Why Time In the Word Is So Important

A few weeks ago I found out I had to say goodbye to the first child I thought it was realistically safe to expect to adopt. Sure the word adoption had been thrown out and around before, but this was more concrete. I thought I was going to get a front row seat to watch God transform this baby I didn't make, but whole heartedly loved as if I did, from broken, abused and unwanted to loved, treasured, and desperately hoped for. Fully expecting that one day he would be healed from the trauma he never deserved. Fortunately this sweet child is still going to get those things, it's just not going to be here with me like I had hoped for.

When all this went down I spiraled hard and fast. My feet were knocked out from under me and my breath was completely knocked out of me. I didn't know if I could get up again. If I would ever breathe again. Or even want to. Why go through the pain of taking in and loving a child who is utterly devastated and broken if they're just going to take that child away and not let me see it through to the other side?

I started to dream of running away. My husband has been on unemployment for far too long and the only offers he gets for work he declines because they would take us away from where we are now. If we leave here we would have to step away from fostering for at least a season. The temptation to quit foster care, to walk away from the trauma and the heartache of it all, has never been so strong in my life. We could take a job somewhere, anywhere, and our tiny core family of five could live the simple life. Traveling and chasing after jobs. Touring the country and soaking up life together. Away from all the bondage of foster care.

On top of the overwhelming desire to run away from foster care was the soul crushing searing pain of loss and grief and ultimately fear that gripped my heart and mind. Feelings of failure and mistakes. The what-ifs. Frantically trying to make the wrongs right and fix it somehow. Utterly helpless in fixing anything.

I was being tossed around in the waves of life. Hurricane level swells were leaving me broken and battered, deprived of the air I desperately needed to live. I wasn't alone in my grief. I had a life raft in the storm to cling to. My journal was filled with the whispers that God had been speaking to my heart. His words that spoke intimately to me in the quiet of my mornings. I knew I was drowning so I thumbed through my journal and reviewed the exact verses that God led me to find each day and what He whispered to me in a real and personal way ministered to me. These stories, these snippets that God spoke to me through. They were what kept me afloat. Kept my head above water.

For the past thirteen weeks this is some what God has been speaking to me.

In Genesis when Adam and Eve stood unashamedly naked before God, He whispered to me that I was His and He wanted me to stand exposed unashamedly just the way I am and allow others to see what He can do.

When Cain was angry and dejected because God did not accept the offering of some of his crops I was reminded that I needed to give God the first and the best of all that I had to offer.

When Noah was told to build a boat and fill it with all the living creatures I was mesmerized by the fact that Noah didn't go on a safari looking for all the animals he needed for his floating zoo. He just built the boat. God took care of the details and Noah didn't waste one iota of time worrying about things he had no control over.

When Noah sat in the boat for months patiently waiting for the earth to dry God reminded me there are seasons of waiting, times of growing and trusting.

When Job cried out to God in despair because he had lost everything including his children I was reminded that my life needed to be spent focusing on what truly matters. Not worldly things that are ultimately a waste.

When God spoke to Job from the whirlwind I realized I have tunnel vision and I am too consumed with myself.

When Job acknowledged God's complete authority I had to acknowledge it as well. God is able to be in complete control of all things and no one can stop God.

When the people tried to build the tower of Babel I realized my focus needed to be making God look good not me.

When God was assuring Abram that he would be protected and rewarded and didn't need to be afraid He was assuring me that He had my back in all things.

When God promised Abram a son and Sarai couldn't fathom how that could be she made a huge mess and God reminded me to wait on Him in all things and to never ever take things into my own hands.

When Lot was dragged to safety by angels I was reminded to lay down my idols of comfort and never grow weary of praying for the ones I love.

When Abraham made assumptions and acted out of fear I was reminded to trust God to move in all situations that have potential problems.

When God tested Abraham I was reminded to sacrifice myself for others.

When Rachel watered camels I was reminded to go above and beyond when serving others.

When Esau sold his birthright for soup I was reminded to never sacrifice something with eternal value for comfort today.

When Jacob slept and saw the spiritual realm around him I was reminded that God is here with me.

