{a reason for thanks}

"Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is is good,

for His steadfast love endures forever!"

Psalm 107:1

We've heard it before, probably over and over again.  It may have become so familiar that we don’t really think about its meaning.  But I encourage you to stop right now and go over it slowly.  Savor each word.  What does it mean?  Do we believe it?  And what are the implications for our everyday lives when we do so?

God is always, only good. And His covenant-keeping, faithful love lasts forever.   

But what about those times when the burdens weigh heavy?  When the diagnosis is bleak?  When the heart is breaking?  What about the times when the money doesn't seem to stretch and the prodigal is afar off and the storm winds are battering down upon your world?

Speak this truth to your heart, dear ones.   Whatever you’re facing,

Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good,

for His steadfast love endures forever!

Linger in Psalm 107.  All throughout the chapter, we see examples of trouble and desert experiences and sickness and storms.  As Nancy Leigh DeMoss pointed out at the recent True Woman ’14 Conference, the pattern throughout this passage serves as an example for you and me. 

There’s trouble.  We cry out.  God delivers.  We give thanks. 

Oh, we know the very real pain of this broken world.  In His grace, God uses the pain to draw us to Him, for it’s there that we finally realize how desperately we need Him.  And so we cry out (v.6, 13, 19, 28).  Now He may not provide the desired outcome immediately.  He may not change our circumstances.  But we keep crying out, for in so doing, God will be changing us, bringing about the real deliverance we need.  He alone is our desired haven (v. 30), not a different set of circumstances.   God will always deliver in a way that brings Him the most glory and makes us most like Him.  And our response?  Hearts spilling forth with thanksgiving…

“Let them thank the Lord for His steadfast love,

for His wondrous works to the children of man!”

Psalm 107:8 (15, 21, 31)

“A soul redeemed demands a life of praise.” 

~ Nancy Leigh DeMoss

{building my house}

Facebook was aflutter in recent days with a blog entry that apparently made a lot of my friends feel better about themselves and their homes.  The blog was posted and reposted, followed with a chorus of hearty amens.  The writer gave us permission to shed the pressure and expectation we place upon ourselves in caring for our homes.

"I have young kids!" she reasoned.

"Friends should be coming to see me, not my house," she argued.

"I'm not out to impress anybody with my homemaking," she declared.

Yes, yes, and yes.  All true.  

When we have young kids, time spent investing in them certainly trumps that long to-do list.  And, oh, I know!  Those little ones (and big ones, too) can undo a task as quickly as we complete it.  

And, of course, at the heart of every friendship should be this deep love, authenticity, and acceptance; a bond that is not swayed or deterred by one's performance or shortcomings.  

And certainly, our ability to clean, organize, cook, and decorate should never be about impressing or showing up the girls coming over for Bible study.  Our motives are severely out of whack if we're trying to impress them with our latest Pinterest projects.  

And yet, friends...isn't home to be the site of our best work and ministry?  Shouldn't we be passionate and intentional when it comes to creating a refuge and safe haven for the people we love best?  I long to create a comfortable, inviting, restful place for the guys under my roof. 

I love Proverbs 31.  Really, I do.  Yeah, I know a lot of us feel intimidated by the woman we meet there.  She seems too good; too perfect.  She makes us look bad.  But I find in her such vision for what can be; such peace and joy and fulfillment in gladly embracing God's design.

All throughout the passage, we see this remarkable woman actively working and preparing for her loved ones.  Verse 13 says she works with willing hands.  After her loved ones are clothed and cared for, she sets about using her energies to feather her nest.  Let's park on this, girls.  It's gonna get a little uncomfortable.  Are you ready?

I believe that sometimes we shy away from this whole homemaking idea, quick to claim that we’re no Martha.  Can I say to you in love that we need to stop making excuses?  

I've been sobered and convicted by this quote:

"A lot of what I thought was my personality was just sin.”  

