Oceans Deep

Finding & Following Jesus in the Deep End of Life

Category: Motherhood (page 1 of 5)

Finding Hope When You’re Standing Outside the Box

I sat in the school main office, the smile on my face betraying the tightness in my chest. With hope, I waited while my young son completed an entrance exam at a new school; but that hope quickly turned to familiar despair the moment he returned with the teacher.

This teacher did her best to offer some positive words, but it was quite clear—my son hadn’t performed very well. And sure enough, a few days later I received the official call stating how sorry they were, but my son simply wasn’t a good fit.

Good fit

Two words that seemed innocent enough, but they carried deep emotion for my worn out mama heart. Ever since autism came into our lives, we’ve heard those words countless times. And each time, they hurt.

Over time, it’s easy to feel as though you’re standing outside the proverbial “box.” Everyone else fits neatly into a category or some pre-determined plan. And yet, there you are, waiting on the outside of all those boxes and wondering where do I fit?

Perhaps you too can relate to the pain of failing to be a “good fit.”

Your dream job turned out to be more of a nightmare, and now you feel stuck in a job or career you never envisioned.

A friendship that once felt so solid disintegrated before your very eyes, leaving a black hole of loneliness in its place.  

The child you so desperately love and prayed for now faces an unclear and uncertain future.

Or maybe you’re standing inside a box far different that you ever hoped or imagined. Single, when you thought by now you’d be married. Divorced, when you thought your love story would stand the test of time. Widowed, when death swept in like a thief and stole the person you thought would be holding your hand for years to come.

Many years ago, a man named Job experienced the intense pain of standing “outside the box.” In an instant, he lost his family, his livelihood, and finally his very health—all of which left him wallowing in the uncomfortable space outside all the other boxes, wondering where in the world he fit and where God was in his suffering.

After crying out in desperation and going round and round with his “friends,” God finally spoke and answered Job with thundering wisdom. Over the course of five beautiful chapters of scripture, God reminded Job of His infinite existence:

“‘Who is this who obscures My counsel with ignorant words? Get ready to answer Me like a man; when I question you, you will inform Me. Where were you when I established the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who fixed its dimensions? Certainly you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it?’”

Job 38:2-5 (HCSB)

After coming head to head with his Creator God, Job found the perspective shift he needed. And right there in the midst of the chaos and pain, Job gained the clarity he’d been lacking. God eventually restored all that Job lost and more, but before that restoration occurred, Job’s soul found the true and lasting peace he needed most:

“Then Job answered the Lord and said: ‘I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.’”

Job 42:1-2 (ESV, emphasis added)

Though written thousands of years ago, I believe the message of these words holds just as true for you and me today—for these words remind us of a key truth the enemy wants us to forget:

There is no box.

Our God cannot and will not be contained by any human system on this earth. He created all things, owns all things, and holds all resources at His disposal.

You and I may see no plan or no way through the problem pressing in right now—and indeed, our enemy wants nothing more than for us to believe we are forever stuck in the discomfort and pain of our current circumstances.

But in our fear and frailty, we must remember: God always, always has a plan. And a good one at that.

Dear one, if you find yourself standing outside the box, wondering what in the world to do and if God even sees you, may I gently encourage you to trade your fear for rest

As Job learned, may we too learn and know in the core of our being that nothing is too hard for our God. 

No option is closed to Him. No plan of His can be stopped or derailed by the confusion and suffering our eyes see. And where we see only options A and B, God holds options C through Z and a thousand more at His tender disposal.

Whatever box we find ourselves standing inside or outside of today, may we dig in with faith and expectant joy, knowing that He is working all things together in the good and glorious way that only He can.

With Grace,

Are You a Super Tired Super Mama?

Hey readers! Today’s post is for all the amazing mamas out there.

I see you, working your hardest from sunrise to sunset (and beyond!).

I see you, burning the candle at both ends, sacrificing for your family and loved ones.

I see you, stealing quiet moments here and there to be alone with God, leaning into your faith in this unsteady terrain of motherhood.

Being a mother is a great and glorious calling–but it’s not easy! That seems incredibly obvious on this side of motherhood, yet the same couldn’t be said of me in my pre-baby life. I truly thought it would be rainbows and butterflies (it’s ok, you can laugh at me–I’m laughing at myself!).

Recently, I had the joy and privilege of sitting down for a video chat with my amazing life coach, Torie Henderson. We’ve been working together for several months, and it’s made such a difference in my life!

