Healing tears are the best kind. Can I get an Amen. They feel so much hotter and wetter than all the other ones. I always feel like they spill down my face instead of just fall quietly. I think they feel like that because they are literally washing the pain away. I used to fight crying with a mad defiance. Now, I open my arms wide to embrace my healing tears. I finally realize that they are a gift.
I've been praying a lot lately about reverence. I've had some pretty big favors to ask Jesus, and I just wanted to check in to make sure I was asking the right way, or if I was allowed to ask at all.
Consequently, Chloe would not go to bed tonight. She just kept coming out quietly, and sweetly, and peering at me with those endless eyelashes batting. She had this simple, humble little look on her face…tugging at me and asking me to hold her. She wasn't being mischievous, or stalling (things she is for sure capable of). She just wanted a little more Mommy time. My initial instinct the second I heard the hard wood creaking, was to threaten a spanking and send her on her way. But I saw that face, and I knew to hold her and rock her, kiss her forehead, and whisper in her ear. These are MY FAVORITE moments. I would trade anything for them. Anything. Sweet baby in your arms…just wanting a moment. There is nothing in the world like it.
So Chloe goes to bed. And I ask. Am I allowed to ask for this much healing? Am I allowed to ask for this much redemption? Am I too much.
And I'm pretty sure he smiled. Just like I did when I saw Chloe's innocent face.
He showed me a very little me (yes smaller than I actually am)…tugging on his beautiful, enormous robe. And he peered down at me, with the love only a Father could have. Ask away.
When we yearn to be closer. When we ask for a little more Daddy time. These are HIS FAVORITE moments.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Testimony of Gods voice.
Disclaimer: I didn't want to use names in this story, so sorry if it's hard to follow with all of "the kid" references :)
I grew up with a desire to hear the voice of God. This past year, I sometimes have to tell him to stop speaking because the weight of his presence is too much for my weak body. When I made him my first choice, when I put every last bit of faith in him…he started talking…sometimes he yells, sometimes he whispers. But I have come to know his voice, and it is beautiful….
I have been helping out in the high school ministry at my church. Volunteering was never something I considered doing. That sounds harsh…but I really never thought about it. I am a good friend. I am a full time Mom. I have a busy career. I pray. How can I have time to hang out with a bunch of high school kids.
Well, I started doing little things here and there…coming to a few church services a month…then going on a few retreats with this ministry team. I just kind of fell into it. And oh man have I been ROCKED. These kids bless me to the core. I have never felt more privileged to be a part of something. I can't really describe what it feels like to have Gods heart for someone. For him to lay his love for someone else on you so that you can tell them. It is mind blowing. It is too much. It feels like you can't breath, and you have never felt better. It is supernatural. It is undeniable.
I met a kid this weekend at summer camp. He looks like he walked out of that high school musical movie. I'm sure he is a girl magnet, and has too many friends to keep up with. Yet there is this humble spirit inside of him that shines through. He has this all-American, adorable confidence, that would draw anyone in. So when I gave a second thought to him…I tried to brush it off. And then God started speaking. And I started crying. It was all I could do. The Fathers love is like no other. I started praying for this young man. Praying things I never could have known without the spirit. I was praying literal things, and general things, praying for his next day, next couple years, his whole life. It was so intense. I just kept lifting him in prayer whenever I felt a push from the Lord.
On the last day of camp this kid was chosen for a demonstration about being bound up in things that keep you away from God. The pastor literally tied him up with rope and then asked him to move. He couldn't. I knew so much that the skit was for him….all I could do was cry and pray more. Watching his binds fall from him, watching him understand that he can't do it alone. That the things that were binding him are weightless, and meaningless.
And the thing about hearing God…is that he will give you confirmation. He will let you know without a shadow of a doubt that it was him. (as if the crying from the pit of your soul wasn't enough of a clue.)
I hadn't told anyone about the intense prayer that had struck for this kid. And that night after the skit where he was bound up, the pastor leading it informed me that the kid had confronted him saying that he needed that…they couldn't have picked a better person for the demonstration. …this was God telling me I wasn't off my rocker, bigger things than I can comprehend are in the works…
So I marveled at how good God is. I sat in the splendor that he comes down and reaches out to us…we just have to choose to reach back. And I prayed some more.
