Except a Little Bit ...

It’s been one of those days. I feel spent. I taught the educational at the writers group I attend on Monday night and then started teaching a six week series on Tuesday night at our evening women’s bible study.  Add in the usual details of the day with five children, and I feel drained, emotionally and physically. 

I was acutely aware of only having a little bit to offer, every step of oday.  A little bit of time to do my duties. A little bit of energy to play a game with the children.  A little bit of faith to persevere. A little idea to write. A little bit of food in the fridge to make dinner. A little bit of trust. A little bit of drive to fold a load of laundry, make a bed, fold a blanket, fill out paperwork. A little bit of motivation to go down to the basement and do my work out.

That’s where I finally found myself tonite. I tucked the little kids in to bed and reluctantly pulled on my running shoes and stretched on my workout clothes. I heard the cookies and ice cream calling my name from the kitchen, but I tuned them out – just barely.  

I dragged myself to the basement and climbed aboard the stationary bike to start my scheduled “intervals” – 2 minutes fast, 1 minute slow x 4. Not that bad, so why was it so grueling?  Then I transferred over to the treadmill to do a steady mere 20 minutes at a 6.0 pace.  Not that fast. Not that far. Every minute was a milestone. I did a lot of self-talk on that 20 minute run, asking myself, “Can you make it one more minute?” and wincing in response, “Yes, I can do that little bit.”

As I clomped (yes, I’m not kidding – clomped) along on the track of the treadmill, each step seeming to grow louder and louder, I began to remember some stories.

I remembered the five little stones that David had and how God used those little stones.

I remembered the 2 little mites that the widow offered and how God honored her.

I remembered a scarlet thread that Rahab hung out her window, and how God loved her.

I remembered the little bit of oil another widow had, and how God provided for her as she obeyed and did as Elisha said.

I remembered the five little barley loaves and the two smelly fish and how God took a meager meal and fed a multitude.

It’s been said that “little is much when God is in it.” I admit that I feel as if I only have a little, but that little I am determined to offer to the Lord, bit by bit, to do as He pleases, when He pleases, where He pleases, how He pleases.

I stepped off the track at exactly 20:00 minutes, breathing heavily and sweating profusely, but glad that I gave a little, minute by minute.

Except a little oil, except a scarlet thread.

Except five little stones, one thrown at the giants head.

Except two little mites, two fish and five loaves, too.

Except my little seed of faith, this I have to offer You.

Guest Blogger: Mary DeMuth

At the She Speaks conference in July, I had a chance to hear Mary DeMuth speak. I have been taking in her words of wisdom on writing and life for a couple of years, but this was the first time I saw her "live." I was touched by her authenticity and the balance in life that she portrays, as well as her advice on the writing journey.


Today, Mary is my guest blogger. I hope that you enjoy her insight and writing.
___________________________________________

Recently I had the privilege of hearing Charlie Peacock  teach at Mount Hermon. I loved what he had to say about art and the movement of our world, so much so that I picked up his book At The Crossroads , his magnum opus about CCM (Contemporary Christian Music). Fascinating, enlightening book. As a closet singer, and a lover of music, I so appreciate his heart and mind.

And then I read this gem:"In truth, the idea that any element of God's creation--be it music or a tree--has to do something in order to justify its existence has more to do with capitalism, consumerism, and marketing than with the doctrine of creation" (p. 104).

This turned my world upside down. Why? Because my whole life I've (wrongly) felt that in order to justify my existence on earth, I had to do things. To perform. To be perfect. To do everything right. And if I didn't (which happens every. single. day), I felt I had to reason to be here.

But that's looking at creation (me) as a commodity, not as a created being. It's assigning worth based on my intrinsic value to produce, to fill holes, to do things.

It's not true.

It's not true.

It's not true.

As much as I've entrenched this idea way deep into my DNA, it's not true that I must live up to standards or be super cool to earn my keep here. I simply must be. To revel in being a creation, dearly loved by Jesus, sacrificed for, graced unconditionally.

I am not a product.

I do not need to market me to prove my worth to others.

I am too valuable to be consumed.

I wonder how much my mindset about everything is tainted by a consumeristic mindset. I wonder if I view others as things to be had instead of people to be loved. I wonder why I've lacked in grace for myself when I didn't perform up to standards.

What if I'm just loved? Right now. Right here. For no other reason than I am a creation who breathes, laughs, weeps, rejoices, hollers, loves?

It may take me a while, but I'm liking the sound of these words: I don't have to justify the space I take up on earth any more.

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Mary DeMuth is an author and speaker. Her most recent published boo, Thin Places, is a spiritual memoir where Mary reflects on the "thin places" of her life where she was acutely ware of God's presence.  You can find discover more about Mary and her desire to help others turn their trials to triumph at her web-site Mary Demuth .

Remember 9/11

I sat in my family room, on the edge of the arm of the couch. I returned home from bringing my kindergartner and first grader to school, and found myself staring at the television.  My two year old played on the floor with his little toys; my eight month old daughter slept in her crib for her morning nap.


