Friday, April 17, 2015

Oh, selfishness

Today I am weary.  I’m sad.  I’m heartbroken.  I’m upset.  And I’m trying to push past all of these feelings, trying to let them roll off of my shoulders and onto the floor.  I’m trying to force logic and reasoning onto all of things that don’t make any sense in my life.  And I can try all day, and all week, and all year.  But I’m never going to figure it out.  

Oh, perspective.  I wish I could be like Job in the bible, but I know that I’m not like him.  Not yet.  Things get a little shaky in my life and I feel like leaf on a tree in an autumn wind storm.  I forget who I am attached to, who I can lean on, who I am.  I get spinny and shaky and trembly.  Thank goodness I have a GOOD FATHER.  He grabs my face and my heart and reminds me when I forget.  

When Shai was born it was VERY possible that she was not going to be with us very long on this earth.  I ran out of that big hospital onto the sidewalk, I stood there broken and crying, and I made every pact you can think of with the first real love of my life.  PLEASE LET ME KNOW HER!!!! Please let me see her get a little bigger.  Please. Please, even if it’s only a little longer, let me have her.  AND HE DID. I should live every waking moment of my life out of that reality.  He answered me.  Over and over and over.  He blessed me, and molded me, and shaped me, and grew me.  He met me.  

And He still does, ALL THE TIME. 

Sometimes, we don’t see healing.  Sometimes we don’t understand.  This doesn’t change the goodness of God.  This doesn’t change His character, it doesn’t change His plans, or thoughts towards us.  It can change us though, it can ruin us.  We can get spinny, and shaky, and trembly, and forget WHOSE we are.   

I, or, uh, we, can be selfish.  Forgetting what we DO HAVE, and focusing on what we DON’T HAVE.  I have MORE than enough.  And when I don’t have what I need in the moment, He surrounds me with people that do.

Lord forgive me for being selfish.  For focusing on what I do not have, and not being thankful for all that I do have.  Forgive me for being prideful.  For expecting provision to look a certain way, not taking it any way that it comes.  I will be thankful and glad, even in trial, for YOU ARE FAITHFUL, AND JUST, AND GOOD!  I will expect to see miracles at the sound of your name, and I will throw my unknowingness at your feet!  YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN ENOUGH!  

Thank you more times than I have words to say.  Please keep changing me.  Amen.

Matthew 7:10-12New King James Version (NKJV)

10 Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent? 11 If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him! 12 Therefore, whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.

Matthew 6:25-31

Do Not Worry
25 “Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?
28 “So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; 29 and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

31 “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Saying it out loud

Saying it out loud.

God’s been taking me on a journey over the past couple years that is hard to put into words, but I ought to, for accountability, for remembrance, for praise.

When I was a child I wanted to be a mom.  I just did.  I knew I was made for it.  Being an actual parent will test every notion that you are any good at it.  Insert laughter here.  

So 5 years ago, I got divorced.  It’s been a whirlwind of putting one foot in front of the other, trying to pay rent, raising 2 precious girls, and seeking God for everything.  And He has been FAITHFUL.  Restoring my family, repairing my identity, providing, overcoming, uplifting, encountering, HEALING.  He has patiently changed my perspective of who He is, and humbled me to realize who I am not.  I am not in control.  I am not weak (with Him).  I am not forgotten, nor forsaken.  I am HIS.  

God is The Father.  He IS unconditional love.  To know Him is to know that love.  We are to be ambassadors and carriers of that kind of love.  I have always wanted to adopt children.  The logistics, finances, and geography that I have going in my life do not line up with this dream.  I began to think it was a vision for a very distant future, or maybe a metaphor of some kind.  Yet my soul longed and ached. 

We are to be lights of the world.  To reach out to the orphans and widows.  To help. To come alongside.  Even if we don’t know what it looks like.  Even if we can’t imagine it.  Even if we don’t know how.