And then Jesus told me. "He has a call on his life to be a pastor.". He has to choose it, pray about it, hear me in it. But that call is on his life. And then I said, " I AM NOT DELIVERING THAT HUGE MESSAGE!" Little old me could not possibly tell someone that. Especially someone with plans, and dreams, and things figured out. Well, I really didn't have a choice…I mean, God was talking to me. So I see the kid at church. And knowing what I have to do…I ask him to talk for a minute. And then I just spill. I don't really remember all that was said. I just remember that God WANTS HIM. God has put a heart in him that has been molded to lead. To shepherd. To discern what people need. When I said, "God told me that you might be a pastor"…I saw this light come over his head. Like an awakening in his spirit. I can't describe it. Anyway…we finished talking…and I was left in like this melted state of a person, just reveling in how amazing God is, and how he uses us.
And then more confirmation, of course. This night at church was designed to be testimony after testimony from the kids about their camp experience. So I hear Jesus…"He's going to tell his rope story." And I think…cool, it's going to be so awesome that I know that I hear you, when he marches up there. And then he says, "No, go tell him to tell the rope story"…and I kind shuffle my feet and ask God if he's sure, and then he sits on my chest so I know that it's him. So I go sit down next to the kid….and he knows it's coming (we were both laughing because it was so thick). "You're supposed to tell the rope story aren't you?"…He says, "yes."…
So he tells his story. My heart leaps that he gets it. My heart leaps that I hear Jesus. My heart leaps that heaven rejoices over these kids. I am so thankful that I'm here.
But wait, there's more. I'm outside, church is over. Jesus: "Go tell him about the attacks you know are coming."…tell him girls will want his love and approval. They will want him to be their savior. His big heart that I have put in him will want to help them. Tell him to listen to my voice. Tell him to obey. Tell him I have him. Tell him to stay vulnerable. Tell him it's ok. Tell him to pray.
So I do. I pull him aside once again. This kid I barely know, that I feel like I've had a beautiful peek into all he can and will be. I warn him. I tell him these things. We laugh that we both knew that he was supposed to speak. He tells me he didn't know what about though, until I mentioned the rope story…..I hear Jesus….yes I do.
Reminder to this young man:
Surrender your whole self
Stay vulnerable
Have your friends and family pray
I can't wait to see the fruit of what God is doing in you.
Amen.
I grew up with a desire to hear the voice of God. This past year, I sometimes have to tell him to stop speaking because the weight of his presence is too much for my weak body. When I made him my first choice, when I put every last bit of faith in him…he started talking…sometimes he yells, sometimes he whispers. But I have come to know his voice, and it is beautiful….
I have been helping out in the high school ministry at my church. Volunteering was never something I considered doing. That sounds harsh…but I really never thought about it. I am a good friend. I am a full time Mom. I have a busy career. I pray. How can I have time to hang out with a bunch of high school kids.
Well, I started doing little things here and there…coming to a few church services a month…then going on a few retreats with this ministry team. I just kind of fell into it. And oh man have I been ROCKED. These kids bless me to the core. I have never felt more privileged to be a part of something. I can't really describe what it feels like to have Gods heart for someone. For him to lay his love for someone else on you so that you can tell them. It is mind blowing. It is too much. It feels like you can't breath, and you have never felt better. It is supernatural. It is undeniable.
I met a kid this weekend at summer camp. He looks like he walked out of that high school musical movie. I'm sure he is a girl magnet, and has too many friends to keep up with. Yet there is this humble spirit inside of him that shines through. He has this all-American, adorable confidence, that would draw anyone in. So when I gave a second thought to him…I tried to brush it off. And then God started speaking. And I started crying. It was all I could do. The Fathers love is like no other. I started praying for this young man. Praying things I never could have known without the spirit. I was praying literal things, and general things, praying for his next day, next couple years, his whole life. It was so intense. I just kept lifting him in prayer whenever I felt a push from the Lord.
On the last day of camp this kid was chosen for a demonstration about being bound up in things that keep you away from God. The pastor literally tied him up with rope and then asked him to move. He couldn't. I knew so much that the skit was for him….all I could do was cry and pray more. Watching his binds fall from him, watching him understand that he can't do it alone. That the things that were binding him are weightless, and meaningless.
And the thing about hearing God…is that he will give you confirmation. He will let you know without a shadow of a doubt that it was him. (as if the crying from the pit of your soul wasn't enough of a clue.)
I hadn't told anyone about the intense prayer that had struck for this kid. And that night after the skit where he was bound up, the pastor leading it informed me that the kid had confronted him saying that he needed that…they couldn't have picked a better person for the demonstration. …this was God telling me I wasn't off my rocker, bigger things than I can comprehend are in the works…
So I marveled at how good God is. I sat in the splendor that he comes down and reaches out to us…we just have to choose to reach back. And I prayed some more.
