The Family Table and Longing for Home

Family friends recently celebrated their youngest son's birthday. To create a cozy atmosphere for his fall birthday they prepared their family table by lighting candles in pretty green and red globe holders, as well as candles lovingly crafted by their children in unique autumn leaf holders.

Unexpectedly, one of the beautiful leaf holders caught on fire, consumed the hand-crafted candle, and charred the surface of their table. Gratefully, no one was hurt, and they were able to quickly extinguish the flames, but they were, understandably, sad that their family table was now blemished. My dear friend texted me to share the incident, and I immediately thought of our own family table that was also permanently blemished.

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We purchased our family table when our oldest daughter was six months old, eighteen years ago. Our new table was stored in my grandparents' garage while we lived with them waiting for our house to be built. On June 1, 1997 we moved into our home and used our family table for the very first time. One year later, our family table took the first of several journeys across the miles to another new home in Pennsylvania. During our two year stay in Pennsylvania, we received the phone call you are CERTAIN you will never get. Hearing the news of his mother's tragic death on the other end of the telephone line, our family table fractured under the weight of IronMan's anguish-filled fist. Cracked. Blemished. Forever.

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OUR FAMILY TABLE HAS HELD US WHILE WE'VE WEPT OVER OUR DEEPEST SORROWS.

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WE'VE ALSO EXPERIENCED OUR GREATEST JOYS AROUND IT.

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It's been a gathering place for each new little one that has joined our family. As they grew, all four of them found their own special place of belonging around the table. My kids have learned to read and write around our table. We've painted, colored, drawn, sewn, assembled puzzles, built Lego creations, clay creations, and craft creations. We've made play-doh cookies and Christmas sugar cookies. We've played Checkers, Uno, Parcheesi, Canasta, Chutes and Ladders, Connect Four, Monopoly, and Candy Land (a thousand and one times). We've rolled out pie crusts, assembled lasagna, and mixed up banana bread batter.

It's held our Thanksgiving gatherings, our Christmas celebrations, our family Valentine's parties...

...and it's marked the quickly passing years with each birthday.

The dearest hearts and dearest of friends have gathered around our family table.

That God-bless-it table has even held stacks and stacks and stacks of folded laundry waiting to be put away.

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OUR FAMILY TABLE HAS BEEN THE GATHERING PLACE FOR THE COMMONPLACE. 

BREAKFAST. 

LUNCH. 

DINNER. 

AND MOST THINGS IN BETWEEN. 

THROUGH THE YEARS, THE MEMORIES COLLECTED AROUND OUR RAGGED TABLE NO LONGER SEEM ORDINARY BUT EXTRAORDINARY. 

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Our table has journeyed many miles and resided in several states: Indiana, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Michigan, and then back to Colorado. It's moved with us, so far, a total of 4,445 miles.

FOUR THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED FORTY-FIVE MILES!

Our precious family table has been in Colorado storage for 39 months; 169 weeks; 3 years 2 months and 26 days; 1,183 days waiting for its (hopefully) FOREVER HOME.

ONE THOUSAND, ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-THREE DAYS.  Sigh.

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WHILE OUR FAMILY TABLE HAS BEEN IN STORAGE, WE HAVE BEEN IN WAITING.

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Our family table tells a story, and I feel like our story has been on hold. But time doesn't really pause for us to take a much needed breath, does it? Especially, with kids.

THE CLOCK TICKS ON, AND WHETHER WE ARE LIVING IN AN IDEAL SITUATION OR NOT, WE HAVE TO MAKE THE BEST OF IT, AND MAKE THE BEST MEMORIES THAT WE CAN LIVING WITHIN THOSE CIRCUMSTANCES.

 ...even without our beloved table.

When we first moved to Colorado to live with my parents, we needed to rest. We needed a break to heal from twenty hard years of ministry. My parents, very generously, invited us to come and live with them. They have been a place to land more than once over the past twenty (plus) years. We will forever be grateful for their goodness to us. Missing our family table and what it represents is not a reflection on the memories made with my parents these past years (which are priceless), but my parents' house is not ours. It has been a resting place.

