October 31: Trick-or-Treat, Then & Now

Now...

When faced with the choice between decorating or carving pumpkins, the kids decided to decorate them this year instead. Ruby seemed offended at the option of carving, stating, "Why would you cut them??? They're so friendly!"

These pumpkins have also achieved "pet" status and have been named accordingly: Purpley & Zack (Ruby), Agnes (Toby), Mack & Jack (Clayton), and last but not least, Eva (Eva). :)



Then...

2014

October 29

October 28: Write 31 Days: The Discipleship that is Motherhood

Sometimes the best kind of discipleship--

the vessel that lays down ones life

and instead takes up His--

is the kind in which you have no choice.

I suppose there's always a choice,

but in vocations like Motherhood

you can't send the children back, 

as much as you want to some days.

It's a forcible dying to self before

the child even enters the world.

The change of diet and drinking habits, 

of sleeping and bathroom breaks.

It's a loss of modesty in the mess 

of it all, in the casting of your body 

aside to give life to another.

Life that changes yours forever.

It's sacrificed sleep and sanity, too,

to care for the sweet babe.

Feeding schedules, dirty diapers 

and more consume your life.

Their needs first; your needs last.

More experienced moms say that

this too shall pass, but in the trenches

of long days it's hard to understand.

The self does not go willingly but

Flails and stomps and storms about.

Even mothers have an inner toddler who

Could use to learn a lesson or two.

Over time you realize the joy that comes

with serving others first. The love and 

satisfaction that comes in frequent bursts.

And you slowly start to conceive that

The "important" things you cared about 

don't really matter all that much.

Because new life always springs from 

the One who was broken for us.

October 27

October 26: Write 31 Days: The Secret to Living Big in This Life

We were all sitting around the dinner table the other night, sausage sandwiches and macaroni and cheese strewn about on mismatched plates.

"These new chairs are so comfortable!" the son exclaims.

He brought them in off the front porch that night and placed them neatly around the table, willingly and without complaint. We really needed more kitchen chairs, and these happened to be free.

After a painful series of "Doubles" addition YouTube videos finished, we talked about school and upcoming events, among other things. 

"These new chairs are awesome! They are soo comfortable!" the son exclaims, again.

I chuckle and, leaning over to my husband, whisper, "I love that he shares our low standards."

And we both laughed. 

The "new" chairs, comfortable as they may be, are clearly old church chairs of some kind. They were going to be thrown out but instead have a second chance at life in our home. Far from glamorous, they are functional and fill a void we were lacking. We may reupholster them, but part of me wonders if that's even worth it, because you know the kids are going to ruin them either way.

As I glance around the room, I note that our current kitchen table was also free, as was the one before it. The end tables and most of the furniture in our living room were given to us by one person or another, and so were most of the furniture items in the bedrooms upstairs.

And it dawned on me that night at the dinner table that kids don't care about that kind of stuff. They are just happy to have a seat to sit on; bonus points if it happens to be a comfortable one. Their small hearts don't naturally reside there--it's parents and the culture at large that feed them the myth that it should.

It starts at a young age with well-meaning parents who want to bless their children and give them the world. They unconsciously set the expectations. They groom their standard of "normal." It continues as families settle down in nice little suburban developments or country designer homes, watching every summer as Mr. Smith down the road gets a tractor upgrade or as Bob across the street sets up increasingly spectacular light displays with each passing Christmas. 

It's the unspoken competition for the fanciest parties, the most well-manicured yard, the highest achieving children. It's the road map for success on this side of things that tells school-aged children they must go to college, hop the escalator to the career fastback, buy a home and car tricked out with all the latest stuff, and retire at 50 in order to have a happy and successful life. 

But I wonder in this mad dash to have it all, to achieve the American Dream regardless of the cost, financial or otherwise--and there's always a cost--if we've missed the secret to living big in this life.

Living big outwardly--whether it be bigger houses, bigger vacations, bigger bank accounts, bigger storage units, bigger yachts--doesn't yeild a bigger heart. It doesn't yield a bigger attitude of gratitude or a bigger appreciation for the people in your life. The only thing it's probably guaranteed to yield is a bigger desire for more.

Because the secret to really living big, living Life that is Truly Life, is actually living small.

Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul? {Matthew 16:24-26}

What if, instead of pursuing bigger homes or flat screen tv's, we pursued bigger hearts?

What if, instead of striving for promotions, we sought to promote the needs of others above our own, consciously choosing to live small, below our means, in order to give the rest away?

What if we exchanged the hurry and stress of a full schedule of activities for simple, quality time with those we love? A game of catch in the backyard between a father and son instead of a season of half-hearted games under the glare of the sweltering sun? Dance parties in the kitchen instead of skipping family meals in order to make it to dance class several times a week? And, dare I say it, devotions around the dining room table as a family from time to time instead of dropping the children off to learn from someone else every Wednesday night?

What if we spent half as much time focusing inward on the health of the small, fist-sized organ in our chest as we do on the outward appearance of our person, home, career, and children?

Sometimes small really is big. Sometimes less really is more. Less to clean, less to manage. Less to fight over, less to lose. Less to organize, less to pay off. Less to heat, less to cool, less to maintain. Less to fuss about, less to control.

Less in some areas naturally leaves room for more in others. 


I guess the question to leave us with today would be, where is the extra room in your life?

Live simply so others may simply live. {Ghandi}

October 25

Happy birthday Gramps!!

October 24

October 23

October 22

October 21: Write 31 Days: To Live Within Your Means

I had most of the bin filled with off-season clothes already when I noticed the old label on the side.

Boy clothes.

How many years have passed since I printed that neat, white label on my handy organizing must-have, only to have misplaced it all these years later somewhere in the abyss of unpacked boxes in the basement. How many other bins of clothes have since been sloppily thrown together and tossed to the side to be rummaged through again the next season in equal haste.

Once upon a time, much like a nice little fairy tale, I used to be organized. A place for everything and everything had a place, with labels to boot. I cleaned my house weekly and completed tedious "extra" tasks, such as vacuuming couches and stairs, regularly. There were meal plans and menu boards, and upon reading the yummy list of options for the week, friends would say, "I'm eating at your house!"

