His Mercies Are New

God's mercies are new every morning. Lamentations 3 tells us so.

I've always thought needing new mercies every single day is a sign of spiritual weakness on my part.

When you hit bottom, you suddenly realize acknowledging your need for His mercies is the only chance you have for hope. 

My spiritual weakness is thinking I should perfect my Christianity before coming to Him instead of acknowledging my depravity while running to Him. 

My greatest and only need is to have His presence wholly present...every single day.

I can resist and sit in my own sorrow and filth, refusing to cry out to the One who can lead me out of the mire. Or, I can humble myself and admit my self-reliance needs to dissolve as I allow Him to fully operate in my life.

Scripture doesn't lie. Seeking and drawing are what He longs for us to do. I know from experience, life is so much better His way.

So I choose to seek Him. As I seek Him, I will find Him. (Matthew 7:7-8)

I choose to draw near. As I draw near, He does, too. (James 4:8)

My discouragement in myself and my weariness from life's hardships should not prevent me from meeting Him right where I am. They should be what propels me toward Him so that I can be the person He wants me to be.

He wants me to love mercy (Micah 6:8) so that I can be merciful to others. I can't show great mercy to others if I don't first learn to accept His great mercy. 

He wants me to love others with His genuine love (John 13:34). I can't love like He does until I willingly accept His great love for me. 

He wants me to encourage others in their times of pain with the same comfort He provides me during mine (2 Corinthians 1:3-4). I can't comfort others if I don't first choose to accept His comfort.

I'm beginning to understand what Paul meant in 2 Corinthians after he said he asked God to take away the "thorn" in his flesh three times:

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:9‭-‬10)

I can now appreciate my weaknesses and adversities. If I bring all of my shortcomings to Him...if I draw closer during my trials, they will help me have a more intimate connection with my Creator, learn more about His character, and ultimately, become more like Him. 

Instead of pleading with God to take my flaws from me and quickly get me through trials, l now pray that He uses them to keep drawing me closer to Him so that His power can operate fully in my life. 

I don't need to function as a "broken" individual because I can't get it right. It's my brokenness that can perfect His work in my life. 

Beauty For Ashes

When you feel like your sin will define you forever, trusting that He will make beauty for ashes (Isaiah 61:3) is difficult.

I grew up in Washington State. I saw the devastation of the eruption of Mount Saint Helen's only a few years later as a little girl. Ash everywhere. Fallen trees. Destruction. Death. 

Yet, there were shrubs and green leaves popping through the piles of ash.  

That image of life amid destruction has stayed in my mind for years whenever I heard that He will give you beauty for ashes.  It shouldn't be though.  He doesn't promise in Isaiah that He will create beauty in between ashes, He says He will REPLACE your ashes with beauty.  

There are people who come to Mount Saint Helen's and remove ash from the area. They then put it through a refining process and create these hand blown ornaments full of color and beauty.  If you were to see an ornament, you would not even realize the ash was in there.

That's what God wants to do for you.

Maybe you are in a situation where the pressures of poor choices made has created an explosion that threatens to choke the life out of you. Perhaps, remnants are still falling. Piles, still smoldering.  All you can see around you is loss. And you wonder how anything good can come out of so much hurt.

BUT you trust God. You know that His word is true. His promises, secure. 

He says to you, "Give me all this...leave none behind. This pain you feel right now is because you are being refined.  All the impurities are being taken away, sifted out and tossed.Your world may seem to be spinning out of control, but it's just Me, holding you and guiding you through the fire. Turning your destruction into a beauty to behold."

So that sin that you think will always represent weakness and shame, that sin will instead reflect His craftsmanship.  People will not even recognize your sin when they see you. Your mistakes will be refined in the fire and all that will remain of that pile of death is the beauty of His handiwork.

Fully Giving

Sometimes you need to just let go. Let go of the past and the things that hinder you from moving forward. Let go of the future and the things that worry you to the point of mental paralysis. Let go of the background noise in the present that distracts you from your priorities.  

Sometimes you need to have a "come to Jesus" moment and realize that the only "things" that matter are the truly important things. For me, that's my relationship with Christ. My marriage. My family. Wholesome and fulfilling relationships. Ministry.

Friends, we cannot fully live if we don't fully give. Fully give our desires to His control. Fully give ourselves to our marriage so that He can make us fully one in Him. Fully give our attention to our children. Fully give quality time to the relationships that God wants in our lives. Fully give ourselves over to God so that He can make us into all that He wants us to be for His purpose.