And then Jesus told me. "He has a call on his life to be a pastor.". He has to choose it, pray about it, hear me in it. But that call is on his life. And then I said, " I AM NOT DELIVERING THAT HUGE MESSAGE!" Little old me could not possibly tell someone that. Especially someone with plans, and dreams, and things figured out. Well, I really didn't have a choice…I mean, God was talking to me. So I see the kid at church. And knowing what I have to do…I ask him to talk for a minute. And then I just spill. I don't really remember all that was said. I just remember that God WANTS HIM. God has put a heart in him that has been molded to lead. To shepherd. To discern what people need. When I said, "God told me that you might be a pastor"…I saw this light come over his head. Like an awakening in his spirit. I can't describe it. Anyway…we finished talking…and I was left in like this melted state of a person, just reveling in how amazing God is, and how he uses us.
And then more confirmation, of course. This night at church was designed to be testimony after testimony from the kids about their camp experience. So I hear Jesus…"He's going to tell his rope story." And I think…cool, it's going to be so awesome that I know that I hear you, when he marches up there. And then he says, "No, go tell him to tell the rope story"…and I kind shuffle my feet and ask God if he's sure, and then he sits on my chest so I know that it's him. So I go sit down next to the kid….and he knows it's coming (we were both laughing because it was so thick). "You're supposed to tell the rope story aren't you?"…He says, "yes."…
So he tells his story. My heart leaps that he gets it. My heart leaps that I hear Jesus. My heart leaps that heaven rejoices over these kids. I am so thankful that I'm here.
But wait, there's more. I'm outside, church is over. Jesus: "Go tell him about the attacks you know are coming."…tell him girls will want his love and approval. They will want him to be their savior. His big heart that I have put in him will want to help them. Tell him to listen to my voice. Tell him to obey. Tell him I have him. Tell him to stay vulnerable. Tell him it's ok. Tell him to pray.
So I do. I pull him aside once again. This kid I barely know, that I feel like I've had a beautiful peek into all he can and will be. I warn him. I tell him these things. We laugh that we both knew that he was supposed to speak. He tells me he didn't know what about though, until I mentioned the rope story…..I hear Jesus….yes I do.
Reminder to this young man:
Surrender your whole self
Stay vulnerable
Have your friends and family pray
I can't wait to see the fruit of what God is doing in you.
Amen.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Let the winds blow.
There is this song called Let The Winds Blow by Misty Edwards. It is beautiful. It grabs your and soul shakes it up. The words make you want to jump in the ocean without a life jacket and just let God speak right to you. The first time I heard it, I had been talking to Jesus all day everyday, he was literally all I thought about. So I sang this song out loud with everything in me, and told God to have his way…have his way with every part of my being. And even in trials, I would be turned right towards his face.
Fast forward a couple months. The winds started blowing. The trials came. And though I'll never leave him again, my faith wavered a little. Not my faith in God. That will not happen. But my faith that I was on the right track, my faith that he would step in, my faith that he cares enough about little old me. Well, that's the great thing about him. He's always faithful. Even when I am horrible at it. I was out in that ocean, and the waves were crashing, and I could barely catch my breath. At one point I said in my head…"Man, if you would just step in…All I could do is worship."….and then he whispered in the soft Dad voice that knows so much more than I do. You already know who I am. You already know what I do…
How could I not already be worshiping and living out of overflowing thankfulness!….Well, my heart changed…and even in my financial disarray, even in life's scary ups and downs, even when I don't want to watch my friends hurt…my thankfulness could burst, and I worshiped my creator. I worshiped him for who he is, for how far I have come, for what I have now, for what he has already done. I live a blessed life and I am so thankful for it.
And wouldn't you know…he showed me in actions that he heard my praises. He showered me. Rained his love and blessing all over me. The wind came. The weather shifted, it blew in my face. I heard his voice. Someone handed me money when it was not expected at all. He always does that when my face is turned towards his.
I am just plain thankful, and I pray I stay that way.