I wanted to share the interview in the hopes that you too will be encouraged that really change is possible. Life coaching is a tool God has used to reveal so many lies that were tangled up in my mind, preventing me from walking in freedom with Him. And while this may not be a good fit for you, I hope this interview will give you hope that better days are possible.

You can check out the link HERE!

With Grace,

A Prayer for the New School Year

Hello sweet readers, and how have we made it to August?? Wasn’t it just May and we were all losing our minds with the craziness that is end-of-school? Phew . . .

I hope your summer was full of sun, fun, and new memories made. As a child, summer equaled pure joy. As a mom, there is plenty of joy–but oh, there is plenty of hair-pulling!

As hard as it can be to let go of the lazy days of summer, I am ready for a new start, a new structure, and a little time to breathe deeply and sip coffee in silence (can I get an Amen?).

Even so, my heart is anxious as we approach the start of school. Our big kids are heading to kindergarten–their first taste of “real” school. Their first step in the long journey of finding their way outside of our home and into all that God has for their own lives (cue the mama tears!).

So as we begin a new year, I wanted to offer up some words of prayer over our babies. I have been praying these words over my children, my nieces and nephews, and children of my friends. And now I pray these words over you and your kiddos.

May we walk with confidence and joy into this new season, clinging ever-so-tightly to His goodness and provision!

With Grace,

 


A Prayer for the New School Year

Dear Heavenly Father,

As a new school year approaches, we thank and praise You for being the God who sees us (Genesis 16:13). You see our children and know all that lies ahead. We thank You that they do not walk alone as they walk into the classroom, but that You go with them always (Matthew 28:20).

Lord, we pray against fear and anxiety in their little hearts and ask that You would surround them with Your protective presence (Isaiah 41:10) and let Your peace reign in their hearts (Colossians 3:15).

We pray too for our hearts, that we would not let anxiety overwhelm, but instead bring You all our hopes, fears, and requests, that Your peace may rule in our hearts as well (Philippians 4:6-7).

Father, we ask that You would provide all they need, to thrive and flourish in this upcoming year—for You are the God who provides (Genesis 22:14).

We ask that You would protect their hearts, minds, spirits, and bodies in each day of this year, for You are the One who guards and protects their steps (2 Thessalonians 3:3).

Father, we ask that You would bestow supernatural courage over their lives, as they face challenges, trials, heartaches, and difficult decisions. May they walk with a courage that comes from knowing You are God, and You are good (Deuteronomy 31:8).

Jesus, give them a heart that longs to know You more in this school year—a heart that trusts in Your good and unfailing plans for them (Psalm 138:8; Jeremiah 29:11). Draw their tender hearts to You, and may Your Word be the light that guides them (Psalm 119:105).

We ask that as parents, You would give us the wisdom we need to guide and parent them through everything this season holds (Proverbs 2:11). May we also be given the courage we need to love and lead them through trials as You would have us do (Psalm 34:19).

Father, thank You for loving our babies even more than we do—help us trust in Your heart of goodness toward us (1 Chronicles 16:34; Psalm 145:9).

May all we do and say glorify Your name (Colossians 3:23) as You lead us in Your way everlasting—

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Facing A Shattered Dream?

If so, head on over to Proverbs 31 today, where I’m sharing some encouragement!

With Grace,

On Birthday Parties & Grief

I recently came across a powerful quote from C.S. Lewis, and its wisdom resonated deeply with me:

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

I read this on a day when grief felt overpowering—a day we attended a birthday party with our young autistic son.

You may be thinking, A child’s birthday party and grief? How in the world do these go together?

But sweet reader, for many of us with special needs children, birthday parties can be tantamount to torture. Where you see fun, we see landmines.

Loud noises, lots of children, all the sugar, new and overwhelming sensory stimuli—basically, all the things that can lead to a meltdown of epic proportions.

So when my precious son did indeed begin melting down in the highly acoustic lobby of the trampoline park, I was done. Some days, I feel strong and competent as a special needs mama. But that day, the curious and judgmental stares from parents pierced me.

Grief sunk my weary soul. I slipped off from my husband to wipe the tears stinging my eyes and attempt to compose myself before devolving into an “ugly cry.”

And while I could wipe away the tears, I could not wipe away the heavy weight of unmet expectations. I could powder over my Rudolph-red nose, but not the sting of disappointment.