I always proclaimed that I could not do foster care, because I didn’t want to give the babies back.  God encountered me at church about a year and a 1/2 ago and told me “You can’t do foster care in your own power, but THROUGH ME YOU CAN, I WILL SUSTAIN YOU.”…

God is my rock, and my safe place.  He has anointed me, and changed me, and saved me.  Alone, I cannot do a lot of things.  But by calling on HIM I can do anything He asks of me.  

So this is the beginning of this journey.  I am going to be a foster parent.  I am going to care for and protect babies and children.  I am going to befriend moms and dads, and pray for all of them.  I am going to step forth in faith.  I am going to continue to cry out to God and lean on HIM for grace and sustenance.  

And I NEED your prayers.  I need support.  I need fellowship.  Please Pray for and with my family.    

Thursday, September 18, 2014


I discovered today that conviction is exciting.  Guilt and shame are depression disguised.  But conviction is different.  It says, “I love you too much to leave you here.”  I was super convicted today.  Revelation hit me like a brick falling straight from the sky, right onto the top of my head.  

I had an external hardrive go out about a year ago.  It was devastating.  Client jobs, personal photos, gone.  In an instant.  It was a big bummer.  I’ve been praying for the drive to be repaired since.  This morning I really hunkered down and prayed (in thought, not like on my knees, not that I don’t ever do that).  Jesus, I want it back.  I really really really want it back. I want those people to have their pictures.  I don’t care about my name, I don’t care about looking bad…but I want them to have them, I really want it.  I got an email 2 hours later from the repair guy saying he found a donor to get parts from (he has literally been searching this entire time, to no avail).  And then the feeling of shock ran all over me.  WOW.  God hears me.  I sat in that for awhile.

Then I was in the shower.  Like so often when epiphanies hit…..apparently it’s a new trend.  And I started celebrating again in my head about how there might be an end in sight for this, that it wasn’t a dream, I really received that email…woohoo!  And then…BAM.  I SHOULD NOT BE SURPRISED.  Not in the least.  I should be expectant, in waiting, proclaiming, declaring.  My posture and attitude should always be that God will come through, provide, astonish.  BECAUSE HE ALWAYS HAS, ALWAYS DOES, AND ALWAYS WILL.  


Lord, I repent for making you small on a daily basis.  Please do not stop changing me.  


Thursday, September 11, 2014

Humble pie. I'll eat it.

I often ask for God to MAKE me humble.

I pray it all the time. 

In the car, in passing, before bed.

MAKE me humble.

“Do it, God.”  Is the demanding voice in my head.

He is so so so patient, and good.

Today I was in the shower, shaving my legs, where so many epiphanies make their way into my heart.  

“You can only be as humble, as you are vulnerable.”


I have to give up something for this humbleness?!  I have to open up? I have to be transparent?  I have to expose the things that haunt me..I have to be honest…I have to be vulnerable?  Well, crap.

Ok, I still want it.  I want to be humble.  I want to have open arms.  I want to be different than I’ve seen, and different than I know now.  I WANT IT.

You can have it. My pride. My insecurities.  Me.  YOU CAN HAVE ALL OF IT.  You can have my doubts, and fears, and dreams, yes you can have my dreams, and my happiness.  I WANT YOUR HOLINESS. I WANT IT!!!!

You can have my parenting, my control, my patterns, and cycles.  You can have my perspective.  You can have my timelines, and my fantasies.  Please, come in, have them. 

And I’m so sorry when I don’t believe you.  I am sorry for listening to lies.  I am sorry for believing in your goodness only for others.  I am sorry for getting caught up in material things.  I am sorry for being impatient.  


Monday, September 16, 2013


I just jumped out of bed with an epiphany. 

I started this year singing, "set a fire down in my soul, that I can't contain, that I can't control, I want more of you God"….I told 2013 this was my song.  I was shouting to God, set a fire in my heart for the things of Your heart.  And He has been.  And I have been semi-ignoring this longing, this calling, this press on my heart that He's been trying to nudge me with.  I was ignoring it because I felt unworthy.  Because I am filled with doubt.  Honestly, I didn't even realize the extent of what was happening.

I want to adopt kids.  I have visions, and dreams, and longings of adopting kids.