It was the morning of September 11, 2001, and life would never be the same again -- for many, for most, perhaps for all. 


At 8:46 AM, the north tower of the World Trade Center fell, after being hit by a plane hijacked by terrorists. Soon after, the south tower fell, the Pentagon was hit, and a plane went down in a field in Pennsylvania -- all by the same demise.  Terrorism. 


As Americans, we were shocked and greatly grieved by the events.  Time seemed to stand still and yet it seemed to move in fast forward.  We were flooded by uncertainties.  Bombarded with questions. Washed over by fear. We cried for the families who were involved. We were overwhelmed with the prospect that "it could be my family, too."


Today, we are called to remember.  We remember so that we do not forget, because we are a people prone to forgetting.  And we remember to honor -- because we care.


We remember and honor those who died at the hands of the terrorists -- nearly 3,000. 


We remember and  honor the families who grieve and who bravely walk through each day, not understanding, but persevering.


We remember and honor those who acted bravely -- serving, caring, digging, rescuing -- loving in action.


We remember and honor those who have fought (and are fighting) protecting our country, protecting our freedom, protecting you and me.


Yes, there are many things I will never understand. This is one of them. But today (and every day) I can remember, honor and pray.


*  Where were you when you heard about the travesty on 9/11?
*  How are you remembering today?

Pull Yourself Up By Your Boot Straps?

“Pull yourself up by your boot straps” -- I do not like that saying. People try to use it as encouragement, I suppose. If you are down in the dumps, they may say “Come on! Just pull yourself up by your bootstraps.” I can see what they may be saying, “persevere!”  but, something about it – Errrrr – it gets under my skin.

I checked out the origin of this phrase, and it is not evident where it came from or who said it first. Obviously it gives the imagery of boots and their straps (actually, laces) and the ability for one to lift oneself off the ground by pulling up on the bootstraps.  Needless to say – it’s not possible. If you doubt me – try it. You may get one foot off the ground, but not both.  Only reason you get one off – is, well, because you’re leaning on the other. The phrase is supposed to show that it is not possible to get out of a difficult circumstance by our own attempts.

Take the issue of disappointment, for instance (we've had a minor outbreak of it at our home, lately). I don’t get why some things work out and others don’t. Sometimes it is a mystery, but it is part of reality.  No denying it – we are all affected by it at one time or another.  We have dreams, goals, desires that just do not turn out the way we hoped and we end up disappointed. I cringe at the feeling that disappointment brings. It is like a thick ooze that settles on us, heavy on our shoulders, seeping in to our hearts.   

 Now, if we adopt a “I’m just going to pull myself up by my boot straps” mentality and keep on going, we really are not going anywhere at all.  What we do end up with is an attempt at denying our reality, thereby secluding ourselves from living a full and open life with ourselves, with others and with God. In addition, we deny God the opportunity to work something good out of the situation.

But if we acknowledge the disappointment and ask God to help us deal with it, then we can get somewhere.  In embracing the situation from God’s hand, and allowing the disappointment to work its way through my heart, in His timing, God will use it to make us stronger and more like His Son, even when we do not understand it (Proverbs 3:5). That's movement I'm interested in.

The problem is that sometimes just getting up and moving on is easier – or so we think. We really don't move on, other than maybe hopping, if we are super coordinated, but I don’t know about you, I’m not interested in hopping through life.  Dealing with the disappointment is hard work. Dealing with sorrow, and pain, loneliness and fear is tough, too. Living out of our hearts with open honesty, to ourselves and to others, requires a risk.  It’s hard.  It requires trust – trusting God.

Instead of reaching down and pulling up my boot straps, I’m going to lean on God, trust Him to work the disappointment (and other things that challenge my heart) for my good and His glory. The truth is, we really can’t lift ourselves up when we are down, not even partially, only God can.

·         What do you think?

·         Do you struggle with trying to do it on your own and not trusting the Lord?

What To Do for a Friend in Great Need?

My heart is deeply burdened for a friend today. I cannot shake the vision of her face or the sorrow of her heart.  I feel helpless.  I want to do something, but am not sure what. A gift? A card? What can I do, Lord?

I went to my perfect parent, my Father in Heaven, and asked Him. He knows her heart. He knows her situation.  He knows her every need.

He reminded me of a time not so long ago.  I was the one who was in the deepest depths of fear and sorrow. I sat with another friend. I shook all over, inside and out, and nothing seemed clear to me.  I had no answers. My hope felt hollow. With weak words I said, “I am having a hard time even believing that God will make something good out of this. I can’t even pray.”

She held my hand, grabbed hold of my heart and said, “You don’t need to pray right now, I am doing that for you.  I know that you are weary and that your pain is great.  Just rest.  Let me be the one who prays.” She wrapped her arms around me, and we both cried. ” I will also do the believing for you. I will stand on His promises, holding you up.”