~ Andree Seu

I think we can apply this in a lot of different ways, but for our purposes today, I'm applying it to our homes.  Sometimes I’m quick to pull the Martha card, but truth be told, it’s an excuse for my own laziness and sin.

"I don’t have to do the laundry (‘cause I’m no Martha)."

"I don’t have to pick up the clutter (or the kids’ toys) before my husband comes home (‘cause I’m no Martha)."

"Those dishes in the sink?  They can wait (‘cause I’m no Martha)."

Ladies, I don't know about you, but for me, my lack of discipline in caring for my home comes down to *me* and my selfish desires.  There have been so many times I've been unwilling to abandon my personal rights in order to invest in my own family and home.  'Cause the truth is, I find time for facebook and blogging and coffee dates---all this while I supposedly don't have time to clean my home and create a refuge for the dear ones living right here.

Friends, we have the glad privilege of creating a haven for the loved ones under our roofs.  We’ve heard Proverbs 14:1 quoted:  “The wisest of women builds her house.”  And we stop there.  But the verse goes on to say that folly with her own hands tears it down.  We’re either building with intention and effort and blood, sweat, and tears, or we’re tearing down with our foolishness, neglect, and devaluing of it.  There’s no middle ground.  

I'm not talking about perfection, ladies.  And I'm certainly not in denial over the messes, piles, and overflowing laundry baskets that so often reside here.  But let's not simply settle.  Let's not blindly jump on to the bandwagon claiming that messes are somehow more real, sincere, and authentic than intentionally planning, working, and building with purpose.  At the heart of my homemaking, I want my guys to see and feel evidence of my love, not just the half-hearted attempts I grudgingly throw their way.  I want to honor, nurture, and prepare for them.  Nowhere in scripture does it give me a pass!  My home is telling a story.  It tells who I am and what I'm all about.  It tells where my heart is.  I want the way I care for our home to reflect the Designer of everything; a God of order and extraordinary creativity.  

"I believe that a godly home is a foretaste of heaven.  Our homes, imperfect as they are, must be a haven from the chaos outside.  They should be a reflection of our eternal home, where troubled souls find peace, weary hearts find rest, hungry bodies find refreshment, lonely pilgrims find communion, and wounded souls find compassion---what Robert Ingersoll called ‘a palace for the soul.’” 

~ Jani Ortlund

For further study:
Proverbs 31
Romans 12:10
1 Corinthians 10:31
Colossians 3:17
Colossians 3:23
1 Timothy 5:14
Titus 2:3-5

{branch}

One of my 2014 goals is to read through the Bible chronologically.  I'm on day 4 in Genesis, and I'm pretty much blown away.

Truth be told, the genealogies and "Mahalalel lived after he fathered Jared 830 years and had other sons and daughters" kinds of descriptions didn't seem very applicable or poignant to me before.  I'd gloss over them and inwardly be thinking, "Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Let's move on."

But now.  Now it's coming to life.

For tucked in the middle of these lengthy genealogies and family trees are these little nuggets.  If I skim through the passage, I miss them completely.  For example, look at Genesis 5.  In the midst of a straight-up rundown of Adam's descendants to Noah, we get to verses 18-24:

"When Jared had lived 162 years he fathered Enoch.  Jared lived after he fathered Enoch 800 years and had other sons and daughters.  Thus all the years of Jared were 962 years, and he died.  When Enoch had lived 65 years, he fathered Methuselah.  Enoch walked with God after he fathered Methuselah 300 years and had other sons and daughters.  Thus all the days of Enoch were 365 years.  Enoch walked with God and he was not, for God took him."

In the midst of this lengthy list of who fathered who, Moses---through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit---made sure we knew that---this Enoch?  He was a man who walked with God.

Similarly, we get to Genesis 10.  We read the listing of all the descendants of Noah.  Verse 6 continues:

"The sons of Ham:  Cush, Egypt, Put, and Canaan.  The sons of Cush:  Seba, Havilah, Sabtah, Raamah, and Sabteca.  The sons of Raamah:  Sheba and Dedan.  Cush fathered Nimrod; he was the first on earth to be a mighty man.  He was a mighty hunter before the Lord.  Therefore it is said, 'Like Nimrod a mighty hunter before the Lord.'"  