Fully giving is fully scary for those who feel vulnerable and exposed when they let down their guard. I'm not suggesting you lose yourself and give up your dreams or goals. You shouldn't become a doormat for people to wipe their emotional needs all over you.  

Fully give so that you can fully live...a full life of joy and contentment in Him. A full life of hardships and trials...and of mercy and grace. 

We get one chance to leave our mark in this world...to leave His mark in other lives. Let's make it a great one. Where others see Him in us. Where those we love really know that we love them. Where the people we minister to see our hearts align with His.

Fully surrender so that you can live a live with arms wide open to whatever He has in store for you. 

Fully giving is fully living in Him.

I'm tired of being mediocre. Today, I choose more. Today, I choose to fully embrace Him.  Today, I choose to fully give all areas of my life to Him. Today, I choose to fully live.

"Scripture reassures us, "No one who trusts God like this - heart and soul - will ever regret it." - Romans 10:11

Run To Him

"Her mommy was so happy to see me. It was like you were there!"

Sweet girl was speaking of her friend's mom who saw her on a field trip that I couldn't attend.

The declaration blessed my heart.  My girl had joy in her soul because someone saw her and made her feel valuable.  So much so that she felt her presence was as precious to this woman as it is to me.  That God would do that for her, makes me cry.  That He would do that for her in my absence, makes me sing praises to my King. 

Isn't that what we all long for?  To feel loved?  To understand we are valued?  To know that people are happy when we are near?

Do you complete daily tasks feeling lost and unseen?  Wander to and fro while wondering if anything has value?  Wrestle with to-do lists while refusing to rest?

All the while, He waits. 

His word promises that He rewards those who come to Him:

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.  (James 4:8)

Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. (Psalm 90:1)

He defines your worth.  

He declares your value.  

He longs for your presence.  

As you lean in, He smiles and welcomes you into His dwelling place.

Don't over-complicate His truths. When you seek Him, you will find Him.

 Run to the One who will run to you.

Run into his presence like my boy chased down his favorite mouse in this video.  I like to think the excitement my little guy felt in his presence, is the excitement God feels when we desire to be with Him.

The Christian Life Cycle

Groggy from a late night of basketball watching (aka: being a supportive wife during March Madness), I pick up my devotion book, Jesus Calling by Sarah Young.

"There is a time in your life when you must learn to let go: of loved ones, of possessions, of control."

I stop reading. Those words...so wise. The follow through...so difficult.

How do we let go of the things we were once attached to deeply?  

How do we say, "God, this situation is yours, not mine?"

How do we let our hearts reject the rejection that we feel?

How do we let the constant reminders not be a source of pain?

How do we overcome a situation that has left our once rose-tainted glasses completely shattered as our vision blurs with tears?

I had the opportunity to be in a car by myself for a couple hours last night. As a mom of three littles, I can say that this rarely happens. Since I had just been in the van with all three children for the same amount of time, I was excited for the quiet and yet missing the noise all at the same time. 

Excited, yet missing.

Happy, yet melancholy.

A paradox of life really.

We can be in a season of great joy, yet in one of great pain. We can find ourselves grieving losses, yet celebrating arrivals. We can fear staying the same, yet still fear change. We can have growth in one area, yet experience failure in another.

For this girl who has realized that I do much better focusing on one task at a time than trying to do five things at once, this simultaneous myriad of emotions annoys me and can leave me feeling overwhelmed.

Here's the thing I'm learning: I become what I dwell on. 

I love to declutter my home regularly. If I ever need inspiration, I watch a few minutes of Hoarders and in no time I have bags of stuff to donate and get out of my house. It is so freeing dropping all the bags off, knowing that our "junk" will be someone else's treasure. 

Yet, how often do I actually declutter my mind? How often do I take all my thoughts to God and say, "Can You take these off my hands? Can my junk be turned into treasures for Your glory? Can You restore this situation into something beautiful? Can You help me sift through the thoughts that I just need to trash so that I can make more room for dwelling on You?"

I don't want to be a hoarder of emotions that are clogging up my thought life and preventing me from living an abundant, grace-filled life.  

Christian author Ann Voskamp tells of a conversation she had on an airplane with a rabbi:

"'You know how we all want more?' He holds up the full-to-the-top water bottle in front of me. 'Look at this. You can't have more unless you pour out. You can only receive more as you pour yourself out.'" 

So I'm pouring myself out to Him and letting the One who will never fail me, fill me. As I give Him my burdens, I am free to focus on His love. As His love fills me, I can pour it out to others for His glory. And, repeat.

It's a constant give and take, release and receive. It's the true cycle of the Christian life.