About three children into this whole motherhood thing, the scales tipped against the camaraderie I had with the noble pursuit of organization. Really, it was probably after the second kid, when I stood home alone for long and weary days, desperately outnumbered and reduced to a pile of tears or sheer numbness by tiny humans barely three feet tall.

It wasn't that I no longer wanted to be organized, that I didn't want my days to run smoothly. I was one person now stretched three ways thin. Then four ways thin, and now soon to be five. It was the simple realization that a mother of four, or certainly five, cannot perform in the same capacity as a mother of one. The freeing conclusion that, for a mother of four, priorities were simply not the same as they were with one.

As the seasons of our lives shift seamlessly as summer does to fall, as the families under our roof grow and change, we need to learn anew how to live within our means. As humans, as women, as mothers.

Not our financial means, although that certainly does play a role, but I'm speaking more of our physical, emotional and mental means. Because those change with time, and it's okay.

For many years I strove to achieve this ideal image of a stay-at-home wife and mother. For myself, mostly. I thought my house should look a certain way, that my children should behave a certain way at all times. The pressure I put on myself was intense, and I would feel incredibly guilty if I yelled at my children or didn't manage to keep up with every task at home like I thought I should.

And while there may be some type A+ people who can keep up with mopping floors and washing bedding and dusting crevices and whatever else on a weekly basis, I finally had to face the reality that it's just not me.

For me, sustaining those demands is not living within my means. Because I became a very angry, resentful person when I tried to do so. I sacrificed quality time with my kids for clean floors, traded good communication with my husband for a thorough deep-cleaning, and exchanged the calmness of letting go for the stress of keeping up.

If you want to know the truth, I'm actually on the I-can't-remember-the-last-time-I-mopped-my-floors cleaning schedule now. Contrary to popular germaphobe propaganda, you will not, in fact, keel over and die from dirty floors. Or bedsheets. Or bathrooms. Just in case you were wondering.

Life that is truly life isn't found in striving towards an imaginary ideal or comparing your life to someone else. It exists in the freedom of being enough exactly as you are. Doing what you need to do for yourself and your family in order for you to survive, and on a good day, even thrive. And that will look different for everyone, because Lord knows we all function at a different capacity.

As needs change, so do priorities. A friend of mine mentioned over the summer that she had been up until 1:00am scrubbing her toddler's muddy shoes clean.

Girl, please.

I laughed to myself as I thought about the pile of muddy shoes that have been sitting by our side door for months. In fact, they're still there today. Ain't nobody got time for that. Seeing as how a colony of spiders has apparently moved in, the only place they're going now is the garbage can.

Priorities. That's good enough for me.

October 20

October 19

October 18

October 17

October 16

October 15

October 14

October 13: Write 31 Days: A Child is Missing and Hope is Found

It was a Sunday morning just like any other, save for the extra snuggles in bed with the tiny, a big breakfast thrown together on the stove, and a much-needed shower that I tried to cram into too little time before church. We arrived later then usual, but I still ushered all the children where they needed to be before too much was missed. 

I sat with my husband in the back, held his hand, and drank my warm mug of coffee. The kid-free hour is refreshing, and I had time to be still and breathe deep the unsung blessings of life.

We stopped home after church to regroup before running back out, and that's when we heard.

A teenage girl had been missing since last Monday when she failed to show up at school.

What?????? 

Why are we just hearing about this now??

We saw her parents just that morning as they left at the end of service, the typical smiles on their faces and baby in their hand. They speak but a few words of English, so politely we nod in response. 

And although the religious persecution may have subsided as they washed up on freedom's shore, the cloud of oppression has far from lifted. It's so easy to take for granted that we live in a familiar land. That labels in the grocery store are decipherable. That directions make sense. That conversations and books and instructions all around us are written in a language we understand.

They went to the police as soon as they realized she was gone, but no one could understand them. 

They didn't have a voice. 

She was their voice, their mouthpiece to the rest of the world, and she was missing. They went back day after day. No one knew how to help them. No one could make sense of their cries. 

No one knew.

We drove past their house every day. We picked up trash on their street. We walked right by, and we had no clue. To love your neighbor is to know your neighbor, and heaven help us, no one knew. 

Sometimes it's not that people aren't trying to speak, aren't crying out for help. Sometimes they just can't. And other times, we just don't listen. 

But on that normal Sunday, a woman took a moment to listen. She was able to understand enough, and she told someone with a voice. The voice told the police and gathered the church to wait and pray. 

Seven days. 

She had been missing for seven days.

A whole world can be created in seven days, but in a world of suffering, seven days is a lifetime.

If they spoke English, if they were white, action would've been taken in those critical first days. My heart ached at that reality, at the suffering of the marginalized. There was no amber alert issued, not a soul aware she had vanished.

I tried to be hopeful as I cried and prayed...

Lord, we know that You know exactly where she is at this very moment in time. We know you have the power to set her free. Please, Father, set her free. Bring her home. Move in the hearts of whomever may have her and bend them to your will. 

She could be out of the state by now. She could be in another country for all we know. I have read things, way too many things. I know what happens to girls who disappear from these streets. What happens the first day to render them helpless and hopeless, what happens every day after that for as long as they are imprisoned in hell.

Lord, we thank you that we are never without hope, because You are the Hope. You are the Resurrection and the Life. We know you can see both the beginning and the end of this right now. Father, wherever she is, comfort her. Give her family peace. Calm their fears. Give the detectives wisdom that she may be found soon, wherever she is. 

I can' t help but imagine the worst right now, and it seems like there's no hope. It's been too long.

But God, you collect every tear. You see. You know. You hear the voice of the voiceless when others cannot.

As I sat on the front porch in the sun, watching the pollen dance by on the summer breeze, that was a hard truth to swallow. Because the evil in the world seems to get away with so much. People, in the very hands of the devil himself, take and destroy so much. I know one day God will dry every tear, redeem all that was lost and more, but when the pain of the present is so raw and fresh...

We are like the flecks of pollen floating by in the sun, here today and gone tomorrow. But why is the journey so arduous for some? Why do some land softly in beauty, producing a crop of new life next season, while others get caught up in webs or stuck in puddles of mud? Why do still others wander away, never to be heard from again? 

