Oceans Deep

Finding & Following Jesus in the Deep End of Life

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Breaking Up With the Ugly Inside You

November 5, 2018 / / 0 Comments

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10 (NIV)

The day started out as any other: coffee, quiet time, crafting the day’s “To Do” list.

Pick up milk.

Reply to that e-mail.

Figure out what the heck is wrong with me.

I chuckled as I added the last item, but unfortunately it was true. A harried week and over-scheduled calendar left me exhausted on multiple fronts. Several conflicts with friends and family members mixed with the exhaustion to create a dark concoction of frustration and anger. I found myself irritated at any and all people.

When even my two-year-old was getting on my nerves, a harsh reality sunk in: my inner ugly was running the show, and we needed to break up.

Perhaps you can relate. Daily, we’re exposed to ugliness. It takes the form of violent crimes, news stories about bullying in school, and a seemingly endless supply of hateful rhetoric online. But what about when the ugliness isn’t inside a television or computer screen, but inside our own hearts?

Confronting our own hardened, selfish hearts is about as much fun as a root canal. But when our souls begin disintegrating faster than a stick of cotton candy in a rain storm, and we’re pointing exasperated fingers at everyone but ourselves, that’s our clue: we are the ones with the problem.

If we’re willing, the disease in our own hearts can propel us closer to the heart of our Heavenly Father—a Father who loves and gave His life for all people, even the ones rubbing us the wrong way.

So how can we break up with our inner ugly? A few simple yet powerful steps can set us in the right direction:

Click Restart. When our phone or computer crashes, we know it’s in need of a “restart.” The same is true of our hearts, and our Heavenly Father can give us the fresh start we need. As King David did, so we can pray: Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me (Psalm 51:10 NIV). We can take our ugly to the Father and allow Him to refresh and renew our hearts.

Reach Out. When our inner ugly rears its, well, ugly head, we’re often in need of a perspective change. Reaching out to a safe, trusted friend or mentor who will speak truth into your life can make all the difference in setting you back on the path of life. In this, we can spur one another on toward love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24 NIV).

Give Thanks. Few things send ugliness running for the hills faster than a heart of gratitude. Ugly and thankful simply don’t coexist. Choose gratitude, even if it’s white-knuckled and by the skin of your teeth.

Sweet reader, I pray that we would find courage to break up with the inner ugly. Refuse to give the enemy a foothold in your heart’s delicate soil.

And may we return to our “To Do” lists with nothing but a heart full of joy and love.

Blessings,

Hide & Seek

July 19, 2018 / / 0 Comments

Earlier this spring, I had the chance to hear Dr. Temple Grandin speak at the University of Georgia. Granted, she spoke to the veterinary school about animal behavior. But, as the mama to a son with Autism, I couldn’t resist an opportunity to see this incredible woman in person.

I listened, strangely captivated, as Dr. Grandin discussed everything from cattle behavior to how fear manifests itself in animals.

She spoke at length about sheep, a topic that piqued my interest, given all the parallels the scripture draws between us and this adorable (yet somewhat intellectually challenged!) breed:

But we your people, the sheep of your pasture, will give thanks to you forever (Psalm 79:13a ESV).

 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way (Isaiah 53:6a ESV).

 For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls (1 Peter 2:25 ESV).

One particular fact Dr. Grandin presented simply jumped out at me, and it’s been rattling around in my mind ever since:

Sheep hide the fact that they are in pain.

So much so, that if you need to know exactly where or how a sheep is injured, you have to stealthily catch it on hidden video!

This statement struck me between the eyes, as it seemed like yet another powerful example of how we humans mimic sheep. Because truthfully, how often do we talk honestly about our pain? We, like sheep, are masters of disguise, going to great lengths to hide our pain.

We hide behind a busy life or career.

We hide behind nice clothes and a forced smile.

We hide behind the paper-thin facade of an “I’ve got it all together” life.

And in our age of technology, we’ve become especially adept at hiding our pain behind shiny, filtered photos of “perfect moments.” Nevermind the fact that oftentimes, those moments are equally preceded and followed by less-than-shiny real life moments.

We hide our pain in a feeble attempt at self-preservation … yet the unfortunate truth is, pain that is hidden has no means for a healthy resolution. We limp along, working hard to cover and conceal.

What’s worse, pain in the hands of our enemy can be used to take us out. We put ourselves at great risk for becoming that unfortunate sheep at the back of the pack, moments away from being overtaken by the hungry predator.

This is a disconcerting reality. And yet, hope abounds—because pain, in the hands of our ever-redeeming God, can become a weapon against our enemy.

Dear reader, Jesus came so that you and I might be free (see Galatians 5:1).

Free from the need to hide our pain.

Free from the need to cover and cake over our scars with layers of lies.