Each of the others descendants is simply a listing.  But for each of these men, there is a pause...a detour of sorts.  God specifically wants to tell us about these men.  He wants us to know that they walked with Him.

Of course, this led to a soul-stirring question in my heart:  If God were recounting my family history, making note of each branch upon my family tree, what would He say when He got to me?  Would He pause with joy?  "Now this Nikki...she walked with Me."  Or would my name be simply that?  A blip before proceeding to my sons?

As 2014 stretches out before us, filled with so much hope and promise, my heart's longing is to be known as faithful to my God and to my family.  May the words I speak be so much more than words:  a true, authentic reflection of the work God is doing deep down inside me. I desire to live with genuine joy and satisfaction, not simply by trying harder, but by resting in the One who holds, carries, and sustains me.   I look ahead with eagerness as He continues to teach, woo, convict, and walk beside me this year.

{my whole life}

The first measures play and I'm back there.



Standing in a looming auditorium filled with parents and college freshmen.
Our firstborn son flanked by his dad and me.
Tears streaming down my cheeks.
It was the dedication service at our son's college last August---
the final moments before we said "see you later" for what seemed like an inordinate amount of time.
A defining moment.
As the worship team led us in this song,
my mouth tried to form the words,
but I had to settle for singing along in my heart.

Falling on my knees in worship
Giving all I am to seek Your face
Lord, all I am is Yours

Was it true of me?
As I stood there with my heart upraised and our firstborn son towering strong and steady beside me, the question rang in my heart:
The ones I love more than life?
My comfort?
My dreams?
My heart?
My all?
Had I released it all in sweet surrender to my Lord?

My whole life I place in Your hands
God of mercy, humbled I bow down
In Your presence, at Your throne

The fact is, I'd done it before.
Frequently.
The problem is, I take it all back again.
When change comes.
When fears rise.
When faced with the unknown.
When the cost seems too great.

This has been a year---again---
of learning to trust;
learning to release;
learning to surrender.
It's a daily, moment by moment act of faith to trust God's heart toward me,
believing that He is good;
being convinced that I can trust Him;
knowing that I can give Him my all,
because He is Lord over all.

Oh, friends, as this new year dawns, may our hearts be filled with indescribable hope, joy, and confidence in giving God all we are and have.  It's then that we have true peace.

"My times are in His hand."  Psalm 31:15

{that one ugly November day}

After walking with Jesus for more than 35 years, I marvel as never before at His Word.  It's so personal.  So practical.  So applicable. And so often, God uses it to give me a nice, swift kick in the pants.

My day got off to a rough start yesterday.  My husband made a benign comment that immediately escalated in my mind.  I made assumptions about his intent, convinced he was trying to be malicious. I was hurt and offended and let him know it.  Though he tried to apologize, I wasn't ready to accept it.  Somewhat confused, he left for work, leaving behind a still-seething wife.

All morning long, I replayed the scenario in my brain.
I felt justified in my anger.
I carefully constructed a well-thought argument why I was right and he was so very wrong.

He came home for lunch, hoping to make things right.  It was obvious when he found me putting away laundry upstairs that I wasn't ready to make things right.
I wanted to be right.
And I told him so.

And once again, he returned to work, leaving behind an angry, bitter wife.  He texted a while later,
again apologizing and asking me to forgive him.  But I wasn't ready to let go of my anger---or my pride.

At that point it occurred to me I hadn't had my quiet time that morning.  And honestly, despite the fact that I felt justified and right all along, I was absolutely miserable.  My heart was restless, I felt distracted, and I (obviously) was lacking joy and contentment.  I knew I needed time with my Father.  And so I sat down in my big comfy chair with my Bible and my devotional book.