I continue reading my devotion and these words speak straight to this broken, yet whole heart:

"The One who never leaves you is the same One who never changes: I am the same yesterday, today and forever. As you release more and more things into My care, remember that I never let go of your hand. Herein lies your security, which no one and no circumstance can take from you." 

He Who Promises Is Faithful

Do you ever condemn yourself? 

Think you don't measure up?

Wonder if you are further away from God than you used to be?

Feel like because you fail daily, maybe He has turned from you?

Or, is that just me?

I had just had a conversation with my husband. "You're closer to God than you think."  

"Not possible." I said as I started to list my ever growing list of flaws.

A few minutes later - unaware of my discussion with her daddy - my girl wanted to show me the words she had just highlighted in her Bible.

Then this...

Sometimes, God needs to wake you up. Make you aware of His truth.

Never - this side of earth - will I arrive at the pinnacle of closeness to God. I'll always need to draw closer. Lean in. Press forward.

This I know though, His grace sustains. My guilt is large. His forgiveness, larger.  

His promises secure.  His redemption final.

Hope For Sale

Here's the thing about hope:  you can think it's lost.

You can ask me how I know. 

You can grow impatient in the waiting. Tired of the soul fighting.  Pained because of  battle wounds.  You feel forgotten.  Lost.  Helpless.  Hope vanquishes.  Once you feel hopeless in one area of your life, that hopelessness spreads.  It festers.  Chokes the living right out of you.

"To live without hope is to cease to live." -Fyodor Dostoevsky

Recently I was in my beloved Target.  The toddler was in need of new shoes.  He seemed to grow overnight and every pair at home no longer fit. So there he stood beside me in his worn out, too small shoes.  I was looking at shoes  while singing nursery rhymes to entertain him, and lost in thoughts of a morning conversation with a friend. "What if hope really is lost?" one of us asked.  We agreed, hope is never fully gone until the final breath is breathed.  Probably.

Right there in the shoe section, my boy decided to test his mommy.  He smiled first and then ran.  As I quickly grabbed his arm, I looked up.  Shoes that I had wanted to buy a few weeks before because of the cuteness factor were staring right at me.  Taunting me because this mama refuses to spend $24.99 on toddler shoes that won't fit in a couple months. Plus, it's been a week of unexpected expenses, so in an effort to support the man who supports us, unnecessary spending was not happening.

"Wook, Mama!  Wook at shoes!" He had spotted them, too.  "I want dose shoes!" 

I tried to get him to look at a less expensive pair.  He refused.  Sat down in defiance. 

"I WANT DOSE SHOES!"

I grabbed a pair for him to hold.  Anything to not cause a scene.  It was then I saw the glorious red tag covering the original price.  That tag that has convinced me to buy things I didn't need before because who doesn't love getting something that was $19.99 for $4.99?  I looked to see what the new cost was and almost laughed out loud.  Those $24.99 shoes were marked down to $7.48.  The two pair left hanging were not his size, but my boy was holding the pair that was. 

It's a good thing too, because he had already taken off his worn out shoes and I quickly realized he would walk no more without the new pair on his feet.

We walked around the rest of the store.  The toddler talking about his new shoes and grinning.  Me, grinning at my boy and thinking about my God.  He can take a silly pair of shoes and remind me of His goodness.  Of how He looks out for us.  He can gift me with the exact shoes we both liked for $17.00 less on the same week that we shelled out hundreds of dollars in repairs and suddenly hope springs eternal.  He reminds me that some things are worth the wait.  More special than if I choose to gratify a want right away.  

Sweet boy started to dance and sing:  

"I wike my shoes!  I wike my shoes!" 

His joy was contagious.  Strangers smiled. My heart soared. I almost texted my friend to tell her hope was on sale at Target for $7.48.

Some days hope feels lost.  Some days you find it in the shoe section at Target.  Truth is, ALL days His hope remains steady...even when we forget it's there.

Fresh Slates

A new year.  Fresh hopes.  New goals.  Big dreams.  Plans to live better.

So what happens when you're almost a full three weeks in and realize that the struggle has been a bit too real?  Routines have not been established.  Goals have not been pursued.  Dreams are nowhere closer to being fulfilled than they were on December 31st.  What happens when you have already grown weary of 2018 and are saddened that it doesn't seem to be shaping up to be any better than 2017?  What if you're lost in a sea of grief that still makes you feel as though you're drowning?  What if the habits you wished to get rid of followed you with ferocity when the clock struck midnight on January 1st?  What if your child is still sick and there is no hope of a remedy?  What if you are still battling cancer?  What if you are now jobless?  Newly separated?  What if the hope you had just a few days ago has waned?