Why are my children safe in their mother's arms when others are not?

Amid the questions and wailing, the hope and the doubt, the Lord isn't thwarted by fickle human hearts. He is Lord of all and moves things as He wills to accomplish His purposes on Earth. 

He heard the voice of the voiceless and the cries of the family of the church, and four hours later the girl was found. Alive, safe, and once again in the tearful embrace of her parents. 

God is still in the business of miracles, my friends. Against all odds, facts and statistics, He is still willing and able to do the impossible. 

Though a child may be missing, hope can always be found. 

Though the world be a blanket of darkness, the Light will always prevail.

For "today I saw who God is...."

October 12

October 11

October 10: Write 31 Days: Productivity

I have many big thoughts, but more on that tomorrow because today I'm tired. We all went to the RENEW the City Cleveland event with Envision today, and although I don't feel like I really did all that much, I'm zonked.

The kids and I picked up garbage along the side streets right by church. I think they were the most excited about the complimentary goggles and gloves. The kids were troopers, coming up to me, the garbage bag holder and fellow collector, with huge armfuls of garbage at a time. Toby was the Master Collector, and he definitely smelled like he had spent a clumsy morning at the pub instead of next to us on the street. Dirty and gross, but he had a great time! 

Everyone was tired, so we probably missed our golden opportunity for a family photo. One child had just been disciplined, another two were protesting the photo, and the baby was behind us, balling. But I smiled, so there's that. They all broke down into tears and hysterics after the photo.

Chaos=1, Family Photo=0

It does make you wonder sometimes about the people who are always posting perfect and polished photos of life, themselves, and their family. Is it that I'm chronically doing something wrong? Or are they less then honest about reality most of the time?

Because my reality is: 

The counter tops are rarely clean; the laundry is almost never folded and put away. 

The floor is hardly ever spotless and the toys are seldom picked up. 

The sheets aren't changed on a schedule and I'm a chronic piler on any surface.

If I take a picture that looks even remotely "perfect," it's because I've shoved the extra crap lying around just enough to the side as to not pick it up in the viewfinder. 

I do like it when the house is clean, when things are picked up and organized, when life works more like a well-oiled machine because I'm on top of things. But more often then not, I find value and place  my time elsewhere. 

I'll cuddle my kids on the couch instead of loading the dishwasher. 

We'll walk down to the park instead of being diligent on laundry day.

I'll spend time with my husband after the kids go to bed instead of finishing the tasks left undone.

I'll quiet my thoughts at nap time and read or write at the expense of productivity.

I guess maybe it boils down to how you define productive... 

October 9: Write 31 Days: Ha, That's Life

Here's a light-hearted post for your Friday...


Conversation #1:

My husband called yesterday as I was on my way to pick up the kids from school, late as usual and slightly discombobulated.

Ring...  Ring...  Ring...  Ring...

Me: {trying to maneuver around a curve while fumbling for the phone and also attempting to drive and hold my mug of iced coffee in hand; answers, pushes speaker phone button, slightly exasperated} ...Hi!!...

Husband: Hi. You're on speaker phone.

Me: Ya, sorry... I'm in the car on the way to get the kids from school. I should be there already, but I'm running late, of course, and I'm trying to drive and hold my cup of coffee, so I didn't have anywhere else to put you except in my bra.

Husband: Um, no... YOU are on speaker phone. I just wanted to let you know.

Me: Bwahahahah.... Well then. There's that.

Now that we have this incredibly awkward introduction out of the way, you were saying, my dear?

BYE FELICIA.

Conversation #2:

Child 1 and Child 2 were having a discussion in the kitchen, and they came to tell us about it.

Child 1: {with smirk on face} Child 2 said "dick."

Daddy: That's not a nice word, so let's not say that again.

Child 2: {with quizzical look} What...does it mean?

Mommy: It's not a very nice word for boys' private parts.

{Child 1 and 2 look at each other and start laughing, along with ew-ing and gross-ing}

Child 2: Well, I didn't know that's what it meant!

Mommy: It's okay, you're fine. But now that you know, that's not a word we should be saying.

Daddy: Well, it's not always a bad word... Sometimes if a man is named Richard, people will call him Dick for short. Like a nickname.

{perplexed and horrified looks exchanged between children. Ya, I know kids, I don't totally understand that one either.}

Child 1: {with wide grin} There's a boy in my class named Richard.

The principal is going to put us on speed dial, I swear. Lawd have mercy...


...and find some time to enjoy the very real, messy life you live this weekend!

October 8: Write 31 Days: Writing About It Is Easy. Living It Is Not.

I started reading this fascinating book the other day that I picked up for $1 at a bargain book sale.

I lugged all the kids with me on a Sunday afternoon because it was the last day of the sale, and I had forgotten to bring any cash when we stopped by the day before. The kids proudly toted their grocery bags filled with chapter books {a new fascination}, mystery books for book reports, early readers, and other childrens' story books. I was already tired, but we decided to stop in the other sale room across the hall anyways.

Since I've plagued myself with the task of writing every day, I was contemplating what to ramble on about that day as I leafed through the first box of books. The kids found this more "adult" room of little interest and resorted to running circles around the tables, climbing on the counter top, and the tiniest one, who hasn't the faintest idea about the concept of purchasing items, was trying to stuff additional books into her pink plastic bag.

Mom, can I get this book, please??????

No, that's a grown-up book and not appropriate for you. {read: The Seven Deadly Sins}

Mom, what about this one??

Aw, that actually looks exactly like the Nancy Drew books I used to read when I was younger! {read: obsessed with crime solving until the 9th grade} Actually, it's old enough that it probably is one of the original books. That's really cool.

So I can get it?

No. I only have $3 left and mommy wants to get something, too.

Ughh.....

And while I was praying they could hold out just a bit longer so I could quickly scan through the remaining boxes, I began to think about how much I really don't like people.

You might be laughing, but it's true. I thought, maybe that's what I should write about: how much I'd rather sit at home and type on my computer instead of hang out in the real world with other humans. Most of the time when I do interact with other people, it doesn't end up being so bad after all. Still, left to my own devices, I'd much rather not.

So there you go. That probably answers a lot of questions you had about me.