And truly, this is where it gets lol!
I mean, an all-out laugh out loud God-moment!
As I opened my devotional book to yesterday, November 19, this is what I saw:

Then the Lord said, "Is it right for you to be angry?"  Jonah 4:4

Really?  I mean, really?!
It doesn't get much more direct, personal, or in-your-face than that!

At once, the barricades crumbled and a rush of tears flowed.  The Holy Spirit convicted me of my sin.  In tears I confessed and repented to my heavenly Father, and immediately after, I contacted my husband to apologize; to offer and receive forgiveness.

I share this very humbling story for a couple of reasons.
One, our marriage is amazing, but not perfect.
Afterall, it's made up of a couple of sinners!
God uses marriage to reveal our own sinfulness---to hold up a mirror to our selfishness and pride.
It shows us how desperately we need the gospel.
It teaches us to selflessly love and give and serve and forgive---
you know, like He does.
I'm so thankful for the love and grace my husband demonstrates toward me.
Through him, I see a picture of Christ's love.

My second reason for sharing this story is to remind you that God's word is real.
Alive.
Active.
Don't believe the lie that it's not relevant;
don't attempt to convince yourself that it's not all that important.
Oh, how I thank God that He speaks to us through His Word;
that He challenges, convicts, instructs, and teaches us.
Oh, dear one, it's His love letter to you!
Read and prioritize it.
Treasure and apply it.
Love it and live it.
May God use it to make our hearts, our lives, and our marriages a holy reflection of Him.

{happy of soul}

I do not know

when I have had happier times

in my soul

than when I have been sitting at work,

with nothing before me

but a candle and a white cloth,

and hearing no sound

but that of my own breath;

with God in my soul

and heaven in my eye.

I rejoice in being exactly what I am---

a creature capable of loving God,

and who, as long as God lives,

must be happy.

I get up

and look a while out the window.

I gaze at the moon and stars,

the work of an Almighty Hand.

I think of the grandeur of the universe

and then sit down

and think myself

one of the happiest

beings in it.

~ an anonymous 18th century woman

{draw near}

I tried.
Over and over again throughout the past year,
I've sat down at this computer screen as I've done so many times before and stared blankly at my reflection.
There was so much going on in my heart;
so much God was revealing and teaching me.
I wanted to share it.
And yet the words didn't come.
Over and over again I sensed God gently putting a finger to my mouth and shushing me,
urging me to quietly ponder and reflect on the truths He was impressing on my heart,
rather than processing them "out there" in blog world.
Though I'm so entirely grateful for and blessed by blogging,
I've realized that one of the dangers---for me, at least---
is blogging for the feedback, the reaction, the affirmation.
And throughout a seemingly endless season---a tough season---of change and transition,
I believe with all my heart that God was calling me to look and listen to Him alone;
to hush...be still...and know that He is God.

I used to think that change and transition were a rare occasion---
an occasional bump on the otherwise smooth and uneventful road map of life.
But I'm learning that I was entirely wrong.
For all---and I mean all---of life is one change, one transition or another.
I do myself well to not be surprised or taken off guard by this.

Our firstborn came home for his first visit from college this weekend.
It had been 8 1/2 long weeks!
It was pure bliss to have him here.
I wondered what a visit would look like:
would he seamlessly re-enter our home or would there be an awkward adjustment period?
My fears were put to rest when,
after hugging me long and tight,
he strolled over to the fridge to see what was inside.  :)
Last night, as I hugged him goodbye once again, a deep ache welled up in my soul as I realized that this is life as we know it for the foreseeable future---and really, for the rest of our lives.

Change.  Transition.  Goodbyes.
Repeat.

How quickly I'm prone to feel sorry for myself;
how readily I forget God's faithfulness yesterday and worry about today;
how deeply I struggle to hold my loved ones with an open hand and a surrendered heart.

But in this latest chapter of "newness,"
God has led me to this precious, hope-filled passage.
I view it as a loving but bold kick in the pants.
When my thoughts are swirling and my heart is aching and I'm grasping for the control I thought I had...

