Kiki made cookies, he always tried to sneak some of the cookie dough. So he must have liked cookies!
Finn: When will I get to see him?
Me: We won't get to see him again until we get to heaven.
Finn: Will you be happy to see him then?
Me: So, so happy.
Finn: Will you run to him?
Me: You bet I will.
Finn: What would he do if you yelled at him?
Me: Uhhh, he probably would have laughed at me! He was not afraid of me. He was a protector.
Finn: Now you have a new protector.
Me: I do? Who's that?
Finn: Daddy.

Throughout this conversation, I got to talk about my brother Matt, which I don't get to do all that often. I like talking about him. I answered questions about him that I really had to think about, questions I've never been asked before. The whole thing brought about a bubbling in my heart as I spoke. I loved every moment.

While we were waiting in the doctor's office a few minutes later, Finn, who rarely talks to anyone that he doesn't know very well, struck up a conversation with a lady who was also waiting. He told her about heaven and how he was going to see his Uncle Matt there someday.

This is called hope, and this is why we walk this clumsy walk of faith. There is a hope that propels us forward, a hope that a better place awaits us, with the King who created us. A place free from pain and loss and suffering.

This hope is why we talk to our kids about God and try to instill in them a purpose outside of themselves. It's why we continue on in the face of darkness and confusion.

This hope is why we worship, why we pray, why we seek, why we love.

Honestly, it's why we can wake up each morning and keep trying.

There is more, so much more, than this world alone offers us.

When we got home that day, I found some old photos of my brother to show Finn what he looked like. It's the face of one that I can't wait to see again someday. It's the face of one that I want my boys to know, even if they don't know.

My big brother would have been 42 years old today. There is no getting back the time that we lost on this earth with him.

But there is the hope that remains.

One day: when I reach heaven, right after I throw myself at Jesus' feet, I'm searching for that face.

Fear and Ice Cream

If there was one thing that I could wish for my boys to absolutely not to inherit from my gene pool, it would be my tendency towards anxiety and fear.

I can say, with relative certainty, that Finn inherited my olive skin tone, my stumpy legs, my sensitivity, my timidity......and my fear.

He is a typical first-born in many ways: he likes to be in charge, he benefits greatly from a strong schedule, and he likes to know everything that is going on - at all times.

What that looks like lately is that he asks questions when a situation is new to him. Lots and lots of questions.

Where are we going?
Why are we going?
What are we doing?
Who will be there?
Will you stay with me?
What do they have there?

He is a kid that likes to be prepared. He prefers to have knowledge of what he is walking into.

My mom tells me that I was much the same way. Before she would take me somewhere, she would prep me with all of the details so that it would lessen my anxieties. For example, when we would go to the doctor she would say something along the lines of,

"We will walk in to the waiting room and will wait there for a few minutes until they call our names. When they call our names, they will lead us back to the doctor's office where they will weigh you and check your height. The doctor will use a really cool tool to hear your heartbeat. Then it will be time for a nurse to come in and give you a shot. It will hurt for a second, but the pain will be over with quickly. I will be with you the whole time, and then we can get ice cream."

I found such comfort in knowing each step. When it was laid out all in front of me like that, it felt manageable and something that I could undertake. My anxieties would lessen. 

That is the kind of inherited fear I see in Finn - an anxiousness that lessons when one feels prepared and feels like he can manage whatever he is about to face.

So yes, some fear is inherited. 

But I am learning the older my big boy gets, that some fear is also learned. 

He can latch onto fears simply by watching the way that I act and react to the world around me. 

For example, I have a big old nasty fear of spiders. They are gross, they are ugly, and they have 8 spindly legs that they use to haunt my dreams. Don't even get me started on the webs they are able to create. Sticky, stretchy, yuck. 

Finn knows well my fear of spiders. It used to be that when we would play in our basement, where the spiders feel extra homey, I would screech at the sight of one and he would hop up and kill it for me with toilet paper. "My HERO!" I would exclaim. 

But there came a day a few months ago when all of a sudden Finn didn't want to kill the spider. He, too, wanted to run from it and stare at it in disgust, wishing it would drop dead from a evil glare. He began to shake his head and cower in the corner at the suggestion that he kill it. 

From curiosity and zero fear to cowering in a corner; I can only surmise that he learned this by watching his mommy. 

 - Fear as a personality trait can be inherited. This includes a certain tendency toward timidity and a fondness for being in control. When my mom would give me that speech before we ventured out, she was helping me to trust myself that I could handle what lay ahead. I do the same thing with Finn so that I can prepare him and cut way down on the chances that he might have a meltdown when he feels overwhelmed. This is a natural proactive parenting response. 

However, God does not treat us in the same way. He does not wish for us to trust ourselves, but leaves us in the dark about so much that lies ahead so that we may trust in Him. He does not lay out a step by step plan for us to take, but guides us one foot in front of the other. He does not give speeches like my mom gave, save for one line: "I will be with you the whole time" (Deuteronomy 31:8). This alone is to be enough to quell our fears of the unknown future. We are never left alone or unloved. 

 - Fear as a behavior can be learned. Our kids learn so much from watching us, maybe too much sometimes. They learn how to treat others, how to react in certain situations, how to spend their free time, and how to work through the chaotic world of emotions. What do you do when you are angry, or sad, or overwhelmed, or fearful? That will often be the first thing your child tries when he or she feels something similar. It honestly scares the bejeebers out of me that my boys are learning so much from me, because I know how short I fall in so many areas. I wish I could send them to my sister's house for two weeks and say, "Watch her instead. That's how it should be done." Behaviors are learned. Therefore, behaviors can also be un-learned and re-taught. 

I don't want my boy to prefer cowering in a corner, so I am going to try my hardest to squash the next spider I see as quickly as possible and with the biggest wad of toilet paper I can get - even if it kills me (and it just might). 

We don't have control over what our children inherit from us, but we can do something about the behaviors that they learn from us.

I can teach my son that faith stands up to fear, be it a new situation or a nasty spider. The best way I can teach him is by showing him how.

And that even though I can't prepare him for every little thing he might face, there is One that is always with him.

Also, if he's been a good boy, there can be ice cream afterwards (because Mommy will probably be wanting it too)!