Fast forward a couple months. The winds started blowing. The trials came. And though I'll never leave him again, my faith wavered a little. Not my faith in God. That will not happen. But my faith that I was on the right track, my faith that he would step in, my faith that he cares enough about little old me. Well, that's the great thing about him. He's always faithful. Even when I am horrible at it. I was out in that ocean, and the waves were crashing, and I could barely catch my breath. At one point I said in my head…"Man, if you would just step in…All I could do is worship."….and then he whispered in the soft Dad voice that knows so much more than I do. You already know who I am. You already know what I do…
How could I not already be worshiping and living out of overflowing thankfulness!….Well, my heart changed…and even in my financial disarray, even in life's scary ups and downs, even when I don't want to watch my friends hurt…my thankfulness could burst, and I worshiped my creator. I worshiped him for who he is, for how far I have come, for what I have now, for what he has already done. I live a blessed life and I am so thankful for it.
And wouldn't you know…he showed me in actions that he heard my praises. He showered me. Rained his love and blessing all over me. The wind came. The weather shifted, it blew in my face. I heard his voice. Someone handed me money when it was not expected at all. He always does that when my face is turned towards his.
I am just plain thankful, and I pray I stay that way.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
I choose LOVE.
I glanced into the mirror the other day as I was getting ready. Something caught me off guard. I paused, and had to take a long gaze into my reflection. I looked different. Prettier. Glowy-er. I looked into the same eyes that I have stared at for 27 years and thought, what the heck is different. And then I just knew. I am finally comfortable in my own skin. I am celebrating who I am instead of who I think other people want me to be. I am happy as me, and am ok not putting myself into someone else's mold for fear of rejection.
Consequently, I am just finishing reading God Loves Ugly, by Christa Black. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. Towards the end, she asks that you write a list of what you love about yourself. I have actually felt a tug to do this for quite awhile, always struck with the lie that it seems so conceited…UGH LIE! If I cannot find things that I love about the person I know the most deeply, there is a problem! We are all worthy of loving and being loved. And how can I love fully, if I do not start within. I would never want a friend of mine to miss seeing how incredible they are, I would encourage them to write the longest list.
God told me awhile ago that he was going to heal me right up. His promises never fail.
I love that I am a different kind of Mother than I was taught to be.
I love that I can be wildly sarcastic.
I love that my immaturity makes me relatable to children.
I love that I'm short.
I love my freckles.
I love that I am ultra romantic.
I love that I'm artistic.
I love that I take risks, even when it's hard.
I love that I proclaim my faith in Jesus.
I love that I can fail in front of people.
I love that I am open minded.
I love that I am learning how to give.
I love that I am trying to be athletic.
I love that I can be a dork.
I love my style.
I love my photography.
I love my writing.
I love that I dance for no reason.
I love that I can be a prude.
I love my feet.
I have also felt led to just write "about myself." Just a small summary of what makes me great. Or unique. Or silly. Or dumb. Or maybe just declare some things out loud. Whatever, here it is.
I praise God that I finally chose him back, and that he shows me his reality day by day. I am so thankful that I was picked to parent my two precious babies. I love that the beach heals my soul with just the sight or smell of it. I love that I dream about romance. I love that I have come to appreciate a minivan as my dream car. Oh, how I swore I would not drive a minivan…oh how thankful I am to have a car. That simple lesson is the epitome of understanding what this life is about. Enjoy the journey you get! Enjoy the simple things! Enjoy the trials! Enjoy the lesson, we were made to grow…
I love that I would drop anything to dance in the rain. I love that I can be messy, but freak out when the mess gets too big.
I love history. Anything, or anyone with a story, a memory, or token of wisdom. I love old movies, oh Doris Day, Cary Grant, thank you.
I love running in grass. I LOVE WIND. I love really loud music. I would read 24 hours a day if it was allowed.
I love driving, especially with the windows down. And sometimes, at night, I turn my headlights off on a backroad, just for fun.
I love adventure, even if there is a risk of getting hurt…or lost, or not knowing what the heck you're doing.
My preferred outfit is comfy jeans and a worn in hoodie. As of two months ago, I feel naked without earrings. (this occurred after I poked fun at a friend who never takes hers out.) I would live in flip flops if it was at all practical. I believe in wearing sunscreen.
I love smelling like I've been in the sun. So coconut and vanilla are my favorite. Even in winter.
I love candles burning. I love worship music blaring. I love having people over. I love boardgames. I love card games.
I love that I get a what I call my 10th wind at midnight. I get kooky and crazy and can keep working until 3 in the morning.
I love that I can be extremely spicy, which sometimes includes sassy and sexy. I love that I'm learning to embrace that, and not be scared of it.