Free from the empty life of pretending everything is fine all the time. I may not know you personally, but I know it’s not. Because life in this broken world is messy, difficult, and just plain distressing at times. We are, none of us, immune from this reality.

The honest sharing of our pain paves the way for us to find healing. And our decision to walk in authenticity can also pave the way for others to do likewise. What’s more, this opening up of our broken places gives glory to our Father—our Good Shepherd—as we reflect back all the ways His saving grace is touching and restoring our wounded hearts.

Not everyone is called to blog or write or speak publicly about his or her pain, but each one of us needs a safe person or small community with whom we can honestly be open about the state of our hearts.

Sweet reader, is there something you’re hiding today? From one needy soul to another, may I encourage you to seek out that safe place, and be willing to take the risk of speaking honestly about your pain.

The loving Shepherd and Overseer of your soul longs to draw you into an authentic, whole, abundant life, one full of fellowship with Him and with others.

You and I were never meant to carry our burdens alone. You and I were never meant to hide.

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2 ESV).

Today, I pray that you and I alike would find the courage to move toward healing by refusing to hide any longer. Freedom awaits, dear one.

Blessings,

 

For Those With a Heavy Heart This Mother’s Day

May 13, 2018 / / 2 Comments

In case your social media feed didn’t give it away or the dozens of men pouring over cards last minute at Target didn’t clue you in, it’s Mother’s Day.

I’m generally a sucker for most holidays, because who doesn’t like to celebrate life and all its various milestones and relationships? Plus, I have the best mother on the planet (sorry everyone else!), so it’s my joy to celebrate the incredible woman and rock she is to our family.

And even though this is my fifth Mother’s Day as a mother myself, I still look around at the chaos and the cribs and the toys and these three precious kiddos and think wow, I can’t believe they are mine!

But for many, this holiday brings a deep sadness. I think of our neighbors, who just lost their young daughter-in-law to cancer and now face the prospect of helping their son and 4-year-old grandchild navigate new, difficult waters in the absence of “mama.”

I think of those who have lost their moms and struggle deeply with the gaping hole created by such a loss.

Today especially, I think of a dear friend who longs to be celebrated on this day with a baby in belly or arms. Today, my heart is with all of you whose hearts are heavy with the desire of motherhood.

For years, this holiday caused a deep ache in my own heart, as I longed and waited to wear the title of “mother” and celebrate this day with my own child. And while God has answered that longing of my heart—and I’m incredibly grateful and thankful—becoming a mother has not been “the answer” to the ultimate longing of my heart. Because the truth?

My heart still aches. It aches in a different way now, but it does nonetheless.

It aches with the weight of a special needs child and the burden of navigating a path for him in this world that is oftentimes cruel to those who are different.

It aches with the burden of raising strong, confident daughters in the midst of our sex-obsessed, porn-saturated culture that screams at them daily, you are only as good as your body, your face, your beauty.

It aches with the sheer magnitude of what it means to raise little children to be strong, self-sufficient, whole, and wholesome members of this world.

I share all of this simply to say, if your heart is aching on this Mother’s Day, I understand. And you are so not alone.

In these manufactured holidays, it’s all too easy to fall into your sadness and think if only I was a mother! Then I would be:

 Happy

Peaceful

Fulfilled

Whole

But this is simply not true—it’s a crafty lie that feels impossibly true, but it’s a lie intended to keep your head down and your heart defeated.

The truth for you, and for me, and for every one of us, is that nothing on this earth can fully satisfy the deepest longing of our desperately longing hearts.

I know, and I mean, I know—that when your arms are empty, clinging to the truth that Jesus is enough seems a hard, outrageous choice. So today, I simply whisper a prayer over your heavy heart, and I ask God to make His Word come alive in you:

For He satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul He fills with good things (Psalm 107:9 NIV, emphasis added).

Good things.

May you see them, experience them, press on in relentless faith, believing that they are up ahead and waiting for you.

And whatever the boat in which you find yourself this Mother’s Day, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, guard your heart and soul and mind, dear reader.

Blessings,

Don’t Wallow in the Why

March 26, 2018 / / 5 Comments

It’s amazing how quickly a year can go by, isn’t it? Days tend to drag by at the speed of thick molasses pouring out on a cold day, yet somehow we turn around and twelve months have evaporated.

This month marks one year since we received Isaiah’s autism diagnosis.

An entire year since falling into an emotional black hole. An entire year since being handed a task I never desired and for which I feel inadequate.

An entire year since coming face-to-face with the God I’ve loved and served my whole life and whispering the dangerous but inevitable question, why?

Why.

It’s one of the most futile questions along our faith journey, for could we ever understand the mind of God? (see Romans 11:34)

Yet we simply cannot help ourselves.

Even if we mustered the ability to refrain from uttering the word, the raw emotion bubbling in the bones of those 3 letters would find a way to come screaming out of our pores. The guttural cry of why simply cannot be ignored.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve cried out to God over this past year, whether in words or in tears or both, grappling with why this path has been given to us.