I will never forget the power of my dear friend’s prayers and her willingness to stand strong for me, when I could not stand or speak.  It stirs me to tears, even right now, as  I remember  God’s love flowing through her, knowing that she was determined to pray for me. I was weary and weak, but she was strong. She was strong not because she knew all the answers, or even one of them at that point, but because she knew the One who promised to be present, true, good and loving, all the time.

I am stirred to be that for my other friend today, even when I cannot be close to her physically. I am praying for her, believing the promises for her, holding her heart high knowing that God will care for her and meet her every need.

He did for me. I trust He will for her, too.  As for today, I will drop her a gift and write her a note, but most importantly, I will pray.

Being Still in Stillness

On a whim, we headed out of town this weekend for a short break as a family, marking the end of the summer.  With bikes strapped on top of and behind our car (this is what happens when there are seven people in your family), we drove over to the western side of Wisconsin, spent the night and then spent the day biking along the Great River State Trail.  It was a beautiful day.  We packed a simple lunch and picnicked along the way, enjoying the scenery and enjoying each other.
  

The air was crisp like an apple, and yet dry like a corn stalk. It smelled of withering grass and sunbeams.  The trees rustled in response to the lightly blowing breeze. Leaves scampered across the bike path. And the further I went down the path, the more I could hear the sounds of fall descend around me.  It was lovely.

It was one of those rare times when all was quiet in my heart, in my mind and in my surroundings. 

As I rode along, I thought of the stillness.  I thought of the Lord and the verse, “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10) floated in to my mind. Strangely, I had not thought of it before in times of solitude or peace. I had recited it a thousand times at least, I am most certain, during dark and difficult days, but not on lovely, serene ones.  Somehow, this was new.

And I realized that even in the quiet times of life (as rare as they seem to be), God calls for me to be still – to be aware – and to know that He is God. He does not desire for me toonly be a “stormy day friend,” but a fair weather friend, in every good sense of the phrase. He desires for me to remember that He is God, not only when life is full of heartaches and tensions that drive me to Him, but when all seems quiet and serene – here too He wants me to be aware of His presence, to desire Him, to spend time with Him.

It can be the challenge for me. I cling to Him for dear life when I know that I have nothing else to cling to, when my face is wet with tears, my heart is breaking, my muscles ache from straining, but do I loosen my grip when all is well and get busy, filling the space with distractions -- diversions from seeking Him?

I hope not, but I fear I do. It was a reminder to me, that in the stillness, God desires for me to be still in Him, knowing Who He is by spending time with Him and enjoying His presence, wherever and whenever that may be.

Yes, it is true, He reveals Himself to us in His pain, in our loneliness, in our sorrow, in our losses, but He also reveals Himself in the still moments of our lives. These quiet times, can be sweet times with Him, where we walk (or ride) with an awareness of Him, feeling the breeze of His breath, hearing the rustle of His voice, smelling the sweet aroma of His love and seeing that He indeed  is good and that He is God – all the time.

The King is Enthralled with Your Beauty

It was late in the day and the band began to play.  The air was warm and moist.  The moon light dappled through the clouds, resting on the daughters’ faces. The lead singer encouraged the children (and any others who cared to partake) to sing and dance along with the next song.

My two youngest girls got up from their chairs and began to sway and move to the music. Dressed in summer clothes and with feet bare, they danced on the grassy floor of the field.  They twisted and turned like flowers in a field.  Joy emanated from their faces.  I watched them – enthralled with their beauty – not for what they did (or did not do) or what they looked like, but because of who they were – created by God.

I think as women, we sometimes lose this winsome way of being who we are, secure in who God made us to be. We shirk back, hesitate, blend in. It happens to me. Maybe it happens to you, too.

We forget (or maybe we never really new) that we are actually hand formed and planned by the Lord, beautifully made. We think that we are ordinary, at best; unnoticeable and ugly at worst. We self-guard and hide behind our hurts or insecurities, not imagining that we are truly a lovely treasure to Him.

But, Psalm 45:11 says (and are you ready for this?) “The King is enthralled with your beauty.” Do you know that?  I’m not sure I really do.  I try to cling to the fact that He loves me, but enthralled with me? That’s a pretty big word with a lot of emotion packed in to it.

Most of the time, it is hard for me to believe, but I am trying to live in light of this truth, as it gently rests upon me in each moment of the day. I am humbled by the fact that the Creator of the universe is that crazy about me; that the King of Kings should be that fixed upon me.  The Ruler above all, the One who sits upon the throne in heaven, is wild about me – and He’s wild about you, not because of what we have done (or not done) or what we look like, but because of who we are—His.

It is true. You are dearly loved, sweet sister, and He is wild for you.  You are beautiful to Him, because He made you. He made you special. The King is captivated by you. His eyes are on you, and He is crazy in love with you.

What would it look like to live in a constant awareness of His loving gaze?

Handling the Daily Dips

The yellow, diamond shaped sign read “DIP.” I slowed slightly, as the car bounced over the gully in the road, rattling the under carriage of the car and rousing my little passengers from whatever they were doing. “Nice to know it was coming,” I thought, and with a hint of sarcasm added, “even nicer if those little signs would pop up in all of life.”