I love that I just said love 1500 times. I am excited to add to this list. And I pray that all we find more things to love about ourselves everyday.
Of course I could write a lot of things I don't like about myself. But guess what, I'm not going to. I CHOOSE love.
I love my life. Amen.
Consequently, I am just finishing reading God Loves Ugly, by Christa Black. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. Towards the end, she asks that you write a list of what you love about yourself. I have actually felt a tug to do this for quite awhile, always struck with the lie that it seems so conceited…UGH LIE! If I cannot find things that I love about the person I know the most deeply, there is a problem! We are all worthy of loving and being loved. And how can I love fully, if I do not start within. I would never want a friend of mine to miss seeing how incredible they are, I would encourage them to write the longest list.
God told me awhile ago that he was going to heal me right up. His promises never fail.
I love that I am a different kind of Mother than I was taught to be.
I love that I can be wildly sarcastic.
I love that my immaturity makes me relatable to children.
I love that I'm short.
I love my freckles.
I love that I am ultra romantic.
I love that I'm artistic.
I love that I take risks, even when it's hard.
I love that I proclaim my faith in Jesus.
I love that I can fail in front of people.
I love that I am open minded.
I love that I am learning how to give.
I love that I am trying to be athletic.
I love that I can be a dork.
I love my style.
I love my photography.
I love my writing.
I love that I dance for no reason.
I love that I can be a prude.
I love my feet.
I have also felt led to just write "about myself." Just a small summary of what makes me great. Or unique. Or silly. Or dumb. Or maybe just declare some things out loud. Whatever, here it is.
I praise God that I finally chose him back, and that he shows me his reality day by day. I am so thankful that I was picked to parent my two precious babies. I love that the beach heals my soul with just the sight or smell of it. I love that I dream about romance. I love that I have come to appreciate a minivan as my dream car. Oh, how I swore I would not drive a minivan…oh how thankful I am to have a car. That simple lesson is the epitome of understanding what this life is about. Enjoy the journey you get! Enjoy the simple things! Enjoy the trials! Enjoy the lesson, we were made to grow…
I love that I would drop anything to dance in the rain. I love that I can be messy, but freak out when the mess gets too big.
I love history. Anything, or anyone with a story, a memory, or token of wisdom. I love old movies, oh Doris Day, Cary Grant, thank you.
I love running in grass. I LOVE WIND. I love really loud music. I would read 24 hours a day if it was allowed.
I love driving, especially with the windows down. And sometimes, at night, I turn my headlights off on a backroad, just for fun.
I love adventure, even if there is a risk of getting hurt…or lost, or not knowing what the heck you're doing.
My preferred outfit is comfy jeans and a worn in hoodie. As of two months ago, I feel naked without earrings. (this occurred after I poked fun at a friend who never takes hers out.) I would live in flip flops if it was at all practical. I believe in wearing sunscreen.
I love smelling like I've been in the sun. So coconut and vanilla are my favorite. Even in winter.
I love candles burning. I love worship music blaring. I love having people over. I love boardgames. I love card games.
I love that I get a what I call my 10th wind at midnight. I get kooky and crazy and can keep working until 3 in the morning.
I love that I can be extremely spicy, which sometimes includes sassy and sexy. I love that I'm learning to embrace that, and not be scared of it.
I love that I just said love 1500 times. I am excited to add to this list. And I pray that all we find more things to love about ourselves everyday.
Of course I could write a lot of things I don't like about myself. But guess what, I'm not going to. I CHOOSE love.
I love my life. Amen.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Happy Mothers Day Ya-ya's
So I'm writing out Mothers Day cards. And I start thinking of some AMAZING Mothers. OH man, I just sit for a bit and revel in the fact that I know some rockin' women. Powerhouses. Fighters. Women that walk paths that have not been traveled before. And then I think of patience, tenacity, genius, grace, and sheer will. Which of course brings my mind to the yaya's...Lastly I think of unconditional love. This is the thread that holds this group buttoned to the same garment.
Carli Ray. You are first, I think, because you have 4. F-O-U-R. four. That in itself should be enough to get some kind of trophy. I don't have a trophy. But if I did, I promise you would be the recipient. I really LOVE the fact that you have four wildly amazing girls, but that does not make you a great parent. What makes you a great parent… is your tender voice that oozes patience. The same voice that calls out the most endearing nicknames I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. How I feel about your motherly voice is the same way I feel about your beautiful handwriting. It is perfection. Thank you for homeschooling your babies. Thank you for loving them with everything in you. Thank you for being fun. Thank you for your faith. Thank you for being a commander of justice. Thank you for reminding me, that to be a good parent, sometimes you have to remember being a kid. Makes me want to run through the sprinklers. I love you.