What then?

My daughter was crying the other day because someone had walked in the one part of our yard that still had freshly fallen snow.  The rest of the snow in the yard had long been "messed" up with footprints and sled marks and remnants of snowball fights.  This portion, though, she planned to keep "beautiful."  

"Sweet girl, nothing lasts forever.  That beautiful snow is going to melt.  It will be gone in just a couple days.  This snow that has footprints and a snowman and all these marks will melt away, too. What will make you most happy about this day when you remember it later?  Will it be the snow that remained beautiful but that you never touched?  Or will it be the snow that you played in and laughed in and enjoyed?  The snow that made the memories is now not as pretty as the snow that you never walked in, but the memories will carry you through until the next snow fall."

I don't know if she really got it or not, but she stopped crying.  In that moment, I understood this:

Fresh slates are refreshing for the soul and beautiful to look upon. They quickly get mucked up with all that comes with living.  Some of the marks are harsh and sting much like a snowball to the face.  Sometimes you feel like your life is spinning out of control as quickly as you can sled down an icy hill.  There are those moments where you work hard toward your goals and build your legacy piece by piece - kind of like you make a snowman...and sometimes they fall apart much quicker than it took to built.  Other times, there are laughter and joy-filled moments that echo in your soul like the children's laughter echoed through our neighborhood on this winter wonderland-filled day.  There are bad moments and really bad moments.  Good moments and really great moments.  All these moments...all these marks on your slate tell a story of a life lived.  So don't give up if your slate seems "messed" up.  Don't think you need to wait for a new one.  Keep making your marks.  Dig in your heels when you start to slip.  Continue to scrape off the areas that have hardened with time.  Remember that what plagues you now will eventually not sting quite as much.  Cherish the moments that are worth savoring.  Learn from the moments that hurt.  And look up.  Look up to the One who holds the stars.

May the words of this Christian song ring true in your life in 2018:

If You can hold the stars in place

You can hold my heart the same

Whenever I fall away

Whenever I start to break

So here I am, lifting up my heart

If You can calm the raging sea

You can calm the storm in me

You're never too far away

You never show up too late

So here I am, lifting up my heart

To the One who holds the stars

Psalm 147:3-5
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
4 He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name.
5 Great is our Lord and mighty in power; His understanding has no limit.

Emoji Reminder

My mind is filled with thoughts that I want to write down.  So I open up a blank page.  Then my two sons start fighting over a Hokie bird.  We get distracted by a cardboard box and a game of running away from the "Box Man."  I return to my page to simply sign out.  Laughing to myself at thinking that I could ever write a post while my tribe is awake and bored and begging to go outside in the snow when it's not even 20 degrees out there yet.  Anxious thoughts of how to entertain these children all day start to come.  Then...then I see what's written below and while I don't feel like the "best" at anything these days...the sentiment is nice.  So as I go take care of a toddler who is now running around the house naked, my heart is filled with hope and joy and thankfulness for God using my 7-year-old girl and some emojis to remind me that these long days of loving on littles who all have minds of their own is not for naught.

I love you mommy you are the best. Love Addi!❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁❤😁!

Those Extraordinary Ordinary Moments

He dances and lifts his toddler hands as he watches his favorite worship band.  Each day the words that flow from his mouth while he sings are easier to understand. Extraordinary ordinary.

The little girl who gave her grief for weeks is now one of her "favorite best friends." Sweet, second-grade toothless smiles shine bright when they're together. Extraordinary ordinary.

He works so hard to provide well for our family and wanted to replace our 18" TV that was starting to lose color but it was super low on our priority list. Someone who didn't know his wish decided to gift us a 48" TV in great condition.  Extraordinary ordinary.

He was in tears because his prized football from his daddy was accidentally thrown on the roof of the school and there seemed to be no way to get it down.  Sweet friends who are like family found a way and celebrated in our sweet boy's joy.  Extraordinary ordinary.

I was cold and cranky this morning but texted some precious sisters in Christ and together we commiserated and laughed. Suddenly my load felt a little lighter.  Extraordinary ordinary.

Life is full of extraordinary ordnaries:

Young cousins who count down until the next time they see each other.

Sisters who find a way to communicate daily even through complicated schedules.

A husband who is more patient than his wife ever deserves.

A grandparent who delays surgery to make sure he can share Christmas with his grandkids.

Children who often teach their parents more than we teach them.

Neighbors who always make sure to wave.

Friends who check in often.

Playdates.