“Daily Dips” -- Do you know what I mean? We come across circumstances in all sorts of shapes and sizes along this road we travel. Sometimes, the damage and destruction is devastating, causing for road closings, reconstruction and repair, other times there are detours, and sometimes, we just hit a dip in the road. They are small, inconveniences that bounce us around, often without warning. They are the unexpected that we are told we can expect. They are part of life.

They slow us down and shake us up. Untimely phone calls. Unknown bills. Breakdown of appliances. Rain when we are planning an outside party. A car glitch when we need to be somewhere. Someone forgets something and we need to run somewhere (where we are not headed) and get it. We are out of eggs for our cake. We run out of laundry soap just as the stomach flu rages through our home. Sickness infects us. Bones fracture. Plans change. Printers stop working. Times change. The hem in our skirt tears, just as we are getting ready to step out the door. Sometimes, it’s just one dip – other times, it feels like it is one after another, like the ridges on a wash board and our minds and hearts get rattled and jostled.

Seems like I’m constantly working on not only trusting God in the big things of life, but in these little ones, too.

You see, if God is really in control of all things – and He is – then the truth is that He has planned even these little things, as annoying as they may first appear. Perhaps, they are actually more like opportunities, than annoyances and nuisances. Could they be God-conveniences, not in-conveniences?

They are chances for us to be faithful to what God values. A chance to be gentle, a chance to be wise, a chance to be self-controlled (ugh!), a chance to have patience. Rather than inconvenience, maybe they are God-conveniences to love another, help a friend, take a break, slow down, ask for help, realign our priorities, spend time holding a hand (or a heart). A chance to trust God. A chance to have faith.

Yes, I believe that they are God-conveniences. God has conveniently placed them in our lives to teach us something, about ourselves, about Himself, and about life. They are useful opportunities, not hindrances to cause discomfort and trouble.

Whether it’s a road block, a detour, or the dips in the road of your travels today, trust God. Look for what He has for you. Be obedient to what He desires of you. Remember that this daily dip may in fact not be something that puts you out, but a time when God is putting something in to the life He has planned for you.

The Power of Our Words

Driving to school today, my middle daughter (prone to random questions, just like her mother), said “Mom, is the tongue really the strongest muscle in the body?”

“I’m not sure, “ I responded. “But it is the most powerful one. Do you know what that means?”

We talked about how reckless words pierce like a sword, but wise words bring healing (Proverbs 12:18), and then I asked them, “So, what can this most powerful muscle do in terms of our words?” And this is what they said (I quickly wrote down their insightful thoughts on the back of my dry cleaning slip): Our words can ________.

· Hurt or Help

· Change

· Love

· Teach and Tell

· Give joy; make others happy; make others smile

· Bring comfort

· Break people; comfort others

· Get all tangled up

· Give courage

· Grow others towards Jesus

Upon getting home, and still a bit curious about her technical question regarding the muscle itself, I did some research. The bottom line is that it is debatable whether the tongue is really the strongest muscle in the body. Depends on how you define strength. There is absolute strength (maximum force), dynamic strength (repeated motions), elastic strength (exert force quickly) and strength endurance (withstand fatigue). Is this getting too technical? Stick with me. Some would say the heart is the strongest, others the gluteus maximus (yes, that which you are sitting on), and still others the masseter muscle in your jaw.

However, regardless of which one wins out, I think we can agree that the tongue possesses all the characteristics of strength, through the words that it makes. It has maximum force speaking words for good and for evil and dynamic strength, as we are constantly communicating. It can exert force quickly, by blurting out criticism or quickly encouraging, and it can help others to withstand fatigue through words of faith.

Our tongue – it may not move a heavy object, but it can move someone to tears, to joy, to action or belief. It may not lift a bar bell, but it can lift someone’s spirits. The tongue may not carry a basket, but it can carry the good news of hope. It may not walk a mile, but it can walk along side someone with encouraging words. It may not hold our bodies upright, but it may hold up someone else in a time of weakness. And sadly, it may not knock down a building, but it may knock down a heart; it may not hurt with a punch, but it may suffer a blow to the soul.

Dear Lord: I pray that I would be ever mindful of my words. Please provide me with the grace to speak out when the time is right, and hold my tongue at other times. Help me to use gentle words, wise words, words filled with truth and beauty. Please grant me mercy when I misuse my words, and help me to make amends. Let my words be pleasing to you, Lord. Amen.

A Victory Despite Difficulty -- He's My Son

On a cold October day, almost 16 years ago, my husband and I walked in to the hospital, carrying our 8 month old son. We walked out later, the day now noticeably colder, after hearing that he had Cerebral Palsy. We were heart broken. So many unknowns and so many fears.

Parker was born at 32 weeks gestation. He was in the ICU, had a prolonged hospital course and a complicated time when he came home, but we never would have guessed that he would be diagnosed with CP.