WHEN YOU'VE DESPERATELY NEEDED REST, AND YOU HAVE GOTTEN REST, YOU ALSO KNOW WHEN THAT REST TIME IS DRAWING TO A CLOSE. 

We have been displaced, but it's time for us to find our place again. It's time to begin again. We are longing for home.

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HOME...

Webster defines homeless as having no home or permanent place of residence.

This is something I've been thinking a lot about lately. I do think Webster is correct, but I also think being homeless has to do with belonging and purpose. It's so much more than not having a house or residence. We aren't where we belong just yet, so in a sense, we are homeless. Home also has to do with roots.

ROOTS...

Google defines roots as the part of a plant that attaches it to the ground or to a support...conveying water and nourishment to the rest of the plant.

Think of this in the aspect of home. Home is your place of belonging, but it's also the place from which you will be nourished as well as nourish. Home will be your support system. Home and roots go hand in hand. If your roots don't have a place to reside, they won't function to their fullest potential of nourishing.

Missing our family table has given me an opportunity to put into words this pining that we feel.  We long for our family table to, once again, collect the memories that tells the story of who we are as a family. Our table needs a house, and we need a home. Together, those two things will form our roots so we can be nourished and, in turn, we can nourish others.

I can say from the deepest part of my being that I believe our rest time will soon be over, and the deepest of our longings, for HOME, will be fulfilled. For our family, the biggest part of home for us is ministry. We are ready. We are ready for our blemished, ragged, imperfectly perfect, precious family table to come out of storage and find its place as the hub and life-filled center of our home, and we are ready to share that with others.
 

 We patiently wait, hope, trust, and believe that it will be sooner than later.

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Thanksgiving is just a few days away and, undoubtedly, most of you will be gathering around a table, perhaps even your own family table. This year, we will gather around my parents' table, and we will say thanks for the gifts we do have, which are many. If you are truly HOME, please don't take it for granted. Thank God for your roots, your belonging, your purpose, your house, your family. If you aren't quite yet home this year, hold on, dear heart. HOME may be just around the corner. There is always, always something to be grateful for. Always. I pray you will be able to see the gifts in front of you, and as you are, we are trusting God for the time when it might be just a bit different than it is right now. I truly believe that it's going to be BEAUTIFUL.

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Always grace,

Mountains, Mulberry Trees, and Mustard Seeds... Thoughts on Faith

"'You don't have enough faith,' Jesus told them. 'I tell you the truth, if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it would move. Nothing would be impossible.'" (Matthew 17:20)

"The apostles said to the Lord, 'Show us how to increase our faith.' The Lord answered, 'If you have faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'May you be uprooted and thrown into the sea,' and it would obey you!'" (Luke 17:5-6)


In these two verses, Jesus is asked by His followers how to increase, or have more faith. I find Jesus' reply intriguing. He tells them in both accounts, "If you had faith EVEN as small as a mustard seed..."

What strikes me is that the faith they had right then and there, right beside Jesus himself, must have been less than mustard seed sized faith, or Jesus wouldn't have said what He did.

"IF YOU HAD FAITH EVEN AS SMALL AS A MUSTARD SEED..."

A MUSTARD SEED!!

A tiny, miniscule, can-barely-see-it mustard seed...

AND THEY HAD LESS FAITH THAN THAT...

How do you walk and talk with Jesus, follow Him in flesh and blood, how do you hear His voice and feel His touch, experience His tenderness, His mercies, His miracles right there in front of you, and have less faith than a mustard seed?

I'm certain that I know how, and it's simple, really.

THEY WERE HUMAN.

Here you and I are, sort of on the other side of things. We don't have the benefit of being present with Jesus in the flesh. Jesus' followers struggled with faith, and they were right there with Him, and for good measure, let's throw in the fact that we are human, too. I don't know about you, but I want to have faith. I want it to live and breathe and carry me. I want it to seep from my soul. I don't want it to be rattled and shaken.

The truth is, though, sometimes life batters us to bits. Sometimes we feel crushed under the weight that life can be, and sometimes it's hard to hold onto faith at all. So how do you... and how do I... have faith AT LEAST the size of a mustard seed?