At the same time, I know that God's called us to love others and to do it well, sacrificially even. So I decided that was definitely something I should work on in my own heart, and maybe writing about it would, in fact, help. No sooner had that thought left the peculiar space inside my head then I stumbled upon this book:

The Dangerous Act of Loving Your Neighbor: Seeing Others Through the Eyes of Jesus, by Mark Labberton.

My jaw dropped and I gasped, staring down at the book in disbelief.

What exactly are the chances of that?

I thought about putting it back and dealing with it another day. After all, I'd never heard of the guy, so maybe the book wasn't any good? And it flat out says on the inside jacket, "this is not an easy book." Ain't nobody got time for that.

But I couldn't get over the timing. I don't believe in coincidences, after all, so I held onto the book. I found a couple others that looked interesting, though I did try to talk myself out of the book one more time before finally slipping my dollars into the honor system box.

I'm only through the introduction so far, but he had me hooked after the first page. For one thing, he's really smart and doesn't seem to have the need for a dictionary app, unlike myself. Secondly, I'm just soaking up his wisdom regarding the human heart. Why we do the very things we don't want to do.

The premise of his book is this: human hearts form the seedbed from which injustice thrives.

Our hearts don't consciously will injustice. Nor do they deliberately withhold compassion. Nor is it that tales of injustice fail to grab and concern us. Yet our hearts are weak and confused. Our hearts are easily overwhelmed and self-protective. They are prone to be absorbed mostly with the immediacy of our own lives. Our hearts have the capacity to seek justice, but they are usually not calibrated to do so--at least not beyond concern for our inner circle. In a world of such hearts, virulent injustice thrives. Systemic injustice, the absence of the rule of law, and suffering of so many innocents at the hands of oppressors rely on the complicity and distraction of our ordinary hearts. {Mark Labberton}

 Yes, yes, yes.

This is why we need new hearts, which is something only God can do. This is why we need to be transformed as a whole person--born again--not just in parts. Not just problem behaviors. Our whole being is defunct.

Writing about it is one thing, but making the choice to live it, to open ourselves up to God and the change of heart He wants us to experience, is where it gets tricky. And uncomfortable. And hard.

"...but God is seldom instantaneous about doing the most significant things."

He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written: 

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” 

Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him. He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” {Luke 4:16-21}

It's a journey. It's a lifestyle. It's a desperate calling. 

October 7: Write 31 Days: Life Flows from the Heart

Listen, my sons, to a father’s instruction;

pay attention and gain understanding. 

I give you sound learning,

so do not forsake my teaching. 

For I too was a son to my father,

still tender, and cherished by my mother. 

Then he taught me, and he said to me,

“Take hold of my words with all your heart;

keep my commands, and you will live. 

Get wisdom, get understanding;

do not forget my words or turn away from them.

{Proverbs 4:1-5}

It was a gloriously cool, partly cloudy day today, which made the glimpses of sun peeking through the clouds even more enjoyable. We savored the warmth on our skin when we had the chance, gazed upon the beauty of each strand of hair sparkling in golden rays, because it would soon disappear. 

We were the only ones at the park, despite the perfect weather, until a father/son pair strolled into our midst. The boy was younger then my littlest, probably about 18 months old, and the dad himself was on the younger end of the father spectrum. The little boy ran around, as little boys do, and wanted to play with the cars and bikes that my kids had dragged with them today.

I wouldn't have minded a bit, but the dad was always quick to tell the boy that those things didn't belong to him and direct him elsewhere. Soon my kids grew bored of the jungle gym and swings and took off into the grass to collect things that looked like crab apples. They weren't crab apples, though, but round, chartreuse balls that smelled of citrus. There was potentially some kind of nut encased in the outer fleshy shell, but I really don't do plants, so I haven't the faintest clue. 

Just don't eat them, I said.

The little boy wanted to run around in the grass after them, but the dad barked at him to stay on the concrete by the playground. The boy listened, but hesitated at the edge of freedom and watched as the kids loaded up ball after green ball in their shirts and placed their spoils in a pile. They smelled of a refreshingly clean kitchen, although their hands were smeared with dirt. I don't know of a better way to spend a childhood afternoon. 

After a while the dad noticed that the boy didn't quite smell like a summer's breeze himself but rather a like he had a surprise in his pants, and he picked him up on his shoulder. Along with voicing gratitude that mommy had remembered to pack diapers on the way over to his car, he also said, "oh...Mommy's going to owe me big time for this one."

And every fiber in my mother heart began to prickle.

I looked up from the book I was reading and watched him walk away. Did I really just hear that right?

Just in case I wasn't completely sure, he said it again on the way back from the car. "Mommy's really going to owe me for this one!"

Owe you for what, exactly? I wondered to myself. For...changing a diaper? Honey, is that not your child, too? 

Rather then pick a fight with a stranger, I decided to keep my thoughts to myself, but Lawd have mercy, did I have thoughts. 

As if somehow he wasn't complicit in the conception of this child, as if somehow he doesn't bear the same weight of parenthood as the mother, as if somehow it's only her job to change diapers??

But somehow, in his mind, she owes him for taking care of the boy.

And as I sat there in the shade with that knowledge, I began to wonder how that little boy was going to view his mother as he grew up. Would he think that she owed him, too? Would he, in turn, think that the world owes him, as well? And what would he think about his father, or marriage for that matter? Is helping raise a child just merely a service the father performs for the mother, fully expecting reimbursement for all his efforts? Would he ever be able to see marriage as a partnership, a union meant to bring glory to God?

Conversely, how are my attitudes and actions shaping the lives of my own children, in ways I may not even be aware of? That's the terrifying part of being a parent--like it or not, your children will be affected by your baggage, by all the junk in your heart. Because you can't help but exude it. It seeps out through your pores; it comes gushing out, all red and sticky, every time an old scab gets ripped off again. They will learn how to interact with the world under the weight of it, and they will end up carrying it around themselves long after you've passed.

Unless, of course, you make a concerted, intentional effort to deal with your heart.

My son, pay attention to what I say;

turn your ear to my words.

Do not let them out of your sight,

keep them within your heart; 

for they are life to those who find them 

and health to one’s whole body. 