Carli. What I love about you being a Mommy, is very similar to what I love about you being a friend. And that is, that you do not waver, from being YOU. In your presence there is always Jesus, worship music, baking, your amazing garden, an open house, the ocean, something involving being loud or carefree. In your presence there is a thick passion for dare and adventure. The best part is, we don't have to leave the couch to feel it. Thank you for naming your babies names that mean something wonderful and powerful. Thank you for loving them before they were ever thought of. Thank you for pollywoggin'. Thank you for being you. Thank you for not caring about dirt, actually encouraging it :) Thank you for the free spirit in you, that you give freely to your kids, and mine. I love you.
Marcelle. Thinking about your parenting, reminds me of watching you eat, or tell a story, or describe a situation. Bottom line, you do it with everything in you, and you do it right. Nothing is left out. I love that about you, and how blessed Meira is for it. You will have the best, but you will also have fun…and sometimes you will just downright let go of the rules. I'll have you know, that every word in the first paragraph of this little note…applies directly to you. The grace you have as a parent, and especially regarding this year of your life…has humbled me to the floor. The innovation that you have shown so that Meira has the life you dream of for her, is a beautiful picture of Jesus' love in my life. Thank you for being part hippie. Thank you for being organic. Thank you for having style. Thank you for being selfless. Thank you for loving the simple things. Thank you for being the one that bought a kid leash. I love you.
Quite honestly, I probably could have written 3 novels….describing what I love about you as Mothers, and friends.
But I really just want to say that you inspire, motivate, and capture me. Happy Mothers Day.
Carli Ray. You are first, I think, because you have 4. F-O-U-R. four. That in itself should be enough to get some kind of trophy. I don't have a trophy. But if I did, I promise you would be the recipient. I really LOVE the fact that you have four wildly amazing girls, but that does not make you a great parent. What makes you a great parent… is your tender voice that oozes patience. The same voice that calls out the most endearing nicknames I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. How I feel about your motherly voice is the same way I feel about your beautiful handwriting. It is perfection. Thank you for homeschooling your babies. Thank you for loving them with everything in you. Thank you for being fun. Thank you for your faith. Thank you for being a commander of justice. Thank you for reminding me, that to be a good parent, sometimes you have to remember being a kid. Makes me want to run through the sprinklers. I love you.
Carli. What I love about you being a Mommy, is very similar to what I love about you being a friend. And that is, that you do not waver, from being YOU. In your presence there is always Jesus, worship music, baking, your amazing garden, an open house, the ocean, something involving being loud or carefree. In your presence there is a thick passion for dare and adventure. The best part is, we don't have to leave the couch to feel it. Thank you for naming your babies names that mean something wonderful and powerful. Thank you for loving them before they were ever thought of. Thank you for pollywoggin'. Thank you for being you. Thank you for not caring about dirt, actually encouraging it :) Thank you for the free spirit in you, that you give freely to your kids, and mine. I love you.
Marcelle. Thinking about your parenting, reminds me of watching you eat, or tell a story, or describe a situation. Bottom line, you do it with everything in you, and you do it right. Nothing is left out. I love that about you, and how blessed Meira is for it. You will have the best, but you will also have fun…and sometimes you will just downright let go of the rules. I'll have you know, that every word in the first paragraph of this little note…applies directly to you. The grace you have as a parent, and especially regarding this year of your life…has humbled me to the floor. The innovation that you have shown so that Meira has the life you dream of for her, is a beautiful picture of Jesus' love in my life. Thank you for being part hippie. Thank you for being organic. Thank you for having style. Thank you for being selfless. Thank you for loving the simple things. Thank you for being the one that bought a kid leash. I love you.
Quite honestly, I probably could have written 3 novels….describing what I love about you as Mothers, and friends.
But I really just want to say that you inspire, motivate, and capture me. Happy Mothers Day.
Monday, April 25, 2011
How does your garden grow.