Sometimes, the hardest dreams to let go of are the ones we don’t even realize we’re carrying. I can’t recall ever consciously dreaming about what birthday parties would look like with my children … and yet, expectations planted themselves deep in my heart nonetheless.

I wonder if you can relate? Maybe your dreams of a happy marriage have smashed into pieces against a wall of infidelity. Maybe you’re still waiting on the children your heart felt sure would come. Maybe illness prevents you from pursuing a dream you just knew came from God. Or maybe financial pressure has squeezed every last ounce of dreaming from your soul.

Every time we’re forced let go of a dream or an expectation, grief comes rushing in. And as C.S. Lewis so wisely observed, our grief gives way to fear. What will the future look like—in this job, this marriage, this illness? It isn’t going to look like I thought it would—so now what?

In the book of Genesis, we read about Joseph, a man who was well acquainted with the shattering of dreams and the agony of asking now what?

After dreaming he would be lifted high, he ended up tossed in a well by his own brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused of assault, and sitting in a prison with no hope of ever escaping.

If anyone had reason to grieve the death of his dreams, it was Joseph. And yet, all along, those dreams never died. Only his expectations of how they would manifest.

We get to read the thrilling story of how, in the end, God did indeed elevate Joseph, and his brothers did indeed bow down to him (see Genesis 42). God paved the way to provide for the house of Jacob in the midst of famine, all of which ultimately let to the birth of the Nation of Israel. In this, we see a much bigger plan playing out:

“But Joseph said to [his brothers], ‘Do not fear, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.’”

Genesis 50:19-20 ESV, emphasis added

I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that Joseph had no idea what hung in the balance of his dreams. Like us, his dreams probably began and ended with himself. But God is about so much more—for you, for me, and for this world He created and loves.

Sweet reader, do you see a dream dying? Let me encourage you to grieve the loss. True healing begins with grief, so give yourself time and space to grieve the loss and feel the fear … but oh, sweet soul, then let go of your fear and disappointment.

Perhaps your dream is taking a different form than you originally thought. But as Joseph learned full well, dreams in the hands of our Lord are far more beautiful and powerful than we could ever imagine.

Today, my heart prays that we may both have the courage to trust God’s good and loving heart, even as we wait with no clue what the future may hold. There is so much more at stake in God’s sovereign plan for you and for me.

For me, birthday parties are simply one example in a long line of things that will likely not look like I thought they would as I mother my son.

But I know my God is working out something bigger and greater, a plan that reaches beyond my own life. The same is true for you today, too, sweet reader.

And that is something to celebrate indeed.

With Grace,

Keeping A Light On In The Dark

I don’t know about you, but for me, end-of-school year brings with it a generous serving of mixed emotions, piled high and spilling over.

Crossing the finish line of another year evokes elation, exhaustion, nostalgia, sadness, and sweetness. When the endless obligations cease and the air quiets down once again, a time for reflection rushes in—whether welcomed or not.

For us, this year brimmed full with personal growth … and I know I don’t have to tell you that “personal growth” is a pretty, polished way of saying, we’ve been through the ringer and somehow we’re still standing and hopefully we learned a lot through the process.

Because isn’t that how it goes? I’ve yet to meet a person who experienced deep personal growth without the catalyst of pain moving things right along.

Oftentimes, it’s hard to even see the growth among the thick, prickly weeds.

I can look around and easily see the wreckage. The broken relationships, the dashed hopes, the things that turned out so differently than I’d expected or planned. These things block my path and cloud my mind, speaking the language of false truth into a fragile heart.

Sometimes, a school year can leave you feeling bruised.

Sometimes, a relationship drains your emotional reserves.

Sometimes, a season of hardship seems to drag on, far past its expiration date.

And sometimes, the light feels so very dim, as though the palpable darkness of fear and uncertainty threatens to swallow you up whole.

Perhaps you had a great year—your kids are thriving, your relationships are singing, and life is bee-bopping right along. This is an occasion to give praise and thanks to God!

But if it hasn’t been great—if you, like me, find yourself squinting to catch a glimpse of light in the murky world of “personal growth,” may I speak a word of comfort to your weary heart?

God is still working in the dark.

No matter how dim the light, no matter how challenging the season, our Father stands near, enfolding us in His trusted Hands.

In Psalm 139, David speaks to the Father’s nearness and the truth that no season or challenge or darkness can hide us from His eye:

“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? … If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,’ even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.”