Above all else, guard your heart, 

for everything you do flows from it.

{Proverbs 4:20-23}

The heart of man is a dark and mysterious place, and no one can understand it. A lot of us are afraid to even go near it for fear of what we may find. There's more evil lurking inside then we'd ever dare to imagine, but as Tim Keller says, "at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope."

At the end of the day, it's the truth--Christ Himself--that will set us free. He knows the wretched places of our soul, yet He died for us anyway. He knows the evil we will do and see and think in this life, and He chose us anyway. 

He does not call you by your deeds, your thoughts or your fears, but by your Name. You are His Beloved.

All of us as parents, for our sake and the sake of the generations that come after us, have to be willing to take a good, long, hard look at what's inside our hearts and deal with it. For better or worse, in sickness and in health, Christ is in the thick of it with us. He longs to see us be free, but first we need to accept the truth--the truth about Him, and the truth about ourselves. 

This is not by any means an easy road, friends, but what have we learned so far about the value in doing hard things??? 

We must {wo}man up and start somewhere, because our very life depends on it. In order live a Life that is Truly Life, you must guard your heart, because everything you do flows from it.

Everything.

Again with the hard words in the Bible. No asterisk. No footnote. No exclusions.

As we guard our hearts, as we protect and watch over them, as we keep them safe from the Evil One, as we give them time and allow them to heal, so are we also protecting our children. We prevent the seeds of destruction that may have taken root in our own hearts from reproducing in our children and their children after that. We weed out the thorns that have squelched the new life waiting to bloom inside, giving it room to grow and flourish in time.

New life that needs Truth and Light and Love to thrive.

Quote from the collage:

The outward work will never be puny if the inward work is great. And the outward work can never be great or even good if the inward work is puny or of little worth. The inward work invariably includes in itself all breadth, all expansiveness, all length, all depth. Such a work receives and draws all its being from nowhere else except from and in the heart of God. {Meister Eckhart}

October 6: Write 31 Days: Life is Worth Living the Hard Way

I really didn't feel like writing today, but my husband suggested I at least write:

I don't feel like writing today.

...and calling it a wrap.

At least write something, he says. You should do it.


So I find myself here, typing on the outside and grumbling on the inside with every keystroke. It's funny how hard a simple task becomes when you really, really, really don't want to do it.

But if you don't keep your commitments when it becomes extremely difficult to do so, is it really worth doing at all?

Why commit to a marriage if you plan on giving up?

Why accept a new position if you don't plan on performing the required tasks?

Why pay for college courses if you don't plan on showing up half the time?

Why have children if you're not prepared to pour all your energy into raising them, every day?

I don't think the problem lies in people's intentions. Most people don't go into a marriage hoping that it fails, most people are excited about a new job, most prospective freshman have a world filled with possibilities at their fingertips, and most first-time parents are elated at the thought of a lifetime together with their new little bundle of joy.

The problem is most things in life are a lot harder then they initially appear, and what exasperates the already difficult situations people find themselves in, after assuming it would be all rainbows and unicorns, is that society doesn't portray an accurate picture of reality. People are not honest about their crap, and so, all these youngsters with their gaudy, over sized rose-colored glasses have a very skewed idea of what "normal" is. And when this ideal reality doesn't quite match up with their experiences, they think that there must be something wrong with them. That they're weird, or they must have messed up.

So they hide. Because they don't want all the other "normal" people out there knowing how screwed up they really are.

The problem is no one ever told them that life isn't easy. That things will not always be handed to you. That if you want to succeed at something, you're going to have to work really, really hard at it, even when you don't want to. Especially when you don't want to. That golden opportunities of being in the right place at the right time are few and far between, and that much of life is about putting in the time day in and day out.

The problem is that people are often a terrible judge of potential, and not succeeding in one area of life, like school, is no marker of success in the real world.

Geniuses have been deemed stupid because they don't fit into the traditional model of school.

Inventors have been labeled crazy for daring to dream that man could fly.

I have a child who drives me crazy, incessantly, because I feel like he's always learning things "the hard way." I think to myself, life would go much more smoothly if you just figured out how to listen in this area. If you could just fit into this little box during the time you're at school, there would be far less trouble. If you could turn off this behavior and fasten the shutters on that mouth during these interactions, life would be so much easier... for everyone else.

But it's the people who dare to press the boundaries, who have the audacity to question what has always been and instead ask what could be, who refuse to be put in a box so society as a whole could be more comfortable with their existence--it's those people who change the world.

There is a lot to be said about living Life the hard way:

It's hard not to give up when adulthood is being a total jerk and the deck is completely stacked against you in every area of life.

It's hard not to give up on a marriage when you don't even know the person on the other side of the bed anymore, when a few feet feel more like the entire frigid tundra of Antarctica.

It's hard to stick with a new job that turned out to be the opposite of what you had hoped for, a job you now loathe with each passing day.

It's hard to take care of every waking need of another human being, every moment of the day, regardless of your own physical, mental, or emotional state. It's hard to have little dictators, only three feet tall, running your life every stinking day.

Real life is hard, and we fail to talk about that.

We also don't mention nearly often enough that all the hard work is totally worth it, because it will end up being your life's work. The myriad of little decisions you make every day to do the hard things, to make the extra effort, to invest even when you're tired, even when you don't think you have anything left to offer, will eventually pay off, for we reap what we sow.

Sometimes, especially on the long, hard days, it seems as though the harvest will never grow. It's difficult, nearly impossible at times, to imagine a day of green fields when all you can see is drought.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. {Hebrews 12:1-3}

The fact is, life the hard way is really Life that is Truly Life. We press on through the hard things because that's what Jesus did for us. For the joy set before him, he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

Life that is Truly Life exists on the other side of pain. It's the miracle of a redeemed marriage, it's the story of perseverance transforming character, it's lessons learned in the trenches of helplessness and grief, it's the discovery that the same people who bring you the greatest heartache in life also bring you the greatest joy, and it's hope and promise. New life. True life.

An abundant harvest of blessings from the Lord.

When we ask God to move a mountain, God may give us a shovel. 

~Shane Claiborne

October 5: Write 31 Days: In a Me-First World, What if Christians Were Last?