When Leah learned to praise God, even from a life as the unwanted and unloved wife, God reminded me to praise Him in all the things.

When God provided for Jacob he whispered He would provide for me as well.

When Esau forgave Jacob I was reminded to respond to hurts with love and forgiveness.

When God gave Joseph loyal love He whispered to me that I could trust His loyal love for me.

When Joseph gave God the credit I was reminded to do the same.

When there was famine and Jacob told his sons to get a move on and go buy some grain God whispered to me to stop standing frozen in fear.

When Judah took complete responsibility sacrificing himself for his little brother I was reminded to live out a life of self-sacrifice.

In the middle of the famine God spoke to me that just like the Egyptians completely sold all they had to Pharaoh all that I have and am is God's.

Jacob and Rachel and Leah taught me that broken places lead to God and the midwives in Egypt taught me to obey God not man.

Moses taught me to take it all to God. He alone knows all, understands all, and remembers all. I need to be patient and trust God with the big picture, to pay attention when God speaks, to find stability in Christ, to pray and seek God's presence when unable to see the way before me, to keep calm and let God handle it, and to cry out to God for help. That mercy is greater than wrath, and I should rely on the light of God's word. God sanctifies. God skilled me for a purpose. That a lack of Godly counsel and leadership leads to bad choices, if I want a sunnier disposition I need more time with God and above all else I need to pray constantly.

In Leviticus I learned to freely worship and rest in the Lord and what He has done, that it is all God. I am not able.

In Numbers God reminded me to not whine or complain, to trust him completely. To not tuck tail and run. To trust God in the scary places. That the dry and wretched places have a purpose.

In Deuteronomy God reminded me that he would see me through the great and terrible wilderness patches in my life. He would fight for me. He would sustain me. That it was my choice to choose life and blessings by choosing to hold close to Him. That He alone is my good life, my abundant life, and fulfillment.

In Joshua God reminded me that he doesn't call me to the simple easy life. He calls me to be steadfast and determined to the life that He has called me to. A life dead to self and completely surrendered to His kingdom. That the secret to prosperous successful life was in the Word. To not stress the long term and just trust God to get me through the day.

In Judges I had to acknowledge that my heart longs to worship idols. That my troubles were reminders to stop lusting after worthless idols and turn back to fully devoted to following the Lord. No matter what. No matter where. That doubts lead to making decisions based on human reckoning and no good comes of that. To not live selfishly or self indulgently because its not about me or what I want or what I think looks best. It's about giving all that I am to God. That ultimately God has a plan and a purpose and my shortcomings won't overthrow it.

In Ruth God whispered to be a Boaz. To provide protection, abundant provision and love to the people he has placed around me. To be a woman of excellence. Known to be loyal, kind, hardworking, and above all else open to instruction.

Thirteen weeks in the Old Testament full of lessons I needed to survive this unexpected storm that has swept me away. Much of what I needed to survive God gave to me before I ever even knew I would so desperately cling to it drowning in a deep dark place.

I'm fairly confident I'm not the only one who has been swept away by the storms of life. I promise if you're alive life will try to sweep you away as well. You need a life raft. And God wants to meet you in His word and help you build one. If you would like to know how to start. Check this out. As for me, I can't wait to dive in and see what God has for me today.

*As always when blogging about foster care details are obscured and fudged to protect the identities of the children. 

Beauty in the Broken Bits

When we last went to the beach my babies kept bringing me nets full of broken shell pieces. At first I was slowly, every so sneakily, discarding them. Then I stopped and looked at them.

The colors.

The lines.

The patterns.

Absolutely breathtaking despite all that is missing.

My tender broken areas center around the world of foster care and mothering in general right now. The millions of ways I fail every day. The kids I have failed. The kids the system failed. Red tape that hinders and holds us back. The overwhelming surge of need I can do precious little to help with. The brokenness of it all seems so utterly beyond hope.

The thing is you don't have to be involved in foster care to be broken.

To live is to live broken.

It is all so ridiculously hard and the waves keep knocking you down and pulling you under and before you know it you've completely shattered into a bazillion pieces and you know you'll never be whole again.