Nikki, Submit yourself therefore to God.
Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.
Cleanse your hands, you sinner, and purify your heart, you double-minded.
Be wretched and mourn and weep.
Let your laughter be turned to mourning
and your joy to gloom.
Humble yourself before the Lord,
and He will exalt you.
James 4:7-10

There's such hope and promise in this passage!
These aren't flowery, feel-good words.
These aren't "if-you-feel-like-it" suggestions or recommendations.
They're imperative statements from God's heart to mine.
And to me He says that rather than bombarding myself with an array of ever-changing messages based upon my up-and-down emotions, I must submit it all---my thoughts, my fears, my longings, my life---to Him, my never-changing, faithful God.  I must stand firm against and resist Satan's lies and attacks.  And I must draw near, come close to Him.

I marvel at the beauty here:
Satan flees, God comes near.

For so many years, I believed that surrender is a one-time "I-did-it-so-I-can-check-it-off-my-list" idea.
*buzzer sound* Thank you, for playing.
No.  So wrong.
Surrender is a day-by-day,
hour-by-hour,
moment-by-moment bending of the knee:
And as God continues to teach me,
to purify me,
to shape and conform my heart to His,
I'm learning to delight in His nearness,
to bask in His presence.
For in change-saturated days,
it's in His presence that my fears are vanquished,
my soul finds rest,
and my life finds meaning and satisfaction.

{growing pains}

A mom always knows.

"How old is your baby?"

"Nine days," she smiles proudly.

Not a week.  Nope, nine days, to be exact.

"How old is your baby?"

"16 months," she answers sweetly.

Any age between one year and two, a dad will say his baby is a year and a half.
But a mom always knows.

"He's 16 months."

I've discovered something in the past few weeks.

That innate ability "to know" doesn't change or go away with time.
It's built into our psyche as moms.  It's part of who we are.

For just as I tracked with each day, week, and month of his young life, I'm now tracking with the weeks since he left our home.

"Three weeks today."

And frankly, it feels like forever.

For while we're doing well---
while he's blossoming and growing in every way---
it's hard to settle into a new normal.
Just. plain. hard.
For everything has changed.
It's new dynamics.
The absence of one of us.
The end of an era.
I can know in my head that this is good and right (and it is).
But my mama's heart is lagging behind a bit.
It's taking a bit to convince it of what my head already knows.

On Sunday night I was talking with a friend who's been down this road four times over.
"It's been almost three weeks," I lamented.
"You'd think I'd be through the grieving part by now."
"Oh, no," she replied,  "it takes months."
And with that, the besetting guilt that I've been carrying these weeks lifted.
For in some ways,
I've placed tremendous pressure upon myself to "just get over it."
"Release---it's what we were made to do,"
I've been told over and over.
While that's true,
the process still hurts.
The pain is still real.

Yet even in the midst of my heart's deep ache,
I'm reminded that it's exactly in this place where God delights in working and bringing new growth.
It's in this pain that I call out to Him,
that I run to Him,
that I abide in Him.
And it's here that He speaks courage and hope into my heart; that He reminds me of Truth; that He holds me close and whispers His precious promises over my soul.

This letting go thing:
I can't exactly say I love it.
But I can say I'm grateful for it.
For it's here with my hands wide open that God is filling me and teaching me and ministering to me.
And there's no better place I'd rather be.

"The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms."

Deuteronomy 33:27

P.S.  On a lighter note, I'm grateful for our little mother-son connections;
those grace-filled reminders that our hearts are still united,
whether it be a text like the picture on left (followed up by my return text on right),
a text on our younger boys' first day of school to let me know he's praying for me,
or facetime laughter as an entire family of five (plus the pooch).
Yup, grace all over the place!

{for this son I prayed}

And just like that, I'm a part of the club.
It's a sorority of mothers.

Mothers who have walked the same road.

Juggled the same emotions.
Hidden behind dark sunglasses.
It's brave women who lovingly nurtured and protected and gave their very lives for the little ones beneath their wing---then when they were strong, released them to fly.