But in my pain, I am encouraged that God understands this need to ask why. He made us, and He lovingly remembers that we are but dust (see Psalm 103:14).

And He is patient beyond understanding. From Job to Moses to David to Paul—all these spiritual giants of the faith—we see this crying out from the soul, this pouring out of the pain of why?

And as we approach Easter, may we not forget that even Jesus—our Savior, God’s own Son—cried out on the cross, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46 NIV).

Truthfully, I believe our Father welcomes this question, because it has the power to draw us close to His heart. Rather than stoically, silently trying to white-knuckle our way through pain and trials, asking why brings us face-to-face with the choice we must make:

When we don’t understand His plan, will we be willing to trust His heart? This heart that loves us so much, He wouldn’t even spare His own Son in order to save and redeem us (see Romans 8:32).

When faced with this choice a year ago, my answer wasn’t pretty and polished and blog-appropriate. I have battled, wrestled with my Heavenly Father through this simple, piercing choice.

Today, my heart is in a far better place than it was 365 days ago. There is still so much to be learned, so many battles to fight, and so much faith to develop and deepen.

But through the hills and valleys, God is sharpening my faith and teaching me an important lesson:

Ask why—but don’t wallow in it.

Ask why—and then take the next step.

That’s what this entire last year has been, a series of small, little steps taken as God opened the doors. Walking forward in His light, even when it shined just enough to see the next step. Putting faith into action by trusting Him to provide at the next point, and the next, and the next …

This is the way of the wilderness—trusting Him in each Red Sea obstacle, waterless desert, and soul-hunger pang. Being willing to pursue the Provider over the provision.

(and lest anyone make the mistake of thinking this is easy, may we never forget the Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 long year!).

So ask why, dear reader—go ahead and ask, scream, cry, shout. Lay it out before Him. Ask why, then take the next step.

Don’t wallow in the why.

What about you? Perhaps you too find yourself facing something heavy, some large, looming hurdle. What’s the next step God is gently asking you to take?

Maybe it’s finally calling that counselor.

Maybe it’s scheduling that difficult meeting with your boss.

Maybe it’s finding a new school.

Maybe it’s letting go of that thing you’ve been desperately trying to control.

Whatever you’re facing, may I encourage you to go before Jesus and ask Him to make that next step clear?

And whatever the answer, dear one, I pray that you and I will have the courage to faithfully, humbly, take that step with confidence and joy, knowing He will make the way, step by step, desert sand and all shuffling beneath our weary feet.

Blessings,

Going Under

February 5, 2018 / / 4 Comments

As a mom, a big part of my job is to teach my children. All you fellow parents know that throughout the day, we’re teaching our children morals, manners, numbers, letters, etc. (or attempting to, that is). And my 3-year-old is smack in the middle of the “why, mommy??” phase, so I’m doing a lot more teaching and explaining than I’d like these days!

But even so, I’m continually amazed at how much God has to teach me through their sweet, innocent lives. Scripture talks about how much Jesus loves little children, and how our faith should be like that of a child (see Matthew 18:3), because He knows the power they have to illustrate scriptural principles.

Recently, I had one such experience. While washing dishes one evening, I listened as my son expressed to his father an intense fear about taking off his floaties at the pool (there’s an indoor pool in town we’ve been using with the big kids as a way to work on swim skills during the winter. It’s also a great way to burn through those dicey pre-bedtime hours!).

While my daughter was happy to shed her floaties and swim “like a big kid,” my sweet, cautious boy has been reticent to follow suit. After several “I just don’t want to!” responses, Aaron was able to coax the real fear out of him:

I’m afraid of sinking to the bottom, he said in a sweet, small voice.

With a smile, Aaron asked him, do you really think I would let you sink?

Again, that sweet, small voice held intense resolve—yes.

With a confident, big bear hug, Aaron scooped him up and reassured him, I would never, ever let you sink!

I laughed as I dried worn pots and pans, thinking how absurd it was for my child to think we would ever let him get even close to sinking … but as soon as the thought crossed my mind, my own Heavenly Father gently whispered, but you relate to me in the same way, child. Do you really think I would ever, could ever, let you sink?

Comfort and conviction mingled in the midst of these thoughts, because truthfully, I live far too much of my life acting as if He will let me sink. Too often, I choose fear over trust … or worry over peace … or impatience over patient confidence that God will provide an answer to whatever situation has me wringing my hands that day.

Can you relate? We say with our mouths the truth of God’s Word and His promises to us … and yet, all too often our actions speak—shout, even—the exact opposite.

Our Creator God knows us intimately and understands our propensity to feel as though we’re sinking under the weight of our trials during stormy seasons. One of my favorite scriptures describing His promise to keep us anchored above the waves comes from Isaiah:

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you (Isaiah 43:2).