I have spent the last couple of weeks deep in Genesis mired down in the story of the life of Jacob (Israel) & his son Joseph. I have become captivated with the life of Leah. Leah was wed to Jacob when all he really wanted was her little sister. Her one week anniversary gift was quite literally a sister wife. She was left unwanted and unloved. Much later in their story. After Leah herself was long buried. Jacob was giving his son Joseph instructions on where he would be buried. Despite a life loving and doting on her little sister and eventually many long years mourning for her his final resting place was to be beside his unwanted, unloved wife. Thanks to the perspective we have so many years removed from their lives, we also know that despite her low status in the eyes of her husband, she gave birth to the son who was to carry on the royal line that would one day lead to Christ.

To be honest I wasn't really sure what God wanted to show me personally through the life of Leah but I was captivated by her. Imagining the pain she must have felt every single day of her life after her husband woke up in their marriage bed and realized she was not who he wanted. Poor Leah. What pain and anguish she must have lived with.

Imagining her broken heart I found a message of hope, perhaps even encouragement, to those who live broken. Through Leah's life of sorrow and immense pain the path to Christ was given.

Maybe our broken hurtful places are there for a purpose. That purpose is to point us to Christ. We can't possibly get to Him without the broken. That is the truly beautiful part. He endures the pain of allowing us to be broken, allows us the pain of being broken, because living through brokenness is the only way to Christ.

So many cry out in pain.

Unfair!

Why me? 

Living mired down in pain and sorrow.

The truth is, the pain, the broken bits, are the stones that pave the way to Christ. To being whole and radiantly complete.

We can't get there without first being broken. If we weren't broken. We wouldn't need Him. 

What in life is breaking you to pieces right now? Will you pray and ask God to help you see the beauty and redemption in your brokenness? What are your beautiful bits?

Mine are the successes and triumphs of the ones I once failed. The warm squishy lump in my lap ever so slowly learning to trust in my Momma's love despite all the reasons she is justified in never trusting  again. The child who presses her body into mine; so desperate for love and attention it seems as if she is literally trying to fuse our two bodies into one. It is the child who is succeeding where there was once failure and no will to even try any longer. It is the laughter and the shrieks of joy despite the pain that has been endured. It is above all else my broken places, where God's love shines through, in spite of me. It is all around me. In the very fabric of our noisy, messy, broken lives.

Will you follow the broken path to find your own way to Christ?

He alone can make you whole.

Yes,

you are broken.

But you are so very beautiful... 

and you fit into His masterpiece.

Just let Him in.

Gardening with God

My front flower beds are a mess. There are some pretty things that are supposed to be, but mostly there is just weeds. 

It just so happens I was reading Mathew 13 and the parable of the sower this morning. I prayed and thanked God that His word had found good soil in my heart and asked Him to lead me to good soil to share His word with.

Now I've spent the morning digging in my flower beds. Letting the word seep deep into my heart. I've wrestled with grass and weeds and worms. I'm muddy and dirty and gritty and hot and sweaty and I'm realizing I'm not the good soil I thought I was.  "Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them," keeps playing on repeat through my mind. It's a verse that got caught in my throat like an annoying chicken bone. Some scripture just isn't easy to swallow!!

The side of my house has a very big, very overgrown, rose bush. It is quite honestly an eyes sore, nothing more than a tangled mess of thorns. I've come to realize this bush represents my life much more accurately than the bag of rich potting soil full of miracle grow.

I've had a lot {a lot!} going on and some of these things are good and beautiful things in my life. They produce, from time to time, exquisite roses that bring pleasure and beauty and enjoyment to my life. Unfortunately, they  come attached to a big thorny mess of time and effort and obligations that are choking out the other beautiful blooms in the garden of my heart.

Even as a stay-at-home, work-from-home, homeschooling Momma committed 100% to my children and family and the role God has for me in these places I let my most prized flowers, { my relationship with God, my husband, and my precious children } get neglected and choked out by the thorns. In need of watering, fertilizing and space to grow and bloom.

While a rose bush is ok to have, it must be diligently, frequently, {even mercilessly} pruned to keep it from growing wildly out of control!