As we hurtle at breakneck speed toward the inevitable "launch day," I've been nothing short of awed at how God has surrounded me and hemmed me in with these remarkable women.
From all sides they've come---
fellow mamas, friends, sisters.
They remember,
empathize,
see,
know.
They remind me, they point me to Truth.
I've received unexpected notes in the mail,
out-of-the blue e-cards on the net.
One friend paid me a visit at work with flowers in hand.
Some offer sage words,
while others do nothing more than hug me,
their own eyes brimming with tears.
At a time when my own tears are so close to the surface and ready to fall at any given moment, there simply aren't words to communicate how strongly God has used these fellow mamas to minister to my heart.

He's used another mama, too.
I find I'm so hungry, so desperate for the Word of God.
When every mothering instinct in me is to hang on,
I find myself going to God's Word,
asking Him to show me how to let go and trust.
This morning my fingers paged to a familiar passage in 1 Samuel.
And there was Hannah.
Beautiful, grace-filled, faith-filled Hannah.
I remember claiming 1 Samuel 1:27-28 when our first son was born.
I even made a framed photo featuring this verse for his baby blue nursery.
Oddly, the words were easier then as I rocked my newborn babe close to my heart.
It was easy to say he belonged to the Lord as I snuggled him safely in my arms and inhaled his sweet skin.

But now,
now he's leaving me.
And the declaration of my heart so many years ago seems somehow challenged.
My natural tendency is to hold on; to take him back.
"No, God.  He's mine," I argue.
"I'm not ready to let go."

But I look at dear Hannah's heart and I regain focus.
In her distress and longing for a child, she prayed and wept bitterly.
She pleaded with God for a son,
vowing to give him to the Lord all the days of his life.
God answered her prayer,
and when Samuel was weaned,
she brought him to the house of the Lord.

"For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my petition that I made to him. Therefore I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.” 1 Samuel 1:27-28

I'm pretty sure I would have had second thoughts.
But reading this passage again this morning,
I'm challenged and inspired by Hannah's heart.
As she brought her beloved son, Samuel, to the house of the Lord, I saw myself bringing our own son to college next week:  releasing, entrusting, surrendering.
"You gave him to us, God.  He's yours.  You gave him to us for a time to train and nurture and teach him about You.  And now we're entrusting him solely to You.  Continue the work You began in him."

What strikes me most is what comes next.
There's no narration of Elkanah, Hannah's husband, prying Hannah's fingers off her son (like I'm envisioning for myself next week).
She's not seen being dragged away in distress
(though I'm certain there were tears).
They worshiped.
And chapter 2 begins,
"Hannah prayed and said,
'My heart exults in the Lord;
my strength is exalted in the Lord..." (1 Samuel 2:1)

So how do I let go?
How do I release?
In faith.
In worship.
In prayer.
In thanksgiving.

I'd prayed for this son.
God answered my prayers and my longings and blessed me beyond my wildest imagination!
And so I've dedicated his life to our heavenly Father.
For all of his days, wherever he is, he belongs to the Lord.

{invested}

March 13:

This afternoon I did something I've not done in more than 20 years.

I filled out a job application.

It's hard to put into words the depth of feeling and emotion that filled my heart upon doing so.  I frequently had to pause as the tears were clouding my vision.  At one desperate moment, I even called Jon and cried, "I don't know how to do this!"  Most recent employment?  1994.  Skills?  Gifts?  Education?  I don't have a formal degree.  I don't have an impressive resume.  I've simply been loving and pouring into these guys God has entrusted to me.  And Jon reminds me that that's exactly what's needed; that He's going to somehow use the passions and gifts He's stirred up in me over these years and use them in some crazy way.  I want to believe him.  

I can still feel the angst in my heart that cold winter afternoon.  Applying for a job was not only scary, but emotionally strenuous, as it indicated the end of a season (in case I'd forgotten based upon all the other season-ending reminders).  *grin*

Sometimes I genuinely believe that God looks down upon my disbelief and just chuckles.  "Oh, my child," He whispers.  "Don't you know I've got this?  You spend so much energy worrying and fretting, all the while forgetting I have your ultimate good in mind.  Just watch what I'm going to do..."