HOW??

Did you notice what the two verses also say?

IF...

If you have mustard seed sized faith, then you could say to a mulberry tree, "Be uprooted and thrown into the sea," and it would obey you, and you could tell the mountain to move from here to there and it would. If you have mustard seed sized faith, nothing would be impossible.

NOTHING WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE!!

Do I think we'll be able to uproot a real mulberry tree simply by telling it to
throw itself into the sea? Do I think we'll be able to move a real mountain from one place to another?

NO.

But what are the mulberry trees in your life that need uprooted and tossed away? What are the mountains in your life that need to be moved? The thing about mountains, especially, is that they are usually an entire range. Sure there's Everest and Kilimanjaro, McKinley and Fuji, but mountains are connected to one another: Andes, Rockies, Appalachians, Himalayas. One singular mountain could scarcely move without taking a portion of the next mountain or part of the range with it, so I think of the mountains that need moved more like intertwined circumstances. What are your mulberry trees and mountains, and what is hard in your life right now?

HOW'S YOUR FAITH, FRIEND?

That brings us back to the apparently elusive mustard seed, doesn't it? Sigh. When we are rattled to the core, how do we have faith when everything around us feels faithless or impossible?

"...let us strip off every weight that slows us down...that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance...We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus... who initiates and perfects our faith." (Hebrews 12:1-2)

THERE IT IS.

Strip away things that are slowing us down and keep going, even if it's just one baby step at a time.  

DO NOT GIVE UP!

JESUS IS THE ONE WHO INITIATES OUR FAITH. 

JESUS IS THE ONE WHO PERFECTS OUR FAITH. 

This is freeing, because it's not about us; it's about Him. It is Jesus who stirs faith in us from the start. The apostles were right there in the midst experiencing Jesus, and somehow their eyes must have shifted from Him. Again, they were human. I truly believe that experiencing God is what sparks our faith, and we have to choose to keep our eyes on Him, and we have to choose to keep going.

A real experience = the beginning of faith, and GOD is the one who does it. WE choose to stay on the path while He forges faith in us along the way.

Soooo... that mustard seed sized faith and those seemingly impossible mulberry trees and mountain ranges?

I'M FINDING IN THE MIDST OF HARD LIFE THAT THE IMPOSSIBLE BECOMING POSSIBLE IS NOT SO MUCH THAT MY CIRCUMSTANCE HAS CHANGED, BUT THE FACT THAT I KNOW AND BELIEVE I AM BEING CARRIED THROUGH IT. 

FAITH.

IT IS JESUS WHO SPARKS AND ALSO KEEPS MY FAITH, AND I AM FINDING ON THIS JOURNEY THAT THE MOUNTAINS THAT GET MOVED ARE USUALLY THE ONES INSIDE OF ME.

TRUTH.

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I'm not going to lie. Today marks the three year anniversary of our family leaving Michigan. We, honestly, thought then that we were stepping into the Jordan River and entering the promised land. It turns out that we were only leaving Egypt for the desert. Sigh. We never dreamed that we would be in our forties with four kids, and living with parents. Double sigh. The longing for home is a deep ache, that at times, feels like a crushing weight. We've been on a roller-coaster with IronMan's job the last three years, as well. But we are still here. God has given us just enough to stay on this path following after Him. These days, I am trying to muster up enough belief that the promised land might just be ahead still. We have hope in the midst of the hard, even if we are scratching our way to it. On the roughest of days, my heart's cry is this:

"I DO BELIEVE, BUT HELP ME OVERCOME MY UNBELIEF!" 

My friend, you are not alone. Keep your eyes on Jesus. Don't give up. We will get through this, and the mountains are going to move. I can feel it in my soul bones.


All is grace,

Let Him Love You

You are remarkable.

You are amazing.

You are loved.

You are loved.

You are loved.

You are the apple of His eye, and He adores you.

GOD. ADORES. YOU.

Did you hear? God adores you, and you are HIS BELOVED.

PRECIOUS. 

TREASURE.

DARLING.

PRIZED.

CHERISHED.

DEAR. 

YOU.