I'm working hard to pinpoint the over grown rose bushes in my life. Some are easy to trim back. {Laundry, oh yes!, prune that baby back to practically nothing.  Everything else is donated and my time and garden space is way less thorny!}

Other's... not so much! {Cutting back my photography to only personal photo's was WAY harder!} Fortunately, God is oh so faithful and once I took the first step and said 'no,' to my selfish desires and 'yes' to what God was asking of me He completely restored my heart. I have no desire whatsoever to be a "professional" photographer any longer. Funny how God gives the necessary peace to do exactly whatever it is He is calling you to once you step out in faith with that first tiny baby step! 

Gardening. It is hard, grueling, stinky, work. Whether in literal flower beds out front or the figurative ones that comprise my day to day life, and my inner heart. Thankfully, it is oh so worth the effort when the result is a pretty space where flowers bloom and weeds are easily spotted and plucked out. 

My Mini Me

It was a long day.

It was supposed to be fun. 

We were at the park after all.

Unfortunately sometimes having foster brothers sucks the fun out of going to the park.

Sometimes they are mean and they pick at you.

No matter how hard you try they refuse to accept you.

Before you know it they've eaten away at the fun and all you have left is a scowl stretching across your face and a heart that is heavy and dark sunken eyes that can't see the beauty and fun because they are fixated on what is wrong.

I urge her to be better.

It bother's me to see her struggle with this.

I tell her not to let anyone else rob her of her happy.

Don't let them steal your joy. Ignore them.  Forgive them. Love them anyway. Enjoy yourself.

It all falls on deaf ears.

It's much easier to soak in misery and fixate on the pain than it is to shrug it all off and love anyway.

It hurts this Momma's heart.

I want her to be better.

Better than her messed up Momma.

Deep down I know that if I am going to see her claim victory in this arena.

I am going to have to find victory in it. 

It would be SO much easier to cling to my sin and harp on her to fix hers.

Instead, I've got to get down and dirty and focus on ME.

But I can't fix me.

I've tried and I've failed.

I'm miserable and so broken and so very unfixable.

If you could be better by trying I'd be perfect.

You can't and I'm not.

Instead I am going to focus my time on the Word of God, and snuggling up to who HE is.

Only then will I be able to reflect Him.

Only then will I be able to help her.

For right now I am the one she mirrors after all.

More than anything I want her to mirror a reflection of Him. 

So I have to teach her how.

So I quit trying to fix her.

I quit trying to fix me.

I snuggle up to Him.

He's the only hope either of us has.

Counting Calories

Pretty much every girl I have ever met thinks she is fat and wants to loose weight. It seems that, as a lady, you simply can't be skinny enough. Even my Mother (who barely weights 100 pounds sopping wet, and is way beyond her vain teen years) will pinch the skin on her belly and proclaim, "I NEED to loose just five more pounds!" Drives me absolutely batty! Especially since I am carrying around an extra fifty pounds I quite frankly can't blame on my three year old 'baby' any longer. Now that is something to be concerned about!

Everywhere you turn you can hear or read about some sort of diet or weight loss strategy. The way I see it, it only comes down to one thing. It's simply a matter of calories in vs. calories out. With a new baby growing I definitely don't want any more extra pounds to carry around for the rest of my life, so I did some research to figure out exactly how many calories my body (and baby) need. As a result I started the grueling process of counting each and every calorie I ate. As a side note: I now completely understand why I am so fat, the amount of calories in a small amount of food is utterly ridiculous!!

The funny thing about my endeavors in weight loss is that counting calories has taught me a spiritual lesson. Every morning when I wake up and get on my phone I see a beautiful phrase.. "0 calories today." A constant reminder that my success today is completely independent of my successes or failures of yesterday. Isn't that true in our spiritual life as well!?!

Just because I had an hour long quite time yesterday, spent time explaining the trinity on a pre-school level, and managed to get through the day with nothing short of loving soft spoken words to everyone I encountered. { The equivalent of a perfect low calorie day!} doesn't mean I get a free pass for today.

Nor does yesterday's forgotten quite time, the fight with my husband, and non-stop yelling at my children {the equivalent of consuming the entire days calories before noon} mean that today is hopeless.