Family dinners after a long day.

Laughter that fills a house that love has made a home.

Extraordinary ordinary.  It infiltrates our lives.  Yet, for this stubborn, feisty, and a little weary human, it's sometimes easy to look past the daily blessings and focus on the thoughts that seem to hinder me from praising God.  But He is so loving.  When I seek Him, I find Him.  When I look around me, I can see His hand in every detail.  I don't need grandios events to know He is with me.  Suddenly the "darkness" that once flooded my mind is filled with the light of His goodness.  And, while I am not sure who first coined this term, this, my friends, is extraordinary ordinary.

The Fall Birthday

The baby we lost almost three and a half years ago would have been born this week.  While lost in thoughts of the three-year-old Fall birthday party that will never be, I watched my toddler who was lost in a world of bubbles and wonder.  If not for that fateful day in May when God allowed the heart that beat inside of me for 84 days to suddenly stop, this boy wouldn't be.  How I long to hold that sweet one, but then I wouldn't know the joy of a little guy who will stop in the middle of a temper tantrum to comfort someone if they pretend their crying.  I desire so much to get to hold the hand that we saw waving to us during an ultrasound only days before we miscarried, but then I wouldn't know the feeling of holding my smallest buddy's hand as we take our daily walk around our neighborhood.  I always wanted an Autumn baby, but then I wouldn't get to plan an Easter egg hunt on the birthday of our boy who reminds us daily of the new life that comes with Spring.  I wish to see our three-year-old playing in the yard with our other children, but then I wouldn't see our curly-haired tot looking mischievously at his siblings as he tries to ride his tricycle into the road.  I wonder what our family pictures would look like with a baby who was born in late October, but our family pictures are so special with the baby born in the middle of April. Our family is complete...and yet, it'll never be fully complete.  I will always be the mama of more than three children...it's just that most people who see our kids pile out of our minivan will never know that.

Grieving for a lost baby can all be a bit too much to take in, which is why I finally realized this:  There's no point in wondering why anymore.  It just is.  We'll never know why God chose us to walk this road.  Why He chose our family story to hold an indescribable pain that 1 in 4 families can understand.  We don't feel we should have been spared from this journey. Why should we have been?  We just wish it was different sometimes. Like when our 7-year-old questions why she can't have that sibling here with her.  Or when thoughts of the little life gone way too soon takes us by surprise. Or when our six-year-old - who almost never speaks of his sibling in Heaven -  randomly said yesterday that he wants to see the stone where "Izzy" (their name for the baby) was buried.  There is no stone.  No place that "she's" buried. That hurts.  Deeply.

However, I truly believe that some of life's greatest lessons and some of our most "prized" pieces of wisdom often come at great cost.  It's almost never fun in the process.  It's not fun now.  Yet, if it wasn't for this loss, I wouldn't relate to the suffering of so many women.  Like the grief of a precious friend who is remembering the loss she experienced on the very day that the doctor had said I would most likely give birth to the one we lost.  Why people release balloons for children they never got to really know.  That it's OK to say nothing "encouraging" when someone loses a child and only offer prayers.  I wouldn't understand that prayer needs to be said for those who long to hold their babies more in the quiet, nighttime hours than in the lively, daylight hours.  I wouldn't know the loneliness that comes with grieving for the one you never got to hold.  The desire to have something more than just a pregnancy test or ultrasound picture of the one you will always love but never get to see.

So this weekend I'll release two balloons with no fanfare :  One for our precious gift from God and one for the babies that were taken far too soon from family members and friends of ours.  We'll eat a birthday cupcake.  I'll pray that maybe for a second God will let our little one hear me say, "I love you."  And as my toddler enjoys his bubbles, I'll thank God for the miracle of life.  For the gifts He gives and the gifts He takes away.  For how He turns pain into understanding.  Sorrow into joy.  I'll never "get over" this loss but it definitely looks different now than it did at first.  God has answered this mama's prayer to turn this verse into reality and my awe and wonder of Him bubbles forth:

 He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. - 2 Corinthians 1:4

Happy Birthday, Izzy!  You are cherished and loved for always.

`

Be A Gideon

"Hi!  Hi!  Hi!  Hi!"  My toddler exclaimed just waiting for a reply.

The elderly man looked sad as he pointed to the hole in his throat and mouthed the words, "I can't talk." 