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Is it difficult for you to believe in His love for you? His fondness? His affection?

YOU MAY THINK GOD'S LOVE IS BLACK AND WHITE, AND YOU ARE ENSNARED IN THE BLACK OF IT FAR MORE THAN THE WHITE... BUT IT ISN'T TRUE... IT ISN'T.

I know what you're probably doing right now, because I do it, too. That running list. YOU KNOW. The list of all the horrible {and not-so-horrible} things you've ever thought or done. Those unspeakable things that have been done to you that rattled you to the core...that still rattle you to the core. The endless scroll that continues to grow and grow...

YOU REMEMBER...

You know that time where you were stuck in the sludge of sin and you couldn't break free. Sin is like that. It's a poisonous cloud that shrouds the truth. Sometimes you break free. Sometimes you don't.

Remember the malicious words spoken to you and over you, all the teasing and mistreatment... the downright abuse. Those words were meant to leave you wounded, feeling worthless, less than. INADEQUATE. And they did. Words, vicious and seething, cut to the soul of who you are. Physical wounds heal, but gaping soul wounds caused by word weapons don't ever really heal, do they?

Maybe you were violated, and your innocence was stolen? Maybe you've been abandoned? Maybe you've been betrayed? Perhaps YOU ARE the violator, the abandoner, the betrayer?

PERHAPS YOU LACK...

Self-respect. Self-esteem. Courage. Empathy. Sympathy. Grace. Truth. Kindness. Trust. Integrity.

INTEGRITY is a secret thing sometimes, isn't it? Only you know what really goes on in your heart. Only you really know who you are and who others perceive you to be, and how different those are from each other.

YOU, the " BLACK SHEEP" and YOU, the "SECRET BLACK SHEEP"... Only you know where you've been, what you've done, what you've thought, and how you've truly lived.

Wine. Booze. Drugs. Food. What's your vice? Sex. Too much. Too little. Too soon. Pornography. Control. PRIDE. Adultery. Slander. Gossip. Anger. Aggression. GREED. Arrogance. Hate. Fear. Malice. Manipulation. Abortion. Indifference. Entitlement.

Wandering eyes. Venomous tongue. Ragged heart. Battered soul. Grief-stricken. Sorrow-filled. Devastated.

FAILURE. Failed relationships, failed marriages, failed friendships, failed jobs, failed finances, failed projects, failed goals, failed parenting.

OHHH THIS LIST... 

This ugly list goes on and on and on and on... BUT these things. These things have a way of haunting us, don't they?  SIGH. Who are you, and where are you among these chains?

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Is your soul heart-sick over religion? Has your image of God gotten muddied by the church...by misguided Christians? BUT religion isn't really God is it? Church really isn't God. Christians are not God.

I'M TALKING TO JUST YOU... ABOUT JUST GOD.

If you think He is sitting behind a judge's bench waiting to slam down the gavel and write it in the books every time you mess up, you are wrong.

It seems we are certain that this messy list will hold us to account and nail us down. Some things you've chosen, some things you haven't, but it's all part of that running list that builds a wall brick-by-brick between us and God. The fatality of this list is not that we have been wounded or that we have failed, the fatality is that it has the power to keep you from the very thing that will free you from it... THE LOVE OF GOD.

You are blemished. Yes.

You are broken. Yes. 

YOU HAVE FAILED. YOU ARE FLAWED. YOU ARE IMPERFECT. YOU ARE FRAYED, AND YOU ALWAYS, ALWAYS WILL BE.

God knows this.

The truth is, sometimes it's easier to justify WHY we are unlovable to God, than to ACTUALLY BELIEVE, deep in the marrow of our soul, THAT HE DOES LOVE US, chooses us, is tender towards us, adores us, LIKES us.

Right now He doesn't care where you've been or where you're going. He was there then, and He's already ahead of where you are now. Right now what He cares about is you... in this moment...

IN THIS MOMENT, THE ONLY THING HE WANTS IS FOR YOU TO COME...

COME TO HIM AND...

LET HIM LOVE YOU.