Every morning I get a clean slate.

Every

Single

Morning

No

Matter

What!

Obviously I have to deal with the consequences of yesterday's sins {just as I have to work out harder or longer to offset extra calories} but I don't have to let those sins inhibit me today.

Is there anything more refreshing?

If you are struggling in your Christian walk and find yourself discouraged often I want to encourage you. Life as a Christian is an uphill battle. If you aren't struggling you aren't trying! When I first started counting calories I was hungry all the time and down right miserable; but, I stuck with it and over time my body adjusted. I am no longer constantly hungry and it is somewhat easier to forgo calories I don't need. Likewise, if you stick with your faith through the tough days, keep reading your Bible and keep talking to God and keep going to church {No.Matter.What} you'll eventually reach a point where it gets easier. Don't be fooled it won't ever be easy. Just like I still crave anything big and chocolate you will be attacked and bombarded with temptations by the enemy in your spiritual life.

Just remember... if the enemy is attacking you're doing something right because if you weren't effective he'd leave you alone!

So share with me, can you draw any parallels between your adventures in healthy eating and your spiritual life?

bittersweet

My husband and I are blessed to be given a season in our life right now where we are able to be at our home church. I must say, it's good to be home!

Home to the church where I I finally connected to the God who created me and pursued me. Where I finally accepted His gift of salvation. Where I stood and announced to the world my commitment to live for Him. Where I was baptized. Where I learned and grew in my knowledge and love for the scriptures.

Home to the church where I experienced my first heart break. Where I made friends, so near and dear, that I still talk to them today. Where I spent my weekends laughing, talking, serving, playing, learning, growing.

Home to the church where I met and fell in love with the man I wake to every morning. Where we were introduced. Where we became friends. Where we exchanged letters. Where we held hands for the first time. Where he asked me to be his girlfriend. Where he married me. Where we began our life together.

Home to the church where people love me and hug my neck. Even though they haven't seen me in ages. Even though they know about the mistakes I've made.

Home.

Sunday night I sat in our 'old pew.' {Of course it's technically not "ours" nor was it ever - but there was a time that we so regularly sat there - it felt like home.} It has been three years since I sat in that row and on that corner. Even now, after all this time, it was comfortable. {Like putting on your favorite oversized sweatshirt.} It still fit. It was like coming home all over again.

As voices filled the air around me with worship I was transported back in time. Back to a time when I could breathe in the comforting scent of Dad's cologne and feel his baby soft skin patting my hand. Oh, how sweet of a moment! The onslaught of memories that rushed over me where as unexpected as they were vivid. Big soft mints and chewing gum passed my way at the beginning of the sermon. Dad's worn Bible, so stuffed with bulletins they always spilled into the floor. His deep rumbly voice singing praises to Jesus. His shiny bald head bowed in prayer. Borrowing his ink pen to take notes. Watching him rock Kayli to sleep, her little bitty fingers wrapped around one of his, and around his heart. I could have lived in those memories forever.

Reality Beckoned.
Those simple sweet moments are long gone.
Things have changed.
{The realization of this cut deep into my soul.}
Such sweet memories slightly bitter.

Looking around me I see that Dad's absence is not all that has changed. The sweet older couple who always sat behind us are still there, but their grandson is missing. Such a sweet little boy who used to kick the back of our pew, play with my long hair, and melt my heart when he sang sweet praises to our savior - off key and from his heart (not the hymnal the rest of us sang from.) I wonder where he is.

The row of older lades who oohed and ahhed over my babies were still there {perhaps fewer by one or two, it is hard to remember} the difference I can not deny is that my little babies are big girls now. Babies no more.

I wonder where the young woman with the infectious smile and laugh is. She had a son who loved Dad and always begged to sit beside him. Did they find a new pew, or have they moved on?

So many reminders that time does not stand still. The minutes of my life are numbered and are slipping by... Such bittersweet memories of a time gone by, transformed into a gentle reminder {perhaps a warning} time is running out. No matter how much we may wish it... Time does not stand still... It keeps on passing.... We keep on changing... Nothing stays the same... Yesterday is gone... Tomorrow may never come...