Psalm 139:7, 11-12 (emphasis added)

What an incredible promise we can sink our teeth into. Just above the darkness pressing down thick and heavy, our Father sees it all in light. He sees all our pain and trial and growth as it truly is: carefully held in place by His sovereignty and ultimately woven together for our highest good (see Romans 8:28).

So hang on, dear reader. If you’re swimming in a season of darkness, hang on to the flickering light of His steadfast presence and love.

When you can’t see the way forward, trust that He sees, because all is light to Him. “God is light; in Him there is no darkness at all  (1 John 1:5 NIV).

Focus on the simplicity of taking the next right step, trusting Him to illuminate the way as you walk.

And remember, always, the truth that seasons change. Your darkness will not always be dark. But in the darkness, there are lessons waiting to unfold and treasures ripe for unearthing (see Isaiah 45:3).

So while you wait and while you mine the shadowy places, let the light of His steadfast love illuminate the path forward—one small, faithful step at a time.

Be Blessed,

Hey Mama–It’s Ok To Feel Angry Sometimes

Hello, dear readers!

Today’s post is for all my hard-working and exhausted mamas out there—all of you staring down the end-of-school and making your massive “To Do” lists (and checking them twice…or every hour on the hour!).

I confess, the stress of this time of year gets to me. I’ve found myself short on patience more days than I care to admit. I’ve found myself low on grace and high on bedtime apologies. I’ve done the forbidden “wishing time away” by dreaming of a calmer day.

And I’ve threatened to bolt to Mexico if slapped with one more request for money, toys, gifts, or party food. Who’s coming with me?

Lest you forget, let me gently remind you: this motherhood gig is hard.

The unseen, unacknowledged, unrelenting work you do day in and day out is a high and holy calling. Those sweet “Pampers” commercials can sometimes lull us into forgetting just how challenging this work really is! And just how many emotions—like anger—it can stir up within us.

If you’re anything like me, the fatigue and monotony tempt me to forget the gravity of this work. And oh, how our enemy loves to divert our eyes towards others in a destructive game of comparison, whispering lies about the greater value of other people’s work.

But do you know what? Our work as moms actually mimics the work of Jesus like few other professions! In Mark 10, we read an account of how Jesus’ disciples were vying for praise and honor, arguing over who would sit at His side in Heaven.

And as Jesus so beautifully does, He turned the disciple’s values on their head, teaching them a lesson they—and we!—needed to hear:

“[W]hoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave to all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.”

Mark 10:43-45 NIV (emphasis added)

Jesus’ entire mission on this earth was to lay down His life for others. He calls us to follow Him by doing likewise, and that’s exactly what you are doing—every time you fill a sippy cup, fix a meal, rock a baby, read a story, take your kiddo to rehearsal, help with homework, bandage a boo boo, or meet any of their million and one needs.

So hear me, sweet mamas—laying down our lives is no easy task! It brings us face-to-face with the selfish parts of our own hearts, as well as our inner toddler because—let’s just all admit—we each have one. She may not stomp her feet and throw herself on the ground, but she sure wants to.

Today, offer yourself lots and lots of grace. Maybe you’re in a tough season where that baseline frustration and anger just simmers under the surface, bringing with it a heaping side of shame. But instead of allowing that shame to compound your frustration, try staring it straight in the face—it’s trying to tell you something.

If you’re willing, your anger can be a tool that reveals where your heart is most needing Jesus. Perhaps you can steal away for a few minutes and ask yourself these questions:

Am I lacking margin in a particular area? The old airplane metaphor is a tired one, but it rings true: you must put on your oxygen mask before you can help others. As moms, we may not have the time we’d like to invest in self-care and the things that fill our tanks, but it’s so important to create a little breathing room.

It may appear loving to entirely neglect yourself on behalf of your children … until the wheels come falling off because you’re entirely exhausted. Look for pockets of time you can use to practice not only self-care, but also soul-care by spending time in the Word and allowing God’s truth to cover your heart.

Am I believing lies about myself or my role as a mom? We’re often led to believe that motherhood is “the thing” that will fulfill us … and when it doesn’t (because it can’t!), it’s no wonder we’re left feeling irritable and disappointed.

Similarly, when we buy the lie that our work is less valuable because it’s largely unseen, we’re left wallowing in an ugly futility that paves the way to anger and frustration. Our enemy is so tricky in the lies he presents as truth, it’s no wonder we’re admonished to be alert and aware of his schemes (see 1 Peter 5:8) and to take captive our every thought (see 2 Corinthians 10:5).