In the New Testament, we see Jesus calm the storm that His disciples feared would overtake them (see Matthew 8:23-27). And we read with awe the story of Peter walking on water with Jesus—who reached out and took hold of Peter when fear sent him sinking (see Matthew 14:22-33).

Over and over, we see God speak directly to this fear in us…this fear that our circumstances and our trials will sink us straight to the bottom of the deep end. That our pain, like a mammoth wave, will overtake us.

He meets that fear with the calm assurance of His never-ceasing presence and sustaining, steadfast love. Indeed, it is a hope we have as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure (Hebrews 6:19).

Is there some pain, some trial, some burden in your life, and it’s threatening to overwhelm and sink you under its weary weight? Are you afraid of going under? Perhaps the enemy is whispering in your ear the smooth lie that you can’t survive this; this is going to sink you.

Dear reader, may I encourage you—as I encourage myself—to listen intently to the voice of your Father. Mediate on and absorb the words of truth, these words that deliver life-sustaining oxygen to drowning lungs:

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made Heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep (Psalm 121:1-4 ESV).

May we be willing to trust our Father in a deeper way this week. May we find ourselves inching out over the water, anchored in a growing faith. And may the enemy’s deceitful voice be the only thing we find drowning!

Blessings,

 

The Ultimate “Love Like No Other”

December 19, 2017 / / 4 Comments

Hello dear readers, and Merry-Almost-Christmas! I hope this week finds you enjoying the excitement of this season (and not feeling too overwhelmed that we’re mere days away now!).

In the midst of Advent, I wanted to share an article I wrote earlier this year and recently published in the Inspire Love Anthology. I don’t know about you, but in the middle of buying and wrapping presents, planning meals, and rushing from one function to the other, I certainly need a reminder of what Christmas is really about. I hope this reminder of God’s enduring love for us blesses you and brings hope to your heart today!

The Ultimate “Love Like No Other”

When I first found out I was going to be a mom, the joy nearly overwhelmed my happy heart. After several years of waiting, it was finally my turn to experience the “love like no other” my friends and Hallmark had told me about for so long.

My clueless mind imagined that once this baby arrived, I would float on “Cloud 9” for the rest of my life, buoyed by the smell of sweet baby skin, adorable clothes, and innumerable kisses. And when my firstborn arrived, all cries and perfect baby preciousness, I did indeed experience an unspeakable love. The smell of his sweet baby skin robbed me of breath, and I marveled at how it took mere seconds to fall madly in love with this brand new human being.

The love of a mother for her child is indeed a beautiful, mysterious thing … and yet, as time would teach me, there exists another side to this “love like no other”—a side that doesn’t exactly have a place among the shiny, tingly Hallmark cards … because along with the glorious ups of motherhood come the painful lows of motherhood, the hard love of mothering.

At the tender age of 3, and after many months of testing and wondering (with a heaping side of denial), this beloved firstborn of mine received a diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder, or ASD. Those three little letters shook me to the core and sent me hurtling down the path of hard love. I found myself grieving what I thought motherhood would be and the child I thought my son would be. Instead, I began the journey of falling in love with the child God created him to be.

In the sad, blurry days following my son’s diagnosis, I would toss and turn late into the night, a million and one questions pinging across my tired brain.

God, why would You choose me to mother a child with ASD? I’m not cut out for it! How will I know what to even do for him?? I’m not like these bulldog-persistent-warrior moms I see out there! I’m quiet and reserved and don’t even know where to begin. I don’t want to fail him!

It’s easy for us moms to fall down the rabbit hole of doubting ourselves and wondering if we’re doing everything we should and could be doing for our children … and I’ve found this to be especially true in moms of kids with special needs.

Yes, these circumstances overwhelmed my heart with doubt and fear … but a funny thing happened in those sad and blurry days. A deep and primal love for my son began overwhelming my heart, more than the fear and doubt. I experienced a true love like no other, the kind that kicks in amidst the lowest of lows and compels you to go to the ends of the earth for your child. I found myself reading, researching, calling various resources, and reaching out to people—me, a classic introvert!

While we are just at the beginning of our son’s journey, I’m beginning to see that all these amazing moms of special needs kids aren’t simply born—they’re made, through the beautiful and painful process of walking a different road of motherhood. It’s the road of fashioning beauty from ashes. It’s the road of attending therapies and appointments more than play dates and parties. It’s being compelled by a love so strong, you couldn’t stop it even if you tried.

This hard love means continuing on another day, even when you’re so tired it feels like you might collapse. It means putting one foot in front of the other, even though you’d rather lock yourself in the bathroom and cry. It’s giving more of yourself, even after it seems as though there’s nothing left to give.