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"The KINDNESS of God leads you to repentance." (Romans 2:4)

"He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west." (Psalm 103:12)

"I am convinced that NOTHING CAN EVER SEPARATE US FROM GOD'S LOVE. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39)

"The Lord is merciful and compassionate, slow to get angry and filled with UNFAILING LOVE." (Psalm 145:8)

"Keep me as the apple of your eye..." (Psalm 17:8)


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You are remarkable.

You are amazing.

You are loved.

You are loved.

You are loved.

You are the apple of His eye, and He adores you.

GOD. ADORES. YOU.

Did you hear? God adores you, and you are HIS BELOVED.

PRECIOUS. 

TREASURE.

DARLING.

PRIZED.

CHERISHED.

DEAR. 

YOU.


LET HIM LOVE YOU...

LET HIM LOVE YOU...

LET HIM LOVE YOU...

 
Because He does.


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 All is grace,

A ButterflyTale

Butterflies have long been a symbol of freedom to me. I don't think this is necessarily a unique position or feeling, but I know how special it is to me when I see a butterfly. During two of the darkest times of my life, God, in a way I can't fully explain in this space today, miraculously connected the image of the butterfly to how I am rescued, how He can make something beautiful out of darkness, and how He ultimately freed me from so many chains of my broken-girl past. When I see a butterfly, I am reminded that I am loved, I am FREE, I am cherished, I am adored, I am God's beloved who cared enough ABOUT ME to bust open the cocoon surrounding me, cared enough to give me wings, and to show me that I could...WOULD fly.  

BUT...life is life, and sometimes life can jolt us to the core.

Sometimes, this very human girl, despite the truth, feels a million miles away from feeling FREE, and a million miles away from that TRUTH.

Roughly a year ago, I was in that place of "sometimes." God was silent, and had seemed virtually silent for months. I kept pressing in, praying, seeking, pleading, and trying to trust Him anyway. My faith was stretching, almost to the point of breaking. My heart was struggling with the desire to hear from God... to hear something... anything... a whisper, nudge, or shout... some kind of "kiss" from Him to remind me that I was still His beloved, I was still in His heart, and that He heard my soul-song cry out to Him.

It was evening, and I was in the housewares aisle in Walmart (of all places) slowly pushing my grocery cart between the Keurig coffee makers and springy colored bath towels. I was in a reflective mood, praying under my breath, talking to God and pouring out my sorrows and frustrations, because that's what I usually do when I'm alone in a store. Don't judge. {wink...wink}

Mid-crying-out, I looked up and saw something flit back and forth against the backdrop of the store's fluorescent lights. I squinted to try to make out what it was. I thought it was a leaf or crumpled piece of paper. My eyes were locked on the strange movement. Was there a fan blowing this thing around? I didn't feel a breeze of any kind. The oddness of it had me mesmerized. This thing, whatever it was, was getting closer to where I was standing, and as it passed the cross aisle right in front of me, I saw that it was a BUTTERFLY.

A BUTTERFLY...

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL MONARCH BUTTERFLY, FLYING AROUND *INSIDE* WALMART! 

It was the VERY FIRST butterfly that I saw last year. It quickly passed in front of me and out of sight. Gone. I kept thinking how amazing it was that I just saw a butterfly fly in front of me. 

INSIDE WALMART...

 I was in a bit of disbelief, and I had the thought that I REALLY WISHED it would have flown right to me... down the aisle I was in. Maybe I was searching for an undeniable something or other? Maybe I just wanted irrefutable affirmation that God was looking down on this ragamuffin girl and giving her a "kiss." I'm sure I could win awards for the doubt I experience at times.

No sooner than I was caught up and nearly swept away in my own skepticism...

THE BUTTERFLY CAME BACK!

It darted back and forth and up and down, turned the corner, and flew right up to me.

RIGHT UP TO ME...

For a second, I thought the Monarch was going to land on my shoulder. Time slowed, and as the beautiful amber wings folded closed and then opened again, it sailed over my head, and lifted God's silence. My doubt was obliterated.

God's TRUTH again flooded and tears streamed down my cheeks.

I am God's BELOVED who cared enough ABOUT ME to send a butterfly to me in the middle of Walmart between the coffee and bath towels.