There was a day that I was in need of prayer (that's every day, but I actually requested it this day). So my friend is praying for me in my kitchen. She has her hand on my back and I am soaking up her words and feeling the holy spirit moving in our presence. Then all of a sudden I am not hearing her words…they just sort of fade away…(she is still speaking)…but my ear is listening to something else. Another voice speaks. YOU are my bride. It was loud, and authoritative, and beautiful. And then it was gone…and my voice was left in my head saying, "um, what? What the heck does that mean?" (At this exact moment) out of the living room the song I walked down the aisle to at my wedding starts blaring from the speakers. This is bigger than I know. A little info about how the song was playing…I did not have that CD in the player, and the actual song is # 6 on the disc. Meaning…my daughter grabbed that CD out of the 125+ that I own, put it into the 3 disc CD player, and turned it to song 6… which is basically impossible to do without any other songs being heard while being skipped. HELLO GOD.
So I prayed about this fascinating bride scenario. I still am. I don't know the whole picture yet. But more has come…
Another day of requested prayer…night actually. Angst is a good word to describe how I was feeling. So there I am getting prayer again. And I see myself holding a bouquet of flowers. My bouquet is very small, puny actually. It feels and looks tiny, unworthy even. And then I see a big hand stretched out before my bouquet with a ton of beautiful, robust, not puny flowers in it. And I hear…"I have all of the flowers, stretched out before you, to add to your bouquet….and you are not taking them."
EPIPHANY: The flowers are not hidden in a cave. They are not in some wild, untrodden land that I cannot find or learn about fast enough. They are in front of my face. They are within an arms distance. I do not have to win this love. I do not have to work for it. But, I do have to trust. And sometimes that is very, very hard.
It is so easy to listen to the world. To listen to voices I am used to hearing. It is easy to think that I do not deserve an unending love. It is extremely easy to think that the gifts run out, or that I am not worthy of getting them anymore. The truth is that the flowers do not stop coming. I believe that I will get a full bouquet…start handing my flowers out…and then get new ones :) Actually, he told me that part too. OH what a beautiful thing. He never tires of helping us. He's always there. But he can't give me flowers if my hands are busy holding weeds. (If my metaphorical speaking is hard to follow, the weeds are lies.)
He can't fill me with truth, if I'm busy listening to lies. I thought I had already taken the necessary steps to get rid of my angst. (as if there is a formula, ugh)… I prayed. I prayed some more. I repented, and read. I had my friend pray for me. I yelled upward a few times. But, I left a loophole. I wasn't being completely transparent. I wasn't trusting him. Not completely. I reverted backward. Oh how we are like infants sometimes. I was saying yes, you are big, I get that. But you only have your hand on the good things in my life…not the hard things, or seemingly bad things. UM HELLO. I GAVE HIM MY WHOLE LIFE!!!! Why the heck am I trying to take some of it back and not let him touch it. Who knows…but tonight, I am handing it back over.
And I am excited to watch my bouquet grow.
James 1: 2-4
2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,[a] whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
So I prayed about this fascinating bride scenario. I still am. I don't know the whole picture yet. But more has come…
Another day of requested prayer…night actually. Angst is a good word to describe how I was feeling. So there I am getting prayer again. And I see myself holding a bouquet of flowers. My bouquet is very small, puny actually. It feels and looks tiny, unworthy even. And then I see a big hand stretched out before my bouquet with a ton of beautiful, robust, not puny flowers in it. And I hear…"I have all of the flowers, stretched out before you, to add to your bouquet….and you are not taking them."
EPIPHANY: The flowers are not hidden in a cave. They are not in some wild, untrodden land that I cannot find or learn about fast enough. They are in front of my face. They are within an arms distance. I do not have to win this love. I do not have to work for it. But, I do have to trust. And sometimes that is very, very hard.
It is so easy to listen to the world. To listen to voices I am used to hearing. It is easy to think that I do not deserve an unending love. It is extremely easy to think that the gifts run out, or that I am not worthy of getting them anymore. The truth is that the flowers do not stop coming. I believe that I will get a full bouquet…start handing my flowers out…and then get new ones :) Actually, he told me that part too. OH what a beautiful thing. He never tires of helping us. He's always there. But he can't give me flowers if my hands are busy holding weeds. (If my metaphorical speaking is hard to follow, the weeds are lies.)
He can't fill me with truth, if I'm busy listening to lies. I thought I had already taken the necessary steps to get rid of my angst. (as if there is a formula, ugh)… I prayed. I prayed some more. I repented, and read. I had my friend pray for me. I yelled upward a few times. But, I left a loophole. I wasn't being completely transparent. I wasn't trusting him. Not completely. I reverted backward. Oh how we are like infants sometimes. I was saying yes, you are big, I get that. But you only have your hand on the good things in my life…not the hard things, or seemingly bad things. UM HELLO. I GAVE HIM MY WHOLE LIFE!!!! Why the heck am I trying to take some of it back and not let him touch it. Who knows…but tonight, I am handing it back over.