And while many days I wish for all the world this wasn’t our path, I want my son to know the love I have for him; I want him to know that, no matter how hard the road ahead, no matter what challenges and heartaches he will face, we will face them together. I will always walk by his side. As long as I have breath in my body, he can count on my steadfast love for him.

Because the truth is, love of any kind isn’t always easy—and it oftentimes looks quite different than we thought it would. Children push you to the brink; wedding day joy fades with the years of struggles and trials; friendships change with the passing of seasons. Others are not always easy to love, just as we are not always easy to love.

Everyone wants an enduring, “love like no other.” Incredibly, our Heavenly Father answers our desire with His steadfast love for us. Though we test and try and push and doubt Him at times, His unwavering love for us never falters. Though we give Him reason to lock Himself away from us, He never will and never could—even in the lowest of lows.

On the cross, He gave us all of Himself in the greatest act of love this world has ever seen. Indeed, though our love as mothers and fathers for our children is fierce, it is but a shadow of the love the Father has for us. Isaiah 49:15 says:

Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!

What a promise! And it’s a promise we can count on, one in which we can place our hope. Just as I long for my son to be certain of my love for him, so our Heavenly Father longs for us to know that we know that we know that He loves us.

Are you living in the reality of God’s unconditional, steadfast love for you today? What would it look like for you to absorb this truth and sink into the ultimate love like no other?

Rest assured, we will have difficult seasons, those unsuitable for a warm and fuzzy Hallmark card—but we will always have the assurance that God is working all things together for those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose (see Romans 8:28). And truth be told, that is all the warm and fuzzy we will ever need.

Blessings,

What To Do When You’re Not Living Your Best Life

November 3, 2017 / / 2 Comments

Hello, my dear readers—and bless your sweet souls for reading my sporadic, inconsistent posts. Remember the days I wrote regularly every week? Perhaps one day I’ll return to that…

But for now, words are few and far between. In part, it’s a season of life issue. Mothering three children four and under—and one with special needs—is exhausting. There’s simply only so much time in a day or week to devote to things other than keeping my tribe alive.

And yet in part—perhaps in larger part—it’s a season of heart issue.

November marks 6 months since we packed up our California life and headed back East. To say the past ½ year has been a roller coaster is…well…putting it mildly. I wouldn’t exactly describe these past 6 months as “living my best life.”

No, a far more accurate description would be Survivor. Or something along the lines of The Hunger Games.

And I don’t know about you, but I detest the feeling of living in survival mode … most especially when it comes to my faith.

I’ve been in a season of doubt—a season of struggling and wrestling with God over things I can’t make sense of, no matter how hard I try. It’s an arduous task, reconciling the God we know and love with pain … it’s an even more arduous task when we’re reconciling that God with our own pain.

Many times I’ve sat down to write, only to close the laptop in discouragement, knowing the doubt and mistrust with which I’m struggling. Y’all know me well enough to know that I’m not interested in writing (or reading!) empty words about the faith journey … I want to write something that’s genuine.

But you know what God has been so patiently, graciously showing me? Our struggle doesn’t have to stop our faith. Like Job, like Jacob, like so many other Biblical characters, we can keep walking the path with God while we wrestle with our doubts and fears.

Sometimes trusting God and His sovereignty comes in an instant, but oftentimes it comes after days, weeks, even months of struggling through it—and that’s OK!

The most important point is that we continue to wrestle it out with Him. That we keep placing our trust and hope in what we know in our heads to be true of God, even when that truth hasn’t found its way into our hearts just yet.

A recent devotion I read recounted the story of Abraham and Isaac on Mount Moriah, and I continue to be struck by Abraham’s display of steadfast faith. If anyone had reason to suspect God might be cruel or lacking in goodness, it was Abraham.

God promised something amazing—the miracle gift of a son after a lifetime of childlessness (see Genesis 15). But then Abraham had to wait, wait, wait some more for the realization of this gift. And then, after enjoying several years of fatherhood, God asked Abraham to sacrifice this long-awaited, much-adored son. My mom brain yells what???

And yet, Abraham never faltered. He trusted God and believed He would provide—even if that provision came in the wild form of raising Isaac from the dead! (see Hebrews 11:19).

That is some crazy awesome faith. And I find myself asking how?

It’s simple, really: Abraham knew God. He walked with Him. He talked with Him. Over and over, Genesis tells us that Abraham “called upon the name of the Lord” (see Genesis 12:8 ESV).

Abraham’s faith was the natural outflow of his personal relationship with the God of the universe. He’d been enjoying a front-row seat to the character of God and thus knew that God is good. That He can be trusted. That He is faithful. Even when our circumstances have us feeling like we’re taking crazy pills.

Abraham’s ancient faith speaks volumes to us today—if a man who walked and talked with God trusted Him enough to sacrifice his beloved only son, then we can trust Him as well.

Even when it’s a struggle.