It would take volumes for me to write his story -- our story -- God's story, in regards to Parker's life. Needless to say, there have been many times of failure and difficulty. In Parker's words, "Having special needs is hard. It really stinks."

However, Parker is bright kid, a fun kid, and a determined kid. Today, I am not going to unpack the hardship, in which time and time again, God has been faithful, but rather share something of a joy. One time a pastor friend of ours shared, "Yes, the difficulties will be great, but the victories will be sweeter.

Below is a special video, recently made -- Teen with Cerebral Palsy Wins Powerlifting Medal. I posted it on Facebook last night and received an outpouring of comments -- comments that greatly encouraged Parker. Thank you to all of you who took the time to cheer him on with your words of affirmation.

Here is a shining moment in his life. Thanks for taking the time to watch it. I hope it inspires you. Please feel free to pass it on.

PS -- And to Coach Brown -- thank you for believing in Parker. God is using you greatly to impact his life. You are making a difference.

A Time to Fly

At 7:55 AM this morning, I dropped my oldest daughter off at the doors of the High School for freshman orientation. She stepped out of the car, no longer a little girl, but a woman. Sure, the transition was gradual over the years, but something about this morning just felt different. Like a slide show in fast motion I remembered the first time I saw her on the day she was born, her first coos, her first steps, her first words. I remembered her first day of preschool, dressed in the pretty little yellow dress, and her first day of kindergarten, along with a thousand other snap shots of her life. And now – another first. There are likely to be many more to follow. But this was a big first for her (and for me) today.

I prayed for her on the way to school, like I always do with the children. I wanted to say so much, but there wasn’t time now. I wanted to tell her to be kind, be friendly, be wise, smile, and be careful. But I held back (at least for the most part), and instead, as she went to open the door, I said, “I’m proud of you, honey. You are a terrific person. You’re going to do great. I believe in you.”

And as the door closed, and she walked in to school, I thought, “Did I teach her enough, Lord? Is she ready? Did I spend enough time playing with her, teaching her, balancing love and discipline in her life? I pray that she will be wise and understanding. I pray that she will be confident in who You created her to be, and yet humble and considerate. Please help her to be courageous and yet gentle. Help her to be aware of others needs, but also strong enough to stand up for what is right. Help her to be compassionate, a leader, a tender spirited and strong -- a light in a crazy world.”

I felt a sense of peace that I did what I could do over the year, trying my best and trusting the Lord along the way. I have not done it perfectly, but I hope that she has learned by my strengths and my failures; I am sure she will need to learn from her own, as well.

I wanted to text her at 8:06 AM and say “How’s it going?”, but I didn’t, once again, I held back. It was time for her to fly.

What is it About a Surprise Party?

A gaggle of nine and ten year old girls with skates on their feet and giggles in their voices, rocked and rolled back and forth in a small group, huddling behind the door to the roller rink. They waited for their friend -- the guest of honor --to arrive at the surprise party.

The birthday girl's mother made the call to her husband signally that the other girls were ready. (The little girl thought that she was coming to the roller rink to check it out for a birthday party that she was hoping to have. Her birthday was still a week away). The mother watched the entrance while the silliness and energy grew louder from the girls. They looked like an explosion of confetti, apropos for the party. Standing ten feet behind the girls, the moms stood in a line, watching and waiting. They were there to witness the fun -- share in the joy. Who can resist witnessing the unfolding of a surprise?

"She's here, girls! Everyone ready? When she walks in, you know what to do!" whispered the mother.

At that instant, the birthday girl entered the roller rink, and a resounding "SURPRISE!" echoed throughout the rink. The little girl was shocked. She stood motionless, mouth formed in a wide open smile, her sweet little eyes staring out from behind her glasses, taking it all in.

The girls skated over to her and wrapped their arms around her, laughing and joining in with rounds of "happy birthdays" and "surprise" mingled together. The fun was under way, and it was a beautiful sight.

And the moms? We just stood there with tears in our eyes, soft smiles on our faces, and at least for myself, a heart that was stirred by something mysterious and deep, down inside.

I can't put words to it though, but it is not the first time that I was moved to tears as I watched an event like this unfold. Is it the unexpected joy? The element of suspense? Is it the room full of love and friendship? Or is it in a world where we are more often surprised by things we'd rather not deal with, and for a brief moment we find a surprise that is a celebration?

I can't figure it out, but perhaps you know what I mean. There is just something very special and life-giving in witnessing it, but it seems like there is more. I'm still smiling about it tonite, and still wondering, what is it about a surprise party?

A Tension of Faith

I sat by my fourteen year old daughter’s bedside feeling helpless, hour after hour over the past 5 days. I tried warm compresses and then cold compresses. I tried the prescribed pain medications, elevating her head, rubbing her back – nothing would touch her pain. I called doctors, brought her in 3 times (once to the ER),and still, no relief, despite antibiotic changes and pain medication adaptations. Vomiting was added to her long list of symptoms, and finally, she was admitted for IV fluids and medications.