I am God's BELOVED who cares enough ABOUT YOU to tell you that...


HE ADORES YOU.

YOU ARE CHERISHED.

HE CARES.

YOU ARE DESIRED.

HE'S NUTS ABOUT YOU!

YOU MATTER.

YOU ARE SEEN.

YOU ARE LOVED. 

YOU BELONG.

YOU ARE BELOVED. 

For some reason, God brought you to this blog today. It may not be a butterfly in Walmart, but He brought you HERE to this ragamuffin little corner of the internet. Let His TRUTH wash over you today, BELOVED OF GOD. 

TRUTH...

All is grace...always grace,

Seek, Trust, Hope, Believe

"Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." (Matthew 6:33 ESV)


"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths." (Proverbs 3:5-6 ESV)


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SEEK.

TRUST.

These two words, to me, sum up the crux of faith and following Jesus. Nine little letters comprise these two small words, yet there's nothing about practicing these small words that's easy, simple, or smooth.

Seeking is HARD. Trusting is HARD.

When you seek and trust God, what you're really saying is...

I KNOW I DON'T HAVE THE ANSWERS.

SHOW ME WHAT TO DO, WHERE TO GO, WHO TO BE.

I CHOOSE TO DEPEND ON YOU, GOD.

LEAD ME.

I CHOOSE NOT TO LEAD MYSELF.

I KNOW IT'S *BEST* NOT TO LEAD MYSELF.

I BELIEVE YOU KNOW WHAT'S BEST FOR MY LIFE, GOD.

I PUT MY HOPE IN YOUR PERFECT ABILITY TO DECIDE FOR ME.

But what happens when you are walking through something really difficult? What happens when you have been praying and seeking and there seems to be no answer... no direction.  What happens when the bottom falls out? What happens when you are seeking, and God seems to be silent?

SILENT...

ABSOLUTELY SILENT...

Believe me, friends, I have been here. I don't share this from a place of words without first understanding the actual soul-bending that takes place. I have longed and ached and hurt in this place. This place of God-silence.

You may think NOTHING is happening, but I assure you, SOMETHING is happening.

SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL.

FAITH is forged and tested in the waiting, in the quiet, in the silence.

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"These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold-- though your faith is far more precious than mere gold." (1 Peter 1:7 NLT) 

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As you seek and trust God, your FAITH is growing and strengthening. As you seek and trust God, your faith is the SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL. 

As you seek and trust, as your faith is forged, HOPE is born.


*HOPE* IS BORN. 


SEEK... TRUST... HOPE... BELIEVE...


BELIEVE IT.

BELIEVE IT.

BELIEVE IT. 


IT'S MORE PRECIOUS THAN GOLD.

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Don't give up seeking. Don't give up trusting. Don't give up hoping. The answer may be just around the corner, and it may be more BEAUTIFUL than you ever imagined.


All is grace... maybe especially in the wait, my friends...

Yes, all is grace,

Washed in the Water

As Christians, we are in the midst of one of the most meaningful remembrances and celebrations of our faith... EASTER. Without the the truth and hope of Easter in our lives, our faith is pointless, hopeless, purposeless.

My heart is always moved by the story of Jesus gathering with his closest friends before His death. Around the table they ate and drank together, they relaxed, they talked...it would be the last time they would be in each others' presence before everything changed.

Judas, the betrayer, was in that room, too, masquerading among the disciples as one who truly loved Jesus, dipping bread in the bowl of intimacy before running off to turn Him in for the price of a slave, thirty pieces of silver.

But even before dipping the bread in the bowl, Jesus, The Son of God, The King of Kings, The Messiah, The Lord of Lords, The Light of the World, The Way, The Truth, and The Life, put a towel around his waist, bent down, and washed His betrayer's feet.

Instead of re-writing this account and how it has moved me, I want to re-share my reflections from two Easters ago. I still can't get those dirty feet out of my heart or mind... their dirty feet and mine, and how Jesus washes us all.

(Clicking on the title below will take you there)

DIRTY FEET AND A GRACE WASH...