Perhaps you too find yourself living in a bit of survival mode. Maybe your faith has taken a hit or you’re wrestling with God over the pain in your life. So what can we do when we’re not living our best life?

First, know this is a season.

Seasons, by definition, don’t last forever. And every season has its purpose, its place, and its blessings. Search for the blessings. I’m the first to admit that oftentimes, wrinkle-faced squinting is required to discover something definable as a blessing … but I promise you, the blessings are there. Even in darkness (see Isaiah 45:3).

Second, try to focus on what you can learn and do in this intense season.

God uses everything in our lives; there’s not a scrap of material that goes unnoticed or without purpose. Ask yourself the hard question: what is God possibly trying to teach me?

Do I need to realize and accept my lack of power to control outcomes?

Am I controlled by fear?

Am I allowing anger or bitterness to take root in my heart?

Jeremiah 29:13 says, You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart (ESV, emphasis added). We would all do well to ask ourselves what may be stopping us from seeking Him with our whole heart.

Lastly, and most importantly—keep going in faith.

Keep putting one foot in front of the other, step by step, moment by moment, day by day. You don’t have to have it all figured out to follow Him. We don’t have to have a nice, neat explanation to remain faithful (though of course, that would be nice!).

We can simply cling, sometimes in ugly desperation, to the promises of His word.

I’ve been camped out in the Psalms almost constantly for months now, and to me this is the perfect place to turn when you’re in need of rest and comfort from your Heavenly Father. In particular, I love the word of Psalm 92:12-15—

The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, to declare that the Lord is upright; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him (ESV, emphasis added).

Isn’t that a beautiful promise and the very definition of living one’s best life? Flourishing in Him. This is God’s heart towards you and me … we must hold firm to the truth of such words, even when our eyes fail to see their reality.

I’ll leave you with a beautiful quote from Elizabeth Elliot who, when speaking of handling our pain, said:

Lift up your hands, denoting your love, your acceptance, your thanksgiving and your trust that the Lord will make of this situation something redemptive and good.

Keep clinging, dear one. Keep wrestling. Lift it all up to the One who can and will bring it all together for good, one glorious day.

Blessings,

When God Has Other Plans

September 29, 2017 / / 4 Comments

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” ~Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV).

Don’t you love this promise from the book of Jeremiah? It’s an oft-quoted, embroidered, and framed verse, and for good reason. Who doesn’t love the assurance of prosperity, hope, and a future? And while yes, these words were specifically spoken to the children of Israel while in exile from Jerusalem, they shine a revealing light into God’s heart for all of His children.

In high school, I remember carefully taping a pink notecard inside my locker, these precious words scribbled on it in innocent adolescent handwriting. And when it was time to head to college, many of the graduation cards I received made note of this promise, reminding me of what “big things” God surely had in store.

In those days, I had no reason to doubt such wonderful words—would God’s plans include medical school or law school? What perfect, magical husband would He send me? How amazing and world-changing would our children be?

Yes, in those days, it was as if God didn’t need to remind me that He is the keeper of those plans, for surely they will line up with what I have already planned out in my own mind!

As I look back now with the vantage of time and deeper maturity, I wonder if God smiled at my bubbly naiveté—and winced a little at knowing that soon enough I would begin to learn the simple yet difficult truth about His plans …

… they are rarely, if ever, the ones I have in mind.

This month, Aaron and I celebrated our 12th anniversary. I’ve been thinking a lot about marriage, as I tend to do this time of year.  And truthfully, reflecting on these years leaves me with a mix of joy and sadness.

Make no mistake, God has done great things for us. My heart swells with thanksgiving at how He has taken care of me each step of the way.

He has performed miracles, provided strength in the weakest of times, given refreshment in the driest of deserts, acted as shelter in the most blistering of fires. There have been good, good things. But these years have not escaped the sting of intense pain.

Heartaches that my college-self never could have imagined.

Conflict. Betrayal. Infertility. Loneliness. Autism.

No, for these things I never planned, nor did I imagine God would either. In the midst of uncertainty and fear, the words of Jeremiah’s lifeline promise can feel like a heavy weight. In churning waters, it becomes all too easy to hang our heads and conclude these words must apply to someone other than me.

But dear reader, do you know that nothing could be further from the truth? The enemy loves to send out his sinister whispers, suggesting that we land just shy of every good thing God purposes for His people. Don’t fall for this lie.

When our doubt is the loudest, we must hold onto truth the fiercest.

Time and again lately, God is teaching me that it all boils down to a simple, sometimes excruciatingly difficult choice: do I really trust Him? And will I choose to trust Him?

When the words of Jeremiah 29:11 seem impossible in the context of our circumstances, will we decide to place our hand in His and keep on trusting anyway?

Personally, the simple, loaded question of why trips me up more than anything. It’s a heavy question to ask sometimes, right? I think of my son and his autism and the manifestation of that diagnosis in his little life … and I brace for the day his big brown eyes look into mine and ask why, mom? Why did this happen to me?