My sweet Gideon looked perplexed for about 2 seconds.  Then he walked over to the man, smiled and returned his wave.  I watched as he connected with his newfound buddy.  He never muttered another word, but instead would point to objects that he wanted the gentleman to see:  fliers with football players on them, the TV with Bubble Guppies on it, his water bottle, his shoes, the man's shoes, etc. The sweet man was so kind to smile and nod and look excited over everything that Gideon was showing him. The more he smiled, the more my Gideon beamed.  Far too soon, we were told our car was finished with its oil change.  As we began to exit the building, Gideon waved good-bye, walked out of the door, then backed up and looked at the man one more time through a glass door.  As the man tapped the door, Gideon held his hand on the other side right up to the man's hand...the only thing in between them was a few inches of glass.  The man looked touched and I grew teary-eyed as the lady behind the counter said through tears, "Well, Mr. Smith*, it looks like you've made a friend for life."  (*I can't actually remember his real last name).

It was a beautiful exchange made possible by a little boy who was willing to put aside how he normally communicates to show empathy with a man whose voice no longer remained.  He didn't ask why he couldn't speak.  He didn't gasp or point or laugh.  He didn't shy away from him.  He just noticed and responded with love.  Maybe it's because he can understand on some level.  Maybe in that man, he saw himself.  Gideon is somewhat behind on his speech skills.  He processes much more than he says, and sometimes he grows so frustrated trying to communicate what it is he wants me to know. And while he didn't know the reason the man was in the position he was in, it didn't matter.  He met him where he was at and together they shared a moment so beautiful that even strangers cried.

We all have stories.  We all have circumstances that have brought us to where we are.  In a society where pointing out differences is at an all time high, can we be a Gideon?  I don't mean the Gideons who make the Bibles.  I'm sure they're great, but I mean can we be like my son, Gideon?  Can we just take the time to meet others where they are at with no questions asked?  Can we love on them? Can we pray for them when they aren't even aware?  Can we put aside our well-meaning advice and just listen if they want us to?   Can we show compassion?  Can we look inside ourselves and find that point of connection with others?

Will you be a Gideon this week for my boy who struggles to say what he needs to with his mouth but speaks volumes through his heart?  Be a Gideon.  It'll make the world a little brighter for all.

"Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see."

I'm Glad God Made You This Way!

"Why did God have to make me this way?!"  My 7-year-old exclaimed following a frustrating experience at school.

I didn't respond right away.  I couldn't.  I was so choked up that I knew my words would sound incoherent.  I was thankful that I was driving and she couldn't see the tears that were rolling down my face.

How do you explain to a little girl - who is beautiful in every way - that she is perfect just the way she is?  That she doesn't need to be angry that God allows her to have white splotches on her legs and feet because of  a minor, yet untreatable skin condition?  How can I ensure that the confidence she has now won't be knocked down by children who are just trying to figure out their own place in life? How do I help her to rise above it?

As she waited for a response, I prayed that God would give me the words.  Thankfully, she got distracted by something her youngest brother did that was just "so cute."  I smiled as laughter filled the very mouth that had just spoken such discouraging words.

So, to my precious daughter...this is my response:

Dear Sweet Girl,

Do you know what makes you beautiful?

 It's your eyes.  They sparkle with life.  With passion.  With love.  You use those eyes to see injustices in this world so that you can try to figure out a way to help.  You use them to see the lonely one in class who needs a friend.  You use them to see when others need a hand so that you can pitch in.  You use them to see the beauty in this world...in things that this mama would never notice if you didn't first point them out.

It's your mouth.  Those beautiful lips sing praises to Jesus.  They speak encouragement to others.  They pray for the hurting.  They say things that make others laugh.  They utter words of joy and life, compassion and love, kindness and goodness.  They speak a lot and fill this house with energy and exuberance and cheer.

It's your feet.  They're not afraid to walk into the unknown.  They help you run towards greater things.  They lead you to your friends on the playground.  They dance at the sound of music.  They allow you to spin around whenever mommy or daddy twirl you.  They help you to leap into all that this life has to offer and you, sweet one, leap amazingly well!

It's your arms.  Those arms give the most wonderful, joy-filled hugs.  They pick up your baby brother and spin him around just so that he will giggle.  They help you do cartwheels and tumble.  They're attached to your beautiful  hands that love to write notes about how wonderful life is, how people are the "best ever," and how the sign about golf on the side of the road is "really neat."  Those hands draw bright, colorful pictures of you with your family, your friends, of rainbows and clouds, houses and animals.  They express  your creativity.  They pick weeds that you think are incredible flowers.  Those hands grab a hold of your brother's hands - your first best friend in this world - whenever you think he needs an extra dose of bravery.