Scribbling out the Lies

Several weeks ago, I had dinner with a dear sister-friend of mine. During the course of our evening and conversation, she gently pointed out how negative I was about myself.

I love her for knowing she was safe enough to be gut-level honest with me.

I love her for loving me enough not to let me stay in that place.

It's a delicate dance to take the risk to speak something hard into someone's life. Because she earnestly loves me, she earned the right to speak that truth in safety for both of us.

I love her for telling the truth.

I thought a lot about what she'd said...

BUT HOW DO YOU CHANGE SOMETHING THAT HAS BEEN INGRAINED IN YOU SINCE YOU WERE A LITTLE GIRL?

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I recently started writing something God has been stirring in my heart for a couple of years to write. Ironman bought me a special binder and an out-of-this-world-rockin' pen to get started. After many days of pen-to-paper, I finished the introduction. I gave my binder to Ironman to preview so he could tell me if he thought I was on the right track. I anticipated some sort of encouragement. Instead, he told me I was too hard on myself. I was repeatedly negative. It almost seemed as if I didn't believe in what I was writing.

OUCH.

THE TRUTH DOES, INDEED, HURT SOMETIMES... BUT, SOMETIMES, IT'S NECESSARY.

I let my binder sit quiet for a few weeks thinking about what Ironman said. Wasn't I just expressing humility? Wasn't I just making sure that anyone who might read my words would know that I didn't think I was something that I'm not?

AND HOW EXACTLY DO YOU WASH AWAY ALL THOSE LIES INGRAINED IN YOU SINCE YOU WERE A LITTLE GIRL?

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Last week, I picked up my binder again. I re-read my own introduction. Guess what I saw? Negativity. Not humility. {Sigh}

Being humble is not self-deprecating.

HOW DO YOU SILENCE THE LIES?

I'm sure that on some level I will always battle my upbringing and abuse, but it was time to let another layer peel back... to let another layer be exposed to heal.

LET IT HEAL.

I grabbed my slick new pen, and I began to cross off every single thing that was negative, self-doubting, insecure.

One single line through the words became swirls and scribbles of blocking out the negative... all of the negative...

As I marked off each less-than word, sentence, paragraph... something began to happen. I crossed away part of my past, and I began to believe the truth. 

I HAVE A VOICE.

God brought me here, HE asked me to write, and I have every right to do just that.

I HAVE NO REASON TO BE OR FEEL INSECURE.

My confidence is in HIS call to do this. My confidence is in HIS crazy-ridiculous-upside-down love for me.  

I MOST CERTAINLY DO BELIEVE IN WHAT I SHARE AND WHAT I WRITE. 

I don't know how to silence all the lies, but I do believe it begins with crossing off, ripping up, obliterating one negative voice, statement, face at a time.

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More than the words left among the scribbles, something deep took place in my heart. I gave my messy, scribbly introduction to Ironman to re-read. He finished, smiled and kissed me on the forehead. I knew it was a good beginning. A humble, truthful, GOOD beginning.


All is grace...always grace,

Dreams Do Come True

This week, something pretty exciting happened to me... this ragamuffin-nobody-small-town girl. I got to hold in my hands, for the very first time, a book which I am beyond proud to be part of. When the package arrived in the mail, it was almost surreal. Up until a little over three years ago,
I'D NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING... 
IN MY ENTIRE LIFE... 
EVER... and here I was kneeling down on the living room floor, peeling tape from a manila envelope that contained a book which held part of my heart and some of my words.

UNBELIEVABLE.

Being the book-lover that I am, I never dreamed I would be holding a book with my name or my story in print... published.

PUBLISHED.

I NEVER DREAMED...

The truth is, I don't think I could have dreamed this for myself. I never felt I was allowed to dream, let alone dream something this big.

I'd always hoped that somehow, some way, my story would be able to touch someone else with a similar story. I was completely alone for years. Until I was married, I had no one to talk to, no one to cry with, no one to listen. I carried my gaping wounds in silence. As I began to heal in my adulthood, I longed for a way, any way, to share my story so that it might help someone else. I did dream of helping other girls like me. I never dreamed that God would use a book as one of the avenues.

I NEVER DREAMED...