Severe Otitis Externa (AKA Swimmers Ear) was the diagnosis, with dehydration and gastritis to top it off. As far as she was concerned, her head was going to explode. I tried to reassure her that in my previous medical experience, I never once witnessed that. She was not convinced at the time. Now, she is home and feeling better, noggin intact.

The thing is – as hard as it is for me to endure suffering, it is nearly impossible for me to watch my children endure it. I wrestled with God through the long nights of her tossing and turning in pain, silently crying, “Seriously, Lord. I can believe that you bring beauty out of my pain – but hers? Do you really have to do it this way?”

And I found myself in the tension of faith between what I believe about God in my own life and clinging to believing it for my child. The rubber was hitting the road for me – the squeal was deafening and the smell nauseating. Was I going to believe that His promises are sure, even as I watched her moan in pain? Her illness was not life threatening – but to her, it felt like it was.

And, despite my pounding on the doors of heaven for an answer, I did not hear one. His silence only prompted me to make a choice. Would I choose to believe that His promises are sure or would I doubt His great love – even in her pain – His great love for my dear daughter? I chose to believe Him, even (again) when I could not understand.

But what about my daughter? Would she understand? How would she process God allowing her pain?

I am praying that the Lord God, Lover of her life, Father of her heart, will minister to her in places that I cannot. That in my inabilities and helplessness, He would comfort her, encourage her, and strengthen her in places that a cold compress or pain medication could not reach – the deepest, dearest places of her soul.

I’m trusting Him for that today – in or out of pain, that He is tending to her (and in truth, all of His beloved), for as hard as it may be for me to imagine, He loves her even more than I do, and is weaving every detail of her life perfectly for her.

Intricate Lace of Faith

If the dew hadn’t gathered or the rain hadn’t fallen, I may not have noticed it -- a delicate yet strong spider web. Strand by strand, the spider weaves her web, back and forth, in and out between the blades of grass. The delicate fiber is nearly invisible to one passing by the yard. Now, in the morning sun, laced with fine droplets of water the creation of her web is revealed. The intricate web sparkles.

And so it is for us, strand by stand our faith is formed. Each strand, an opportunity to trust God in all circumstances, is connected to and woven through the character of God. Perhaps it is not noticed by one passing by or maybe not even to ourselves, as it is formed and takes shape. It is nearly invisible to the human eye, and yet strong and real.

And when the dew of our sorrow rises out of our hearts or the rains of our pains fall, they find a place to rest on the intricate lace of faith. Here the substance of what we believe and hope for sparkles in the sun. Our faith is revealed. The glory of God is revealed.

I imagine that the spider does not have the advantage of seeing the full beauty of her creation. She does what she was created to do -- weave. Perhaps it is the same for us. We do not always see the beauty of what God is doing through us, as we walk in obedience to Him. He strengthens us as our faith is formed – delicate (not in a fragile way, but in a precious way), beautiful and strong. And sometimes, it is only when the tears of our trials find a resting place upon that faith, that we see it sparkling.

Lord give me the strength to persevere and obey You, to trust You in all circumstances. You have made me to seek you and worship You; help me to do so even when I do not understand the bigger picture of what you are creating – strand by strand, in my life. And when my tears fall, let them bring glory to you as they rest settle on my faith that you have woven with strands of brokenness and pain, stretched out between the pillars of Your character. Amen.

Ever Feel Like You're Just Too Much?

I stood waiting at the airport ticket counter, a bulging purse slung over one shoulder, a stuffed briefcase over the other and a very heavy suitcase in tow. I knew that upon departing for my trip, my suitcase was precariously close to 48 pounds. Now on the return trip, I feared that I mis-packed and was going to tip over the 50 pound limit. Oddly, I considered the notion that if I could some how gain two pounds of body weight on a weekend getaway, maybe my suitcase could, too.

I felt the presence of the long line of people behind me, while the thought flashed through my mind, like a blinking neon sign – “what will I do if I have too much?”

“What if I place my suitcase on the scale and the digital indicator reads more than 50 pounds? What am I going to do? Pay the over price? No. That’s not sensible. Take something out? What will I remove? A heavy jean skirt? No. I am wearing that right now. My hair straightener ? No, probably won’t let me through security with that. A couple pairs of shoes? Now, where would I put those? My briefcase is already overflowing.”

Silly -- so, so silly. Finally, after an extended wait, I got called up to the counter – the counter that did not even have a scale. The attendant was gracious as he lifted my suitcase with a grunt, and placed it on the conveyor belt. He checked my bag through, gave me my ticket and I was on my way. All that wasted worry.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes similarly, I find myself lugging around the notion that I am too much -- too much for God. Too many hurts. Too much worry. Too complicated. Too many mistakes. Too prone to wandering. Too pathetic. Too serious. Too superficial. Too many questions. Too much trouble. From one extreme to another – just too much “stuff.” Memories and experiences, by my own doing and the doing of others, are crammed in to my heart, and I feel heavy and burdened.

Truth is, for me and for you sweet reader, we are not too much. We can’t have too many mistakes or hurts that stand in the way of our being accepted and loved by the Lord. He does not look at us and say, “Hmmm. We have a problem here. You are just too much. Can you unload something?”