It's your mind.  You are a thinker.  You want to know all the things.  You thirst for knowledge.  You think about how to make other people smile.  You think about ways to improve yourself.  You think about how we can make sure good always wins. You think about what to say to fill a conversation.  Your genuine curiosity and interest makes other people feel noticed.  That, sweet girl, is an amazing gift.

It's your heart.  You love deeply.  You care fiercely.  You have compassion and concern for the people who have lost everything because of the hurricane and for the family down the road who have lost their cat.  You have a kind heart that beats with love for others. You strive to make other people feel valued.  Your heart beats for all things Jesus, for your family, your friends and for the colors: pink, purple, mint-green, yellow, blue, etc. because  "they're all too beautiful to just pick one."

I could go on and on about what makes you beautiful on the inside and the outside, but the reality is this:  What makes you the most beautiful is that you were created in God's image.  God is good and kind and loving and strong and you are good and kind and loving and strong because of Him.  He has made you with such care that He can tell you how many hairs are on your head.  He loves you so much that He knows every tear you've ever shed. He created you to be like Him and, sweet girl, you are doing a most excellent job allowing Him to mold you and shape you into the most beautiful version of yourself.

Throughout life, this world will try to knock you down.  It will try to rob your joy.  Make you question your compassion.  It will try to confuse you and fill that beautiful mind of your's with anxiety and worry.   But, you don't need to let it.  Never wonder about your worth.  Never question your value.  Never forget where you came from. And always keep being who you are: You are a treasure.  You are a gift.  You are more beautiful than glitter and sparkles.  You are more amazing than double rainbows and large mountains.  You are sweet.  You are smart.  You are funny.  You are kind.  You are the perfect you.  THE PERFECT YOU. You are loved and cherished by so many.  Most importantly, you are loved by the very one who fashioned you while you were still in my belly.

So, sweet girl, why did God make you this way?  Because this world would be so dull if He hadn't.

I love you more than the Target clearance rack!

Love,
Mommy
XOXOXOXO!!!

*And the Target clearance rack is a joke between my girl and me.  She knows I love her unconditionally. ;)

The Rocks Won't Cry Out On My Behalf

My seven-year-old has been singing "If I had no voice, If I had no tongue, I would dance for You like the rising sun" for days now. I thought maybe it was due to the upcoming eclipse, but the eclipse passed and she's still singing it. She even drew a picture of someone dancing with no tongue (yeah, I don't know...her six-year-old brother thought it was hilarious).

The song is catchy and I've found myself singing it at random times this week as well. With more frequency now that "Total Eclipse of the Heart" is not as fun to sing. Something about the words have made me feel like a bit of a hypocrite, though. Do I praise Him enough? Praise and Worship music is a big thing in this family. We have nightly jam sessions/dance parties. We play it at home. It's always on in the car. My two sons scream passionately sing songs with words like "I've seen You move, You move the mountains and I believe I'll see you do it again," "We will not be moved when the earth gives way, for the Risen One has overcome" and "He'll see me through like before, He is Lord, He is Lord." (Yes, they have a slight Elevation Worship obsession right now which is much more tolerable than their "Maui, It's time to kick your hiney" obsession...Thank you, Moana). My two-year-old doesn't even comprehend what he is truly singing, but you better believe he can lift his hands in praise with the best of them. Yes, from the outside looking in, my husband and I have done a decent job infiltrating our lives with praises to our King.

So why have the words my sweet girl has been singing made me feel guilty? Why does a twinge of shame well up every time I catch myself humming along? Why does the verse about rocks crying out to Him if we withhold praise make me wonder when the rocks that sit in a decorative container on our kitchen table will start singing?

Like much that I don't want to deal with because I already know the answers, I've dismissed my questions to process at a more convenient time. You know, when all three kids are sleeping at the same time and I'm still alert enough to think, the laundry is caught up and the house is spic and span...so pretty much, never. But as those lyrics have remained in our house, the questions have also remained.

So because I often choose to be gut-wrenchingly honest on a blog that the world can read, here's the truth. I am REALLY good at voicing praises to God and can do so with repetition without even thinking about it (much like everyone can who was raised on '90s praise and worship church songs). I can quote Bible verses about His praise being continually on my mouth and giving thanks to Him for His love endures forever. When my children argue, I often make them apologize, say something nice to each other and then thank Jesus for their sibling. All that's good, but do I REALLY praise God? Do my actions thank Him when I'm upset and sulking because something in my life isn't going my way? Am I worshiping Him when I decide to reach over my Bible for the second, third, fourth day in a row and grab the remote because I just don't "feel" like reading His promises? Am I applauding Him when I look to man for comfort instead of running first to Him?