About 12 or 13 years ago, my girlfriends and I began meeting for weekly Bible study.  We were all at similar stages in life, and we wanted nothing more than for God to captivate our hearts in such a way that our families would receive the overflow.  As we read "A Woman After God's Own Heart" by Elizabeth George, we were encouraged to develop 5 fat files.  These 5 fat files were to be a purposeful means through which we grew in specific areas God had placed on our hearts.  The idea was to develop a fat file for each of five topics, and then commit ourselves to filling those files.  For example, topics might include counseling, hospitality, teaching, Bible study, parenting, organization---any area we were interested in growing.  Anytime we came across an article or newsclipping or picture about that topic, we put it in our file.  In fact, Pinterest might be the modern day version of this!  The point was that over time, we’d become well-versed, better trained, and further prepped in these particular areas.  We all had young children.  We all sometimes thought we’d always have young children.  Yet as we nurtured and poured into them, we continued to pursue knowledge and grow in our personal walks with Christ.  We intentionally sought to grow in areas He’d imprinted on our hearts. Among mine were marriage * motherhood * hospitality.

I didn't think much about it till a few months ago.  Yes, I’d been intentional in various areas over the years.  I’d dug in and researched and developed passions.  And all these years later, it’s these exact topics that continue to fill me and excite me---those that God has wired me to do.

And you want to know what else He did?  I'm still marveling....still can't believe it.

After filling out the initial application and interviewing for an office position at our church (something I did pre-kids; something I could do, have done, but wasn't passionate about), I heard words I wasn't prepared to hear:  our church had long discussed the need to hire a hospitality coordinator, and the time had now come.  Would I apply for that position?

What?  Really?  My love for people, my heart to make them feel welcome, my passion to create an environment where it's impossible not to reflect on God's grace, my all-out love of cooking and catering, planning and organizing events, and decorating?  Could it be any more perfect? Any more of God?

God has used and invested these past 19 years in deep, rich, life-giving ways.  It's a reminder, mamas, that as we're obedient in the seemingly small, sometimes mundane, tasks of day-to-day life; giving up our lives for the little ones in our care; nurturing and pouring into the ones so graciously entrusted to us, God is changing and teaching us, as well.  Our boys have taught me endless lessons---what it is to love unconditionally, forgive with abandon, and embrace each and every season as a gift, to name a few. And if all that weren't enough, among the seemingly ordinary ebb and flow, God has been richly, abundantly, surprisingly preparing me for the next season:  instilling gifts, stirring up passions, and priming me for fruitful ministry.

I wipe away tears as I consider it.
How loving.
How perfect.
How God.

P.S. I was offered the job and I begin July 1.  

As I Wait For the Mailman

Three straight days I've been waiting.
Well, really, three straight months.
My eyes keep darting out the window,
searching for the mailman who will deliver the news that's been so long in coming.
And wouldn't you know?
Today, a thunderstorm has apparently delayed our ordinarily punctual delivery!
On this day in history, April 17,
we'll potentially know where our son is going to college.
As I await the mail that contains a decision letter,
my heart is in my throat.

In these moments,
I'm so quick to pick up the phone;
to reach out in frantic desperation to someone I can touch.
Yet even as I punched in the number this afternoon,
God gently nudged me.
"I'm right here," He whispered.
How prone, how quick I am to turn to others before I turn to Him.
As I folded our laundry,
I told Him how conflicted my heart feels;
about the agonizing fear that's warring within me.
"Fill me with truth," I cried.
"Remind me that You're in this
and fill me with peace!"

And as a loving Father,
He gave me exactly what I need.
I kid you not, no sooner had I made that prayerful plea that the music to "How He Loves" began playing on my Pandora station.
You know, my song.