I have to admit, this consciously writing every day, whether I feel inspired or not, whether I'm pissed off and having a bad day or not, is HARD. When the words come out, I sometimes feel they sound forced or pompous. I hope not, but bear with me.

Today I went to the grocery store, which is one of my least favorite tasks, right up there with returning phone calls, making appointments, writing emails, and doing the dishes. Basically, anything that is mundane, repetitive and/or administrative drives me crazy. But we eventually run out of food, and at some point we need to go to the dentist, lest all our teeth fall out and we can't eat the aforementioned food, so I do what I have to do.

Most of the time at the store the two littles are very well-behaved, but there are always those days that are the exception to the rule. Like today. And it wasn't anything terrible, just a scurrying about, a throwing of products we weren't going to buy, a climbing on things cleverly disguised as steps but were actually stacks of soda and sugar, and a hiding behind self-constructed diaper barricades when it was long past time to leave.

So these things slowly grate on me, as you can imagine, and by the time I make it up to the register, I am done. No longer is there any currency left in the form of positive emotions or patience--those were cashed out long ago. If I can just make it through the checkout line, we can finally go home...

The checkout line isn't normally a time in my shopping experience where I stop to consider the needs of anyone other then my own. I look for the shortest line with the least amount of groceries per person and hope for a competent and speedy cashier. If I only happen to have a couple items that day, I get irritated if the person in front of me with a cart full and no children doesn't offer me a spot ahead of them.

On top of that, while I was milling up and down the isles at the store today, I noticed items that weren't properly stacked but didn't bother to fix them. Items my children were even responsible for knocking over, and I didn't straighten them. My son picked up a handful of spilled dry beans he found, and I instructed him to put them back with the rest of them behind a pallet. Because the people who worked there would pick them up. That was their job, after all.

But what does all of that say about my heart?

Jesus sat down and called for the 12 disciples to come to him. Then he said, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last. They must be the servant of everyone.” {Mark 9:35 NIRV}

There are some really hard words in the Bible. Words like love one another, die to self, and be a servant. Sometimes, they top off the hard words with seemingly impossible ones, like be a servant of everyone. My selfish heart so often wishes for a footnote that excludes certain parties.

But I was reminded today that living well, living a Life that is Truly Life, is hard. It goes against every natural fiber of our being, and that's because it's other-worldly. We can't do it ourselves, and we weren't created to. It necessitates the very indwelling of Christ Himself to make choices that aren't selfish. Choices that give glory to Him alone. Choices that cause us to set aside our very life--our wants, our needs, our desires--in order to love others well.

To be the servant of everyone.

And if I'm really, really honest? I don't want to do that.

It's not comfortable; it's not convenient; it's not easy. Death is painful. Self doesn't want to sacrifice, self doesn't want to put in the hard work and long hours and deal with the pain involved in loving others well. Self, if it's really honest, would like to be the one who's served.

But it's in the trenches of other-worldliness, of spirit-filledness, of Christ-likeness in the midst of our humanness, that Life that is Truly Life is lived.

So what would it look like, friends, if we went about our simple lives doing the simple things we do every day, like going to the grocery store, with the heart of a servant? With the mindset, the goal, to intentionally put ourselves last?

Why, I think that could be a move bold enough to change the world...

To just let all that entitlement and self-righteousness be washed away with His blood.

To know that there is One who is our Righteousness, so we needn't defend our name.

To have eyes that look past the bridge of our own nose and see the real needs of others.

To have a heart of compassion towards them, because everyone is fighting a battle.

And maybe one of them, even just one, desperately needs someone to say to them today, "no, please, you first."






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October 4: Write 31 Days: The Only Voice that Matters Is God's

So, as you may have noticed, I missed yesterday. Because, well, LIFE.

And it's okay. I'm a grown woman and I do what I want, so Write 31 Days will not be the boss of me. It's now officially Write 30 Days and could very well continue to decline from there.

Sometimes the best thing you can do to get back to life that is truly life is to just relax, breathe, and let it go. I guess I could've jotted that down yesterday.

This brings me to an interesting aspect of Life that is Truly Life, which is the simple fact that the only voice that matters is God's.

You who are trying to be justified by the law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace. For through the Spirit we eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which we hope. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision has any value. The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. {Galatians 5:4-6}

For the early church, it was cultural norms like circumcision that people would turn to as a way of finding favor with God, of being justified. For the church today, it can look like many different things. We are surrounded by a culture of Christianity when in church, and there is an "acceptable way" of doing things. There are implied expectations on individuals who claim to love and follow Christ, but sometimes I wonder if all these expectations are really from God?

Most of these expectations are even good, like reading through your bible in a year, attending bible studies once a week, serving on Sunday, helping out on Wednesday, and being present at every event in between. But woven deep into the fabric of our being is the lie that we need to earn God's favor, that He's ready and waiting to punish us for our misdeeds and we need to do all we can to tip the scale in our favor. Our good deeds must outweigh our bad, and then we will be okay. We will pass the test. 

However, as many may be surprised to learn, there will be no test. There is no cosmic scale. The only thing that will count in the end is blood: either we allowed Christ to shed His blood for us while we were still on earth, or we can pay with our own on Judgement Day.

So I ask you today, friends, where do you find yourself still striving? Still trying to earn the creds yourself? We as a church body can be doing many good things for all the wrong reasons. We may even be praised for doing the wrong things because it's the grease in the cogs that keeps the church running. Someone has to do it, right?

But I'd encourage you to stop and consider your motives: ask yourself whose voice is telling you to do the things you do. Because the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love, and that will always bring you closer to God. That will always fill your heart with peace, not make it unsettled. That will always create a calmness in your soul, not fill your plate with business and worry.

The only voice that matters is God's. 

And if I'm a follower of Christ, my life no longer being my own, the conviction I receive from the Holy Spirit should guide and correct my steps. Not what the pastor expects from me on Sunday morning. Not what fellow church-goers will think of me. Not the list of things I "should be doing" in order to "be a good Christian."

Any voice that speaks from a place of fear, guilt, shame, condemnation, obligation, or hastiness is not the voice of God.

Whose voice are you listening to today?