It is so easy to get into a routine of doing something but not really putting forth the effort to do it well. I have certain workout routines that I know will allow me to check off the box without using too much energy. If I don't really want to deal with sticking to my new and still evolving daily laundry routine, I wash and dry a load of the biggest items I can find because it's less to fold and put away. I put sandwiches on my menu plan so I can still say I planned dinner but it takes little work to actually make. While shortcuts are good at times, it's when my workouts have basically only been stretching all week, my family has twenty-five blankets to choose from but no unmentionables to wear, or are eating peanut butter sandwiches for dinner for the fifth night in a row, that the shortcut becomes a problem. Lately, I've approached praise with about as much effort as the above. I've just been going through the motions to check off a box. Read a few verses...check! Said a quick prayer...check! Thanked God for a couple things...check! But now I find myself worried about all the things and getting irritated over the silliest issues and I can't figure out why I'm so anxiety-filled??

Friends, we were made to praise Him! To really praise Him. To focus on His goodness when we're tempted to dwell on the badness of this world. It's impossible to stay angry at my husband over something when I start thanking God for him. I can't stay down in the dumps for long when - despite what is weighing me down - I lift up my hands in wholehearted worship to our King. It's a lot easier to not honk at the person who is driving like a maniac when I start to pray for her to get to the hospital safely because God knows that must be where she is heading driving like that. :) So today I'm practicing praising in all things. Focusing on Him, not me. We were created for praise and there's no way rocks in my kitchen will start to praise in my place.

It's fitting that all three kids just started singing this as I end:

"Your love is breaking out just like an echo, I feel it breaking out just like an echo....An echo in my soul."

May His love echo in your soul today as you praise His name!

*And a pic of my littlest praising Jesus a few months ago even though he was sick.

Lead Me To The Rock

Fists clenched, he lays stiffly on the ground.  His little body refusing to release any tension he feels.  His head pounds the carpet while he wails and I wonder if this toddler of mine will ever learn that banging his head on objects never ends well.   I watch as his sibling - the initiator of this tantrum - tries to appease him.  The toddler screams "NO!" and moves further away.  I call him to me.  "Gideon, come see Mama." Again he screams "NO!"  

Still, I know what he needs IS his mama.  It's late.  He's tired.  He just needs to be held and assured that it's all OK.  

I walk over to him and he jerks away.  I wait.  He screams.  Kicks. Flails.  Finally he glances my way.  He is ready to be helped. I happily oblige and hug him close.  "It's OK, buddy.  I've got you.  I love you, sweet boy.  You can calm down.  Everything is OK."  And with that, his fists loosen, his crying ceases and he snuggles in...resting in the arms of the one who loves him.

Yesterday morning - at an hour way too early to be awake - I woke up with this on my mind:

Psalm 61:1-4

Hear my cry, O God;

Attend to my prayer.
From the end of the earth I will cry to You,
When my heart is overwhelmed;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

For You have been a shelter for me,

A strong tower from the enemy.

I will abide in Your tabernacle forever;

I will trust in the shelter of Your wings. 

I tried to let the words sink in.  "How do I get there, God?  How can I really feel like I am on that rock that is higher than I?  How can I be in the shelter of your wings?" Later that morning, a dear friend shared that she was struggling with worry and anxiety, so I shared the verses.  They encouraged her and I thought maybe that passage was just meant for me to remember so that I could share with her.  Maybe I was just the messenger.  Still, those scriptures and questions lingered in my mind throughout the day.

As I watched my toddler and his tantrum that night, it all made sense and my questions were answered.  Much like my little guy couldn't seem to make his way to me when that's what he really needed, I tend to do the same with God.  Life gets tough and I pray, but I don't always dwell in His presence. I am not good at the "being still, and knowing." I don't allow Him to soothe me.  I fight it because I'm angry or tired or succumbing to 53 different emotions all at once.

And in this Psalm, David is where I am at times.  Overwhelmed.  Crying out to God.  Wanting help, but not knowing how to receive it.  So what does he do?  David asks to be led.  

I'm quick to cry out, but not always good at allowing God to lead me into His presence.  He waits with arms ready, longing to comfort, but I must first stop jerking away.  I have to release my control and let Him draw me in to Him.  And when He does, just like David, I am able to recognize His strength.  I am able to dwell in His arms and trust in the shelter of His wings.  It starts first with a cry and then a willingness to allow Him to truly work, but when I do that, the weight of this world is no longer mine, but His.

And a picture of the cutie with the temper like his mama's. Yes, we're both a work in progress.