Instead, He knows every little detail, and He is not interested in weighing it against us. He lifts up our hearts and tends to them. He doesn’t ask us to unpack them alone. He helps us. He knows the intimate and the practical parts of us. We can’t be too much for Him. He doesn’t ask us to pay for more than we think we can handle. He took care of the price. There is no weight limit to God. He has all the strength in the world to handle whatever we have.

Okay, I’m taking my eyes off of myself and fixing them on the my sweet Jesus. And as I do so, I think I can faintly hear His voice calling to me (and to you, too!) -- “Oh, dear child, I love you. Do you not know that I know exactly what is in your heart? I am here to lift your burden. It cannot be too heavy. I am not limited by anything. You are precious and honored in My sight. Let me love you. Let me carry you. Stop fighting. I am abounding in compassion. Fear not. I have summoned you by name; you are Mine.”

From Whirl Wind to Windblown -- It is Good

Windblown – that’s the only word I can use to describe how I feel coming back from the She Speaks conference. It was a beautiful time of being with other women who love the Lord, worshipping Him, spending time with my dear friend whom I traveled with and learning through sessions on speaking, teaching by the Book, writing, marketing and much more. In addition, I felt the tender touch of God speaking to my heart the words that He had just for me – words I was not expecting, but am embracing. He showed up in the most unpredictable ways. It was a whirl wind, and although I feel windblown – I know that it is good.

From experience I also know that I’m a slow learner and it takes time for me to process all that God is showing me. That’s one of the great things about God – He doesn’t expect us to get it right away. He gives us time – He uses that time.

For now, I can feel the Lord impressing one major truth on my heart, as I step away from the intensity of the conference and back in to the chaos of life. God is in control – all the time – in the monumental and in the slight and momentary. He is the Author of my giftings, and the manager of how they will be used – that’s for you, too, sweet friend.

In my words, “He is my pen, my agent, and my publisher, and my marketing director.” I’m so relieved about that, otherwise, my tendency is to fret about what to do next, and then worry that I am not doing enough. I am reminded of the importance of trusting God for the every next step, and intentionally spending more time with Him, in His Word, in His presence, in His peace, and in prayer. There really is no good excuse. I am more convicted than ever.

It’s funny though, or not so funny, but just about the time that I think, “Ok, I’m just going to hang out with God, continue to write and see what He has,” the next thought that pops in to my mind is, “Maybe I should just quit.” Ridiculous, really. I know that there is someone out there – need I mention his pathetic name? s _ t _ n – who would like that. He would like me to mute my voice and give up, which would really be giving up on God. I’m not up for cooperating with the scoundrel. I’m choosing to trust God’s plan for my life, and His unfolding of it. God is going to do what He is going to do. What a relief.

I’m feeling dolefully inadequate in expressing myself today – and part of me is just wondering, maybe the windblown I am feeling is not only one of being overwhelmed, but one of being moved by the wind-like Spirit of God – that kind of Windblown. I am struck by the bigness of God and what He is doing in and through me, and even more so, I am moved by His tender, gracious love for me. Why He’d even bother – I sometimes am not sure – but He does. Again, what a relief.

Stepping Out in Faith -- Heading to "She Speaks"

Early this morning I sat by my computer, going over some last minute changes on my talks for the critique group I am participating in at the She Speaks conference I am attending this weekend. I’ll be joining 600 other women with a mutual focus on the Lord and what He has called us to do through ministry, writing and/or speaking; I’m nervous and excited.

One hundred things were teaming through my head – schedules for the 5 children, travel arrangements, last minute packing details, the weather, my hair, my shoes, what kind of bird was chirping outside of my window and thoughts like, ‘What was a I thinking when I registered for this?” and “I hope that I do not exceed the 50 pound weight limit on my suitcase.”

Just at the point of nearly being overwhelmed, my nine year old daughter appeared next to me. Wiping sleep from her eyes, wrapped in a pale pink blanket, adorned with hearts, she whispered to me, “Mom, let’s take a few minutes to pray. I’m really going to miss you.”

And so that’s what we did. We went in to the next room, where she curled up in my lap and we prayed. I prayed first for my family, for the details, for their hearts and for my trip. Then, she prayed for me. Her sweet little voice spoke words of encouragement and love, asking the Lord to protect me, help me with my talks and give me a wonderful time.

Just what I needed, at just the right time – prayer.

A few months ago, a friend gave me this quote:

“What really matters when God calls you to do something is not whether you feel inadequate. Of course you will; you are inadequate. So am I. That’s why God promises to go with us. What matters is your decision. Only people who say “yes” to challenge, demand and risk are ever fully alive.” -- John Ortberg.

Although I still have a fleeting thought of, “What was I thinking?”, I am stepping out in faith, trusting that the Lord opened up this opportunity for me to learn more and to grow, and that He has already gone before me and will be with me (Deuteronomy 31:8).