Am I letting my inner toddler run the show? The truth is, sometimes we’re just battling our own selfish desires. I think of how often I talk with my children about learning to cope when they don’t get their way—and yet this is a skill I too am learning to embody. Thankfully, Jesus is greater than our fragile, fallible hearts (see 1 John 3:20), and He alone can provide the strength we need to walk through motherhood with patience and grace.

So today, stop and take a deep, slow breath. Remember that you are human, and it’s okay to feel angry. Reject the enemy’s anchor of shame, and let that anger help lead you out of the “ick” and into a deeper, sweeter fellowship with Jesus.

With Blessings & Solidarity,

~Meredith

“You, Lord, are all I have, and you give me all I need; my future is in your hands. How wonderful are your gifts to me; how good they are!”

Psalm 16:5-6

Waiting to Arrive

Hello there, readers! It might be mid-February, but since this is my first post of the new year, let me wish you a Happy New Year anyway. How are those resolutions coming?

Clearly, my writing resolutions aren’t going according to plan.

In spite of the abysmal statistics surrounding resolutions, if you’re like me, you still love goal setting and planning. If you’re like a lot of other people, your eyes instinctively roll at the thought of a resolution.

But whatever camp in which you find yourself, I believe every one of us dreams of a better future—of arriving in a better spot this time next year. Perhaps you, like me, have been dreaming up resolutions long before you were ever impressed to make (and break!) them.

When I was a little girl, I dreamt of becoming a famous, wildly successful professional tennis player. With the likes of Andre Agassi and Jennifer Capriati plastered to my bedroom walls, I’d drift off to sleep with dreamy thoughts of winning, crushing my opponent, and—most importantly—obtaining a lasting sense of accomplishment and purpose.

Through the years, the “dream scenario” has changed—but whatever the dream, whatever the decade, the final outcome remained the same: me, living with a steadfast sense of peace, purpose, and what can only be described as a “soul ahhh.” I’m standing somewhere picturesque with a fictitious wind machine perfectly blowing my hair as my soul whispers, I have arrived.

This sounds silly, I know, but perhaps you can relate?

Maybe you thought if you just scored that perfect job, you’d feel at peace. Or if you could just get married, then your world would settle. Or if you could just fit into those “size whatever” jeans, then your soul could be at ease. At that point, the wind machine would only be a bonus.

In most recent years, I confess this is precisely how I thought about motherhood. I listened, dreamy-eyed, to the mythical description of a “love like no other,” and the deep sense of purpose and belonging I heard mothers speak of, and I couldn’t help but think now that I am a mother, I have arrived.

Well, in the words of Dwight Schrute, false.

Motherhood is indeed a high and holy calling. And it is indeed full of a love like no other. But it is not the thing that ultimately has or will or can satisfy my hungry, longing soul.

We can resolve and plan to our heart’s delight, but there is no earthly person, place, or thing that will ultimately satisfy our resolution-hungry souls.

There is no mythical place in which we can “arrive” and finally find the peace and purpose for which we’re longing.

Perhaps on the surface, this sounds disappointing; and yet, it’s excellent news for each of us, because the truth is, we don’t have to wait to arrive, because we have already arrived!

Our Creator God knew from the start there existed no earthly achievement big enough to fill the ache in our hearts, so He sent us Jesus. Because of what Christ has done for us, we don’t have to wait to experience a “soul ahhh.” Because of Jesus, we are promised abundant, full life right now (see John 10:10).

Today.

You don’t have to wait until you’ve lost 15 pounds, found the perfect job, married the perfect partner, had the perfect children, or built the perfect home.

In Christ, we have everything we need right now:

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things, at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work (2 Corinthians 9:8 NIV, emphasis added).

What an incredible promise. How often do we think we can “abound in every good work” only once certain external goals have been achieved? Or how often do we delay the good work we could be doing now in the hopes of first becoming some utopian version of ourselves?

You and I can begin living out the promise of 2 Corinthians 9:8 today.

You don’t have to abandon that resolution or those goals you’ve set—but you don’t have to wait until they are fulfilled before living a life of abundance, peace, and purpose.

So dear one, what are you waiting for? This year, let your resolution-driven soul be the thing that drives you closer to your Heavenly Father and the rich, abundant life available in Him.

For Those With a Heavy Heart This Mother’s Day

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

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,

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