October 3

October 2: Write 31 Days: Can't Have Life without the Way and the Truth

I'm not used to writing like this--just sitting at the computer, waiting for the words and inspiration to come. 

It's usually quite the opposite--I have an idea or get inspired, and as it begins to unravel like a ball of yarn, I sit down and type as fast as I can, hoping it doesn't get away from me before I get it all down.

I suppose that's discipline, though, and the ideas are sure to come like they always do.

This morning I was reminded of the self-esteem and identity struggles that permeated most of my adolescent and young adult life. The constant self-doubt, inability to measure up, dislike of my own reflection, and desperate craving to be someone else. Anyone else. The comparisons, the shame, the feelings of helplessness in the face of things that could not be changed. 

How I got into that pit I don't know, but I do remember very clearly the evidence I felt stacked up against me: 

Life experiences that proved I was unlovable, that I needed to be more or different.

A total lack of interested boys that communicated I wasn't beautiful.

Harsh opinions of peers that said I was strange and unlikeable, that I didn't fit in.

Very real teenage emotions that confirmed all these facts beyond a shadow of a doubt.

And life has a way of handing down a verdict in a trial you never wanted to be a part of. Fingers are pointed and judgement is cast, from the inside and out, and sometimes it feels as though you will carry it around forever.

These verdicts affect your relationships, dictate your thoughts, and cause you to pigeon-hole experiences and conversations and circumstances into a pre-determined formula regardless if they fit, because it's all you know. It's what you've come to believe and hold true.

And I realized, as I began to consider the concept that God loves me, that I'm beautiful and cherished in His sight, that He chose me, that I'm His masterpiece, it was almost too much. 

Because if you put all the evidence on a scale--the tangible things I've learned about myself from life experiences, personal interactions and very real feelings on one side, and this abstract concept that God loves me on the other--how does that balance out exactly? The evidence I have lived through, the things I have seen, felt and experienced feel much more real.

That's a very difficult scale to tip.

You have to be willing to consider, for a moment, that maybe the evidence is wrong. Maybe your feelings, although very real, are not very truthful. Perhaps, this view you've acquired of yourself is, in fact, skewed, and not in your favor. 

Maybe, just maybe, there are other words to describe you, and me. Words besides failure, unlovable and homely.

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. {John 14:6}

And if you're going to walk along this road leading to Life that is Truly Life, Christ Himself, then Jesus can't just be your Way. Sure, once you accept Him as Lord and Savior, it changes your life for eternity, but it can't stop there. It's not supposed be enough this side of heaven--we would miss out on so much!

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. {John 10:10 ESV}

There's a reason Jesus didn't just say He's "the Way" and leave it at that. In order to have Life and have it abundantly, we must also embrace the Truth. We can bring the lies we've believed our whole life about God, others, and ourselves into the light of His Truth. We can expose them for what they are and begin to finally taste and experience the abundant life He has for us.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. {Galatians 5:1}

True life cannot exist in bondage of any kind, including falsehoods we believe. Stand firm in freedom and truth today, friends. Allow Him to speak gently to your soul and tell you who you really are in Him.

My Identity in Jesus Christ {source}

John 1:12 – I am a child of God (Romans 8:16).

John 15:1,5 – I am a part of the true vine, a channel (branch) of His Life.

John 15:15 – I am Christ’s friend.

John 15:16 – I am chosen and appointed by Christ to bear His fruit.

Acts 1:8 – I am a personal witness of Christ for Christ.

Romans 3:24 – I have been justified and redeemed.

Romans 5:1 – I have been justified (completely forgiven and made righteous) and am at peace with God.

Romans 6:1-6 – I died with Christ and died to the power of sin’s rule in my life.

Romans 6:7 – I have been freed from sin’s power over me.

Romans 6:18 – I am a slave of righteousness.

Romans 6:22 – I am enslaved to God.

Romans 8:1 – I am forever free from condemnation.

Romans 8:14,15 – I am a son of God (God is literally my “Papa”) (Galatians 3:26; 4:6).

Romans 8:17 – I am an heir of God and fellow heir with Christ.

Romans 11:16 – I am holy.

Romans 15:7 – Christ has accepted me.

1 Corinthians 1:2 – I have been sanctified.

1 Corinthians 1:30 – I have been placed in Christ by God’s doing; Christ is now my wisdom from God, my righteousness, my sanctification, and my redemption.

1 Corinthians 2:12 – I have received the Spirit of God into my life that I might know the things freely given to me by God

1 Corinthians 2:16 – I have been given the mind of Christ.

1 Corinthians 3:16; 6:19 – I am a temple (home) of God; His Spirit (His life) dwells in me.

1 Corinthians 6:17 – I am joined to the Lord and am one spirit with Him.

1 Corinthians 6:19,20 – I have been bought with a price; I am not my own; I belong to God.

1 Corinthians 12:27 – I am a member of Christ’s body (Ephesians 5:30).

2 Corinthians 1:21 – I have been established in Christ and anointed by God.

2 Corinthians 2:14 – He always leads me in His triumph in Christ.

2 Corinthians 5:14,15 – Since I have died, I no longer live for myself, but for Christ.

2 Corinthians 5:17 – I am a new creation.

2 Corinthians 5:18,19 – I am reconciled to God and am a minister of reconciliation.

2 Corinthians 5:21 – I am the righteousness of God in Christ.

Galatians 2:4 – I have liberty in Christ Jesus.

Galatians 2:20 – I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. The life I am now living is Christ’s life.

Galatians 3:26,28 – I am a child of God and one in Christ.

Galatians 4:6,7 – I am a child of God and an heir through God.

Ephesians 1:1 – I am a saint (1 Corinthians 1:2; Philippians 1:1; Colossians 1:2).

Ephesians 1:3 – I am blessed with every spiritual blessing.

Ephesians 1:4 – I was chosen in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and without blame before Him.

Ephesians 1:5 – I have been adopted as God’s Child.

Ephesians 1:7,8 – I have been redeemed and forgiven, and am a recipient of His lavish grace.

Ephesians 2:5 – I have been made alive together with Christ.

Ephesians 2:6 – I have been raised up and seated with Christ in heaven.