If you are led to pray for me, thank you. I will be gone through the weekend. Please pray for my family, as well.

Authenticity Pondered (Part 2)

In yesterday’s post, I shared with you some of the thoughts that my readers had regarding the deep topic of authenticity. I’ve been thinking about what I agree with and what I am not quite sure about, in regards to what they had to say. I’ve got some of my own thoughts.

I think living authentically has to do with living openly, in humility, before the Lord, ourselves and others.

It’s about embracing who God created us to be, and at the same time acknowledging that we are not perfect. We are infected with sin. We have weaknesses, and yet we are not defined by these weaknesses. We are defined by God. It is being aware of our beauty and blemishes and secure in who we are in His sight – secure enough to be vulnerable.

It is being willing to say, “I struggle with ______ .” Fears. Doubts. Feeling down about myself. Believing lies. Temptations. Self-pity. Selfishness. Apathy. Worry. Rejection. My past. My present. Depression. Anxiety. It is sharing where we are at in that struggle and how God is working in our lives.

We seem to desire authenticity in others, but are hesitant to always live it out ourselves. It requires taking a chance to open up to others and share our lives – the joys, the sorrows, and the struggles. We’ve likely been hurt before in doing so, and so we shirk back, afraid of rejection or humiliation.

Living authentically does not fear others negative responses to our willingness to be honest about ourselves. It is trusting God to use our lives and our stories. Others may be critical. They may accuse us of being too serious. They may turn their back on us, out of their own discomfort. It is not wearing our heart on your sleeve or airing our dirty laundry 24/7, but having a willingness to share who we are wisely and openly.

Being in the company of someone who is willing to live authentically is refreshing – like a trickling stream, an autumn breeze, or watermelon and lemonade on a hot summer day.

I think it is the “cup of cold water” that Jesus talks about in Matthew 10. It is loving in the name of Jesus, opening ourselves up, sharing our life story, sharing our struggles, in order to encourage and comfort those whom God has placed in our paths, by sharing what God has done and is doing. It is taking the comfort that we have received from God in ALL troubles to comfort those in ANY trouble (2 Corinthians 1:4). When we open our hearts, are authentic, honest, real – not perfect, just real – God can use us as a vessel of His love.

It’s funny. As I am writing this, I can feel my anxiety rise over sharing my thoughts. I feel vulnerable. Somewhere, out in the distance, I can hear someone saying, “I don’t agree. What does she know? I don’t think she’s very authentic. Who does she think she is writing on this subject?”

Truth is, I’m not an expert, just another sojourner for Christ, trying to be intentional in my living and loving the Lord. I want to live in humility, wisely, openly, trusting in Him. I strive to live authentically, but I know I fail.

I hope that these words gave you something to think about and maybe even encourage you to continue your quest for living authentically.

Authenticity Pondered (Part 1)

Authenticity – “the quality of being not false or copied; genuine; real”. But what does it really mean -- lived out? What does it look like? How can we do we do it?

We can look at a handmade vase in a museum and say, “That is authentic.” But a vase is not alive; it does not act, feel, or think. It does not make mistakes. It does not have a personality.

I believe that we crave authenticity in others. I think we crave it in ourselves. The whole idea of what it means to live authentically has been on my heart.

A year ago (seriously, has it been that long?) I asked the question, “What does being authentic mean to you? What does it look like lived out?” I received quite a few responses, and today I am going to share with you some of the ideas that my readers shared with me.

· Being comfortable in your own skin.

· Being the same person regardless of the audience

· I think that personal authenticity starts with a desire to honor God through our unique design. Do we believe God has created each of us in such a special way that we appreciate ourselves and desire to share ourselves with others in order to be about His work in a way only we can accomplish? And then, unfortunately, there is our sinful side. Who wants to share that part, authentically? Yet, in our weakness, He is strong.

· It means being who you are, not doing for others to get accolades, not doing/buying for yourself to get attention from others. Simply put, doing what you want when you want for yourself and the benefit of others, not to be showy or boastful, but to just be who you are.

· To me, being authentic is not only speaking the truth, but living it. My authenticity comes from how God defines me, not the world, my friends, not my family, from Christ!

· A person who says one thing, but does another – that person is not authentic.

· True to whom you are in the core of your being or not trying to be something that you are not.

· An authentic person is real in all areas of life – will admit when they are happy, sad, struggling, what the yare working on, etc… An authentic friend has human faults, recognizes that others have faults, too, and accepts you for the human that God created.

· Authenticity is the ability to be yourself, without holding anything back or hiding behind the mask of who you want people to believe you are instead of who you really are. To be authentic then, you must be “whole” – the same inside as you are behaving on the outside. Authenticity is frightening because it makes you vulnerable, but it is also freeing for trying to be something that you are not is exhausting.

Thought provoking? I think so. Some ideas you may agree with, others you may not; it's an interesting cross section. I don’t have all the answers either, but I will be back tomorrow to share with you some of the thoughts that I have bouncing around in my head and my view of living authentically. Feel free to add to the conversation.