And I am excited to watch my bouquet grow.
James 1: 2-4
2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,[a] whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Restoration.
Disclaimer: I have not been in a relationship with my Mom, Stepdad, and my brother in over 6 years. My brother is 15. Severed is a good word to describe us. The brother part was not by choice. So here's part of my day...
Restoration is on my mind. It is amazing what can happen when we let God be big. I consider myself beyond blessed that I have some very wise people in my life. People that guide me, encourage me, and sometimes just flat out call me on my crap.
Today started with breakfast with some of my favorites. These mornings are filled with a constant love. One that you walk into. It engulfs you when you walk in the door, and you are free to be whatever or whoever you want to be, and whatever that may be…you will be loved. You will be loved in your weakness, in your strength, and everything in between. The only unwritten condition is that you love back. And when it comes to these ladies…boy do I.
So restoration. Later in the day, I was driving through the place I grew up in. My friend needed a ride to pick up a car. I happened to drive by my Step Fathers truck at a creek that we frequented as children (this has not happened in 6 years, it was completely out of the blue). I instantly thought of my little brother, who I'm not allowed to speak to. My mind fluttered with thoughts of the last time I got to see him, hug him, play with him. Then my mind wandered over to the love-fest breakfast. Oh and that wisdom just hit. I long to see him, I miss him, I love him. I don't know how to go about that. That's ok…someone else has bigger plans…(I do not know what they are yet ;). But I trust him. I will pray for messengers…a token I learned from breakfast…
My mind then wandered to my adorable sister calling me last night to re-enact one of our late night past times as kids. Her call was just a sweet reminder of our little inside jokes. That there are some things only sisters share. That our bond started a long time ago…and without us really knowing it. Here's the epiphany….My bond started with my brother the same way…a long time ago, without me knowing it. But it is there. And it is strong. And I don't care what he's been hearing for the past 6 years, I know he remembers it too.
So today, I will trust. I will not believe the lie that things are beyond repair. I will believe that the price was already paid for restoration, and it was the biggest price. And will have faith that God will bring us back, and make us better.
My dear friend also prayed for me tonight, and gave me this scripture…I say amen :)
Joel: 2:25 " I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you."
He restores YEARS, and he restores GREAT DAMAGE…yup, amen.
Restoration is on my mind. It is amazing what can happen when we let God be big. I consider myself beyond blessed that I have some very wise people in my life. People that guide me, encourage me, and sometimes just flat out call me on my crap.
Today started with breakfast with some of my favorites. These mornings are filled with a constant love. One that you walk into. It engulfs you when you walk in the door, and you are free to be whatever or whoever you want to be, and whatever that may be…you will be loved. You will be loved in your weakness, in your strength, and everything in between. The only unwritten condition is that you love back. And when it comes to these ladies…boy do I.
So restoration. Later in the day, I was driving through the place I grew up in. My friend needed a ride to pick up a car. I happened to drive by my Step Fathers truck at a creek that we frequented as children (this has not happened in 6 years, it was completely out of the blue). I instantly thought of my little brother, who I'm not allowed to speak to. My mind fluttered with thoughts of the last time I got to see him, hug him, play with him. Then my mind wandered over to the love-fest breakfast. Oh and that wisdom just hit. I long to see him, I miss him, I love him. I don't know how to go about that. That's ok…someone else has bigger plans…(I do not know what they are yet ;). But I trust him. I will pray for messengers…a token I learned from breakfast…
My mind then wandered to my adorable sister calling me last night to re-enact one of our late night past times as kids. Her call was just a sweet reminder of our little inside jokes. That there are some things only sisters share. That our bond started a long time ago…and without us really knowing it. Here's the epiphany….My bond started with my brother the same way…a long time ago, without me knowing it. But it is there. And it is strong. And I don't care what he's been hearing for the past 6 years, I know he remembers it too.
So today, I will trust. I will not believe the lie that things are beyond repair. I will believe that the price was already paid for restoration, and it was the biggest price. And will have faith that God will bring us back, and make us better.
My dear friend also prayed for me tonight, and gave me this scripture…I say amen :)
Joel: 2:25 " I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you."
He restores YEARS, and he restores GREAT DAMAGE…yup, amen.
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