Ephesians 2:10 – I am God’s workmanship, created in Christ to do His work that He planned beforehand that I should do.

Ephesians 2:13 – I have been brought near to God.

Ephesians 2:18 – I have direct access to God through the Spirit.

Ephesians 2:19 – I am a fellow citizen with the saints and a member of God’s household.

Ephesians 3:6 – I am a fellow heir, a fellow member of the body, and a fellow partaker of the promise in Christ Jesus.

Ephesians 3:12 – I may approach God with boldness and confidence.

Ephesians 4:24 – I am righteous and holy.

Philippians 3:20 – I am a citizen of heaven.

Philippians 4:7 – His peace guards my heart and my mind.

Philippians 4:19 – God will supply all my needs.

Colossians 1:13 – I have been delivered from the domain of darkness and transferred to the kingdom of Christ.

Colossians 1:14 – I have been redeemed and forgiven of all my sins. The debt against me has been canceled (Colossians 2:13,14).

Colossians 1:27 – Christ Himself is in me.

Colossians 2:7 – I have been firmly rooted in Christ and am now being built up and established in Him.

Colossians 2:10 – I have been made complete in Christ.

Colossians 2:12,13 – I have been buried, raised, and made alive with Christ, and totally forgiven.

Colossians 3:1 – I have been raised with Christ.

Colossians 3:3 – I have died, and my life is now hidden with Christ in God.

Colossians 3:4 – Christ is now my life.

Colossians 3:12 – I am chosen of God, holy and dearly loved (1 Thessalonians 1:4).

1 Thessalonians 5:5 – I am a child of light and not of darkness.

2 Timothy 1:7 – I have been given a spirit of power, love, and discipline.

2 Timothy 1:9 – I have been saved and called (set apart) according to God’s purpose and grace (Titus 3:5).

Hebrews 2:11 – Because I am sanctified and am one with Christ, He is not ashamed to call me His.

Hebrews 3:1 – I am a holy partaker of a heavenly calling.

Hebrews 3:14 – I am a partaker of Christ.

Hebrews 4:16 – I may come boldly before the throne of God to receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need

1 Peter 2:5 – I am one of God’s living stones and am being built up as a spiritual house

1 Peter 2:9,10 – I am a part of a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of God’s own possession.

1 Peter 2:11 – I am an alien and stranger to this world that I temporarily live in.

1 Peter 5:8 – I am an enemy of the devil. He is my adversary.

2 Peter 1:4 – I have been given God’s precious and magnificent promises by which I am a partaker of the divine nature.

1 John 3:1 – God has bestowed a great love on me and called me His child.

1 John 4:15 – God is in me and I am in God.

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October 1: Write 31 Days: He is Enough

For the month of October, I signed up to do the Write 31 Days challenge for the first time. The idea is to choose a topic and write about it each day for the entire month.

I'll be writing about Life that is Truly Life, which is something I've been mulling over a lot lately. Ironically, the same word that means to ponder, to think about carefully and consider -- mull -- also means to make a mess or failure of. Often in our futile overthinking of things, that's exactly what we humans do.

I've been thinking about how life that is truly life in Christ relates to the homeless person sitting next to me on the pew at church, or refugees clinging to life and each other on a sinking plastic raft. About opportunities to grow and capacity to stretch, about possessions, about values and what's really important when everything else is stripped away. This and so much more.

There's a notebook beside me filled with jotted down thoughts, moments of inspiration, glimpses of a bigger picture, of a world upside down. Of justice, of changing perspectives, yet I find myself steeped in reality at the moment.

I've kept up with the dishes this week, but there's always more waiting for me in the sink. Patiently they lie there in a stainless steel bed until I tuck them in at night, along with the children. Speaking of the children, they're dirty and need a bath. The load of laundry that was once clean in the washer a couple days ago no doubt needs washed again, at the very least, and finally put in the dryer this time around.

There is a pile of shoes arranged in a cruel tripping pattern at the bottom of the stairs and around the front door, the size of which would suggest an army of children much larger then four. Some shoes are too small and need packed away, others just need to find their way to a donation bin somewhere. Perhaps they could walk there themselves.

The discipleship material on the table sits unfinished even though my meeting is tomorrow, pillows are strewn across the floor instead of decorating the couches, homework remains on the kitchen table from last night, the children are currently refusing to nap, and I've talked to the assistant principal a couple times already today.

So this life in front of me today, this very real life, is anything but glamorous, inspirational or world-changing. It's routine. It's monotonous. It's stressful and overwhelming at times. I often forget that my very own tagline is "Meeting God in the mundane. Finding joy in the mess."

But it's an excellent reminder of Life that is Truly Life.

Because, friends, Jesus is Enough.

He promises to be with us always, a fellow passenger on the boat across the sea of life. When the waves grow tall and threaten to overwhelm us, to knock us over and pull us down into it's murky depths, when we are afraid and full of doubt, Jesus reaches out His hand.

You of little faith...why did you doubt? {Matthew 14:31}

And He doesn't just pull us back on the boat in the storm--He invites us into the calm. He creates calm if we allow Him to, if we take His hand. The winds die down and the waves cease, for truly He is the Son of God. He is more then enough, and He has always been.

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. {Matthew 11:28-30 MSG}

Walk with me. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.

Keep company with me. Learn to live freely and lightly.

Get away with me and you'll recover your life.

I love that.

The glorious provision in all of this, beloved, is that we are enough because He is enough. 

He died for us, He paid for us, He redeemed us. He is the beginning and the end, and He is victorious. He chose us, and He has already won. 

He is enough.

There is nothing we can do to add to that, and He wouldn't expect us to try. We don't need to accomplish more, be more, do more, or improve more. We don't need to try harder, check more items off the list, get it together, or finally get it right. We needn't be more Pinteresty, more likable on social media, or a better wife or mom. We are enough simply as we are--no more, no less--because of Him. 

Whatever storm you find yourself weathering today, allow Him to pull you back onto the boat, to show you the calmness of Life in Him. Life that is Truly Life. Take all your failures and place them in His open, pierced hands. Take all your "should's" and lay them down at His feet--don't let them should all over you any more today. 

There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. {Romans 8:1}

You are enough.

Come as you are. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace, for He is enough.

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