I want to adopt kids so badly, that it makes my heart stir, and my head spin, and my fists shake.  It's an inner longing of my soul that I can't stifle, snuff out, or push down, try as I might.  And I've been trying.

I am a single mom of 2 precious babies that I can't really afford.  I am busy.  I don't have time for my dream outlook of "Motherhood."  I don't volunteer in classrooms,  I work into the night, and a meal in our home looks like me standing at the counter, while the girls sit at an undone table. 

I let my tally of the things I leave undone, and the ways I'm barely surviving, dictate the dreams that God has been sharing with me, and pressing upon me.  I put God in a box and basically said I wouldn't partner with Him until the fairytale was put into place.  Maybe when I'm married to prince charming.  Maybe when we have a house in the country, where all the adopted kids can go run free, and I can work on the side if I choose to.  Maybe when I can pay off all of the bills, maybe when I'm better at being a Mom, maybe then.

My doubt-filled head has been trying to convince my passionate spirit that I am not enough.  And the thing is, it's right.  I'm absolutely not enough.  I'm sort of a mess.  But HE, HE is good.  And everyday, I lean a little closer in.  And sometimes, I forget that He's so big, and deep, and wide, and capable.  And HE makes me capable.   

He showed me tonight, that while my kids might not know how to cook, and we haven't completely mastered tying our shoes, while we don't have a chore chart, and we keep it pretty spontaneous in our home…He reminded me….My girls KNOW that they are loved.  They know that they are cherished, and special, and my favorite.  They know that they are important.  They know that I am proud of them.  They know how to be kind, and gracious, and patient.  They know how to give.  They know how to pray.   

They know that God is good, and through Him, all things are possible.

And tonight, I remember that too.

Jesus, I will believe in the promise and longing of adoption.  I will believe in your perfect plan and timing.  And I will not partner with fear, doubt, and shame.  Whether it's soon, or far away.  I will wait on you, and believe.

Sunday, May 12, 2013


How can something that makes you feel sad, tearful, weak, hurt….be laced with a fondness, a remembrance, a glimmer of hope.

not all things are always lost.

When you are a parent, you realize you have A LOT of choices to make.  When to discipline, when to hug, when to break rules, when to scold, when to laugh out loud, when to hug, when not to let go, when to let go, when to admit you're wrong, when to cry, when to scream (yes, it is absolutely necessary sometimes to scream), when to go all in, when to fold (no, I'm not really a card player), when to chase, when to wait, when to let them fail. 

We make choices as parents that teach our kids about how to love, and how to live.  How to forgive, how to be thankful, how to have boundaries.  It's not always easy.  And the best way to show them, is to live out what we speak. 

This Mothers Day…I feel a little challenged.  I feel like, in the spirit of honoring motherhood, its time recall my thankfulness for my Mom.  To make a choice to remember the good, and forgive the bad. 

The ugly, hurt part of me….sometimes discredits my Moms wonderful attributes because of very serious pain that she has caused.  Life isn't always fair.  Sometimes it's messy.  I have a choice to not leave people in their mistakes.  Even if they were big ones.  Sometimes we don't know how to navigate situations, let's just admit that it's ok to admit that. 

When I was 12, exactly around the time you start really shaving your legs, and wanting to do your hair every morning before school, my Mom and Step Dad moved into a tent on 160 acres in the middle of nowhere.  When I say "the middle of nowhere" I mean a plot of land smack dab in the center of 30,000 acres, with no other houses on it.  Land that you get to by driving on a two mile, 4 wheel drive road, with a creek crossing over it at 3 different points.  When people talk about roads with potholes, I fondly remember a road MADE of potholes.

In the beginning, this place was my worst nightmare.  My Mom wanted to build her dream house.  It had a view.  I wanted to throw up.  I moved in with my older sister while my family camped out, and worked on putting the frame (and a tiny bit more) of the house up. 

Six Months later, our home had wooden 2x4 walls, no drywall, plywood floors, no doors for bedrooms or bathroom, and a plank of wood (acting as stairs) to the sliding-glass front door.  Electricity was available because of our small generator, and you had to turn the light off in the kitchen so that you would have enough power to flush the toilet. 