I don’t know, my love—I don’t know the specifics and the intricate details of why…but what do I know? Everything that happens to us will ultimately weave its way into a tapestry created for God’s glory and our very best.

Perhaps today you are struggling with your own why?

Why cancer? Or divorce? Or job loss? Or infertility? Why this pain?

I believe it is in these darkest of places that God intended to whisper the words of Jeremiah 29:11. The nation of Israel certainly wasn’t heading off to college with the world at her fingertips, bright shiny future laid out ahead.

No, God gave Jeremiah these words at a time when His chosen people found themselves exiled, cut off from Jerusalem—living in a foreign land, facing a future they’d never imagined.

When the dark comes, when the pain comes, dear reader, choose trust. He is longing for us to believe, to trust Him enough to set aside our doubts and cling to His promises. They are enough.

He is enough.

 

Blessings,

Summer School: A Lesson in God’s Sovereignty

August 13, 2017 / / 5 Comments

Hello readers! It’s been a while, I know. August is nearly halfway through, and school is back in session—can anyone tell me how that happened?!

Our summer has gone a bit like the opener to A Tale of Two Cities. Living in the South again and in close proximity to family and friends has been glorious and indeed the best of times.

On the other hand, living all summer out of suitcases in cramped, temporary housing with 3 restless, displaced children has not been so glorious.

Yes, for me, this summer has been a time of pruning and refining and waiting. I don’t remember signing up for this “summer course” in faith building … but apparently, God had a lot to teach me about His sovereignty and provision, and a house was the perfect teaching tool.

That’s right, a house.

Shortly before our California home went on the market in March, I had one of those “aha” moments with God. See, when we sold our home in Atlanta back in 2012, we got a bit raked over the coals. It was an unpleasant experience that left me never wanting to sell a house again!

So as we faced the prospect of selling our home, all my fears and negative emotions came roaring back. All the nail-biting “what ifs.”

What if the house doesn’t sell?

What if we have to keep dropping the price lower and lower?

What if we end up carrying two mortgages?

In the middle of my spiraling doomsday narrative, the Holy Spirit whispered—well, kind of shouted—will you just trust Me in this? Will you just rest and agree to let Me work?

I took a few deep breaths and let those words resonate. All out of excuses and fear, I gladly said yes, Lord. Yes, I will simply trust You and Your timing and Your goodness, from start to finish. It was a wonderful and comforting moment of closeness with Him!

A couple of months later, we received and accepted a great offer—and on the last day in our home, no less. Overjoyed, my heart rejoiced at this glorious provision, so poetic and perfect! The words of Romans 8:28 played in my head as I easily saw how well all these things worked together for our good.

In my mind, I already began crafting this blog post. God said to trust Him, and I did, and then **poof** a few weeks later, look how it all turned out! So pretty, so perfect, so wonderfully.

If only.

At 3 weeks into our contract, I received a phone call from our real estate agent that sent me reeling. Our buyers had to back out. We suddenly found ourselves on the losing end of a domino of failed contingencies.

I wish I could tell you that I immediately rested on my faith and trusted in the good word God whispered to me at the start, but I sure didn’t.

The disappointing news sent me spiraling down the path of struggle for the next many, many weeks. I experienced intense frustration, disappointment, and anger. How could everything slip through our fingers when it was nearly a done deal? Why??

I watched as house after house in our neighborhood slipped into escrow. We waited and waited and waited while showings trickled in, here and there. We held open houses. We dropped the price. We heard lots of crickets.

Day after day, I beat my wings against the question of why, exhausting myself like a caged bird. In my bitter frustration, I couldn’t see any possible reason why this contract falling through was for our good. My circumstances no longer fit the narrative of Romans 8:28 as I thought they should, and it.drove.me.crazy.

After many days and weeks and rounds of wrestling it out with God—all while reading a phenomenal book on God’s sovereignty—my Heavenly Father graciously revealed what was really eating at me so badly, why I couldn’t just trust and rest in Him.

This struggle to sell our home directly threatened and pierced the heart of my idolatrous desire for comfort and security. It revealed my mistaken, deep desire for the gift over the Giver.

For most of my adult life, I’ve been crafting an idol out of the desire for comfort and security in my circumstances. Unknowingly and meticulously, I’ve been carving my own golden calf (see Exodus 32).

And in His goodness, God removed that idol this summer. Through the months of confined and uncomfortable living conditions and uncertain and stressful financial concerns with selling our home, He allowed me to see my idol worship for what it really is—destructive, sinful, and faith destroying.

As David cried in Psalm 119:71, it is good for me that I was afflicted (ESV), so my heart now echoes the same cry, for I needed rescuing from my idolatry far more than I needed my house sold.