BUT GOD DID...

HE DREAMED THESE DREAMS FOR ME WHEN I COULDN'T DREAM AT ALL.

I am humbled, blessed, and amazed to be included with twenty-nine other women and their stories. Tamara Lunardo, editor, weaves her own personal story powerfully and flawlessly through the others creating a riveting, seamless account of gathered pieces.

WHAT A WOMAN IS WORTH is an important book with a vital message. There are heartbreaking stories and stories of redemption. There are stories of shame and stories of empowerment. If you are a woman and you struggle with your significance, your value, your role, this book might be for you. If you have been abused, misused, discarded, this book might be for you. If you struggle with insecurity, body image, self-worth, this book might be for you.

The stories are transparent, vivid, and strong.

THESE WOMEN LEFT THEIR SOULS ON THE PAGES, SO YOU COULD FIND HEALING IN YOURS.

I'm praying for the reach of this book, because its message is valuable and needed.

For this ragamuffin-nobody-small-town girl, having my story shared to reach others, soothe others, and introduce others to the reality that they are not alone brings added redemption to my own story. Telling my story for this purpose reminds me that...

DREAMS DO COME TRUE.


All is grace...always grace,











***********

 

What a Woman is Worth is available for purchase HERE.

Blessings, grace, and peace, dear ones.
 

Mad at the World

I've tried to write here innumerable times, but this place I'm in seems to be almost wordless.

I strive to share my heart as transparently as I can, and I got to thinking that maybe I SHOULD write from this desert place...this struggle place... this doubt place... this achy place...

Yes, maybe I should write from this being MAD AT THE WORLD place...

As a Jesus follower, it can sometimes feel like sin to feel joyless, and sacrilegious to feel doubt. It feels like defeat when you struggle and ache. Other Christians may even say and do things to make you feel as if you are failing for feeling that way. Yet, how can you help how you feel? How can you lift the blanket of darkness that covers? I make every effort to tell the truth here in this tiny corner of the blogosphere. I think it's valuable for my readers to know that I don't seek to fabricate an image. All I can do is be me. All I can do is be transparent.

RIGHT NOW, I'M MAD AT THE WORLD.


IT'S HONEST.

IT'S RAW.

IT'S REAL.


I might not be mad at the world tomorrow or the next day, or next month... but today I am. Yesterday I was. Last week I was. Last month I was, and instead of the anger and frustration lifting, it feels like the deeper I process it, the more difficult it becomes to let go of it and keep walking forward.

When faith and doubt war at each other like two outlaws gunning it out at high noon on a ghost town street, let's not give up in the middle of the battle even when it feels like it might be easier to run. Okay? I'm going to stand my ground, as fragile as it may seem, and keep TRUSTING. I'm not going to let doubt shoot me in the back while I run away in fear. I'm here telling you this today, because I want you to know that if it's hard right now, you are not alone.

It's fragile for a faith blogger to say she doesn't have very much faith right now, but I'm hanging on by a thin, thin thread, and I hope if you are struggling, you'll hang on, too.

I'M MAD AT THE WORLD...

And right now, it's okay.

YOU MIGHT BE MAD AT THE WORLD...

And that's okay, too.

KEEP HANGING IN THERE. 

KEEP TRUSTING.

It's okay to be in a hard place, a desert place, a sorrowful place, an ugly place. You are not alone, and with the fragments of faith that I can muster right now, and the tiny bits of faith that GOD stirs in me, I believe that the answer, the hope, the breath of fresh air, the life, the healing we are waiting for... 

IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER.

LET'S NOT GIVE UP TRUSTING.

LET'S HOLD FAST.

I KNOW I DON'T WANT TO MISS THE ANSWER. DO YOU?  

***********

"These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold-- though your faith is far more precious that mere gold..." (1 Peter 1:7 NLT)


All is grace...always grace,

p.s. I do want to interject this small thought about the wordless places we can sometimes be. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. Sometimes there truly are no words. Sometimes it can do more damage by forcing yourself to say things out loud before the layers are truly ready to be peeled back. Be kind to yourself. Let God's grace be kind to you, too. Peace, friends...