My life up to this point had consisted mainly of subdivisions, air conditioning, more than one bathroom, a paved driveway, schools 5 minutes away, light switches, running water at all times, basically, extremely "normal" living conditions.  I don't even remember ever going camping.  This was uncharted territory.

The bugs got in the house.  The dust was thick.  Summer days were hotter than hot.  So hot, that I would wet a beach towel and lay it over my body at bedtime.  I would fall asleep praying that a breeze would slip through the window.  I'm not exaggerating.  The animals had to eat early.  The animals had to eat twice a day.  The hay got in your face when you threw it over the fence.  I smelled and tasted alfalfa all the time.  The skunks sprayed the dogs.  The water smelled of sulfur, and tasted salty.  The coyotes were loud.  A laundry basket of wet clothes is heavy.  It was so hot.  Carrying 5 gallon gas cans, bales of hay, propane tanks, and 50 lb. bags of dog food, was on the daily agenda.  We could only shower a couple times a week.  Thank God for the small above-ground pool.  That, and a bucket worked fine in a pinch.  In the beginning, I felt like a fragile shaking tree, caught in a hurricane.  I would cry over how weird my life was.

When I would outwardly complain,

My Mom would proclaim, "This builds character!"

If words could have a weight in gold, those ones surely would.

Wisdom can't be bought though.

I don't remember the exact day I decided to stop resenting my life.  But I do remember warm sun coming through the open windows, while Patsy Cline sang me through my indoor chores.  I remember stars so bright, you could walk all night by the light of them.  I remember horse races in an open meadow, watching the bats fly out at twilight, hiking for endless hours with your best friends (aka little sister and brother) and getting lost exploring and laughing.  I remember hearing Moms whistle, and knowing it was time to turn towards home.  I remember grabbing turtles in creek beds.  I remember elk herds, deer stampeding, and bald eagles soaring above the wide open meadow that happened to be directly out our back door.

I remember swimming holes, and waterfalls, and the smell of fresh rain on top of a powdery dirt road.  I remember catching tadpoles, stepping on bull frogs, and fresh chicken eggs.  It was still hot, there were still chores.  But the air was so fresh, and the sunsets looked like rich oil painted on a massive canvas.  In the springtime, the grass was such a bright green, and it felt like a soft damp blanket under your feet. 

We had callouses, and scars, and we smelled like dirt at the end of the day.  We had creeks, and baby cows, and wild animals (some were pets, some came with the land).  We had rattlesnakes, and cars that could barely make it home .  We skipped rocks, and ran barefoot, and laid in the lazy sunshine for hours on end.  In the winter, we would catch a rare dusting of snow, and slide in sneakers on the frozen pond.  We missed school when the creeks were too high to drive through.  We learned to tell time by the sun, and we learned that God was good by the beauty around us.  That HIS character was steadfast and true, mighty, mysterious, and always in control.

We had sweat, and tears, and sorrow.  We had joy, and triumph and laughter.  We were doers.  We achieved.  We got by.  We had country music and back roads.  We had sun tea, and barbecues, and horse troughs.  We had chickens, and sheep, and goats, and horses, and dogs, and cats, and mountain lions, and coyotes, and foxes, and buzzards.  We had life humming and buzzing all around us at every moment.  But there was also a stillness, a quietness, that some never get the pleasure of knowing.

We had floods, and lost power, and watched our animals pass away.  We had circumstances that only God could fix.  And we knew He would.  And He did.  We had character.  And today, I am very thankful, for that.

Thank you, Mom.

Monday, April 29, 2013

A hasty spirit.

Day 3.

A hasty spirit.


unsettled, unrequited, busy

un-charmed, un-loved
throw that blanket off like an afghan sliding on bare shoulders
feel its weight hit the ground
handing over boulders.
easy yoke, light burden
lifted eyes, not down-trodden
peer out
smile deep
take a breath
soul to sleep. 

2 Timothy 1:7 For God had not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

We are not called to have a hasty spirit, we are called to call upon God.  

That's what I have to say about that.