I needed to know the words of Philippians 4:19 deep into the marrow of my bones, which reads—

 And my God will supply every need of yours according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus (ESV).

 I needed to know the true meaning of God’s sovereignty and learn to trust His providence, both in good news and in bad.

Dear reader, do you know these truths in the deepest, truest parts of your heart? Perhaps you, like me, would readily say yes …and yet, when the rubber hits the road, you discover how much more you have to learn about this life of faith.

God’s sovereignty is never exercised apart from His goodness—even when things don’t look good to our flawed, near-sighted eyes. We can be certain that His dealings with us—whether painful or joyful, happy or sorrowful—will indeed work out for His glory and our ultimate good. The promise of Romans 8:28 will never fail, even when we fail to see its truth.

Perhaps you find yourself struggling through a situation today. Maybe a relationship. Or a job. Or a financial burden. Or a hunger you simply can’t seem to satisfy.

Dear one, let your deep need drive you to your knees before Jesus every morning, and throughout your day—as many moments as it takes until the truth of His provision and goodness settles and lands secure in the foundation of your heart.

Find a promise in scripture to which you can cling in your time of testing. For me, it was whispering the promise, He will provide, multiple times during each day.

Your Savior is inviting you into deeper communion with Him! Lean in, jump in with both feet—and be amazed at all the good things He has in store for you.

Blessings,

I Hate Moving {Part 2 of “I Hate Goodbyes”!}

July 9, 2017 / / 0 Comments

Hello, my dear, sweet readers! I hope y’all are having a great summer (and now that I’m officially back in Georgia, I’ll be using “y’all” a lot).

It’s been over two months since I wrote about saying goodbye to California and how awful goodbyes are … so this post can be considered a follow-up or “part 2” of that post, because you know what?

Saying “hello” kind of sinks too!

This is simply a reiteration of what y’all already know: moving is hard.

The past two months have been a blur of boxes, suitcases, hotels, and plenty of tears and temper tantrums (and not just the kids, ha!).

Our California house went under contract just before we moved, and everything was set to close last month—but then it all fell through at the last minute.

Our house here won’t finish construction until the beginning of end of August, so until then we are living in a tiny basement apartment with plenty of challenges and not nearly enough space for these kiddos. Add to that, Anni is now crawling and cruising and pulling up on everything, so that’s added a fun new element of parental anxiety and stress!

Our kiddos are having a tough time adjusting, especially our son, considering the overarching goal of those with autism is to keep the world the same (we’ve pretty much blown that goal out of the water!).

We’ve all been through stomach bugs and summer colds and our first bought with hand-foot-mouth disease, which—as it turns out—is just as lovely as the name suggests.

There’s been physical, emotional, and spiritual exhaustion as we wait, wait, wait for so many things to come through in this season of virtual free fall. My faith has been more than a little tested since embarking on this new adventure, and it doesn’t look like things will ease up anytime soon!

Moving opens the door to a highly vulnerable time, and it’s a vulnerability I truly dislike … like the shaky, clumsy feeling of finding my way around a new grocery store. Or the necessity of being glued to the GPS to go anywhere. Or the “fish out of water” feeling of readjusting to the South when I still feel like a Californian at heart.

The unfortunate truth for my change-resistant heart, however, is that God loves moves and often uses them as a means for gaining direct, lightning-fast access to our hearts. Think Abraham, Daniel, and Moses. And then there’s David, who didn’t simply have to move, he had to flee from his life of service at the palace to escape the wrath of King Saul (see Samuel 20). But these moves were critical to God’s providential plan in their lives and necessary to bring about His will.

Transition is a painful process, but so very, very crucial to our spiritual growth and transformation. It prepares us for what’s next, if we let it. The thought God keeps bringing me back to, over and over, is simple and yet difficult at the same time:

Stop resisting God’s teaching in your transition.

The change and upheaval and vulnerability stirred up in a move is oftentimes God’s way of saying hey, look up here! Look at me! There’s something I’m trying to teach you …and I’m going to press in until you get it! My own experience reminds me of this clip from “The Three Amigos” (one of the best movies of all time):

If you’re anything like me, sometimes it’s as though God is forced to relate to me in this manner, when I’m so focused on what’s at the end of my nose versus the good and sovereign path He has laid out ahead.

If you find yourself experiencing a move or change of some kind today, I want to encourage you to not allow the pain of transition to wear down your faith.

When Moses prepared to pass the baton of leadership off to Joshua, he spoke the following beautiful, divinely inspired words:

It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed (Deuteronomy 31:8 ESV).

Today, these words still ring true for you and for me. What a glorious promise, that we are not alone in the uncertainty and discomfort of transition. Life may feel out of control, but our God is always and forever in control!

May we cling ever tighter to Him in the midst of our chaos and be willing to hear and absorb the truth He longs to impress on our hearts.

Many blessings, y’all–

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