Immediately, I went back 35 years.
I remembered the times I was afraid,
the times I needed reassurance.
I'd run to my daddy's arms and he'd scoop me up,
assuring me that I was safe, protected;
that everything was going to be ok.
It's this image I have in mind as I come to my heavenly Father.
And this afternoon,
I found myself running to Him once again,
admitting my fear.
And as a loving Father,
He scooped me up.
He reminded me He's in control, He's got this, and everything is going to be ok.

For He loves me!
No matter the circumstances or life,
no matter the content of that envelope that's out for delivery right now,
I can be confident that as a loving heavenly Father---
a Father who desires His very best for us---
He is designing and working all things for our good.

He loves us, oh, how He loves us!

Update:  After a much delayed mail delivery (poor mailman was soaked), the letter arrived at 4:30 today.  Our son is accepted at the college of his choice.  Weeping happy tears of joy!

{my heritage forever}

It's safe to say that our boys don't read my blog.  *grin*
Except, of course, when I drag them over to read an occasional entry (like their annual birthday posts).
So I don't think I'm living too recklessly by posting pictures of a little project we've got going for our firstborn's graduation.
You'll keep the secret with me, right?

At the beginning of the school year, I purchased a journaling Bible with our son's name engraved upon the front cover.  Periodically throughout the school year, my husband and I have taken turns writing notes, prayers, and insights in the margins.  These are personal notes of application; heartfelt prayers of surrender; lessons that God is teaching Drew's dad and me.  I'm assuming that, like the book of letters we gave each of our sons on their 13th birthdays, it's a gift that will only grow in value and meaning over the years.  I, for one, was in tears this morning as I read some of my husband's thoughts for his firstborn son preparing to leave home.  And as I added additional thoughts today, I was struck by the way God was using His Word to unite us; to prepare my heart in this new season and minister to it as only He can.

"How can a young man keep his way pure?
By guarding it according to Your Word.
With my whole heart I seek You;
let me not wander from Your commandments!
I have stored up Your Word in my heart,
that I might not sin against You.  
Blessed are You, O Lord;
teach me Your statutes!
With my lips I declare
all the rules of Your mouth.
In the way of your testimonies I delight
as much as in all riches.
I meditate on Your precepts
and fix my eyes on Your ways.
I will delight in Your statutes;
I will not forget Your Word."
Psalm 119:9-16

{"Your testimonies are my heritage forever, 

for they are the joy of my heart."}

Psalm 119:111

{i wanna be just like you}

These are sweet days indeed.  As we prepare for our firstborn's graduation party, I've been paging through photo albums, scanning favorite memories, and joyfully remembering so many snapshots in time.  I find myself often smiling upon discovery of photos I'd forgotten.  Each one triggers treasured memories.

March 1995.  It was just over 18 years ago that my husband and I, snuggling our newborn son in our arms, brought him to the front of the sanctuary of our church.  There, standing before our family, church family, and God, we dedicated ourselves to raising our son in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.  We were young yet hopeful.  As first time parents, we had yet to learn how very little we knew.  What we did know was that we needed Jesus, and we desperately wanted Him to use us in our son's life; to capture our hearts first and foremost so that we could be setting the pace for our son to follow after Jesus with everything.

Following the pastor's prayer of dedication that day, our friend sang the following song.  The words have rung in my heart loudly throughout the years, reminding me of our goal and our mission.  Eighteen years since our firstborn's dedication, I look at him and marvel.  My heart whispers forth thanks.  There have certainly been times (many of them) when I've blown it and been anything but like Jesus; times when I've lost my temper, responded in selfishness, and simply dropped the ball.  Yet somehow, despite our inadequacies, failures, and sins, God has abundantly, faithfully, extravagantly poured out His grace.  As much as I was aware all those years ago that God was using us---sinful parents---to somehow impact our son and point him to Jesus, I had little knowledge of how much He'd use our son to impact our lives and direct our eyes to Him.

{april 1}

Easter 2013

It's April 1, and rather than my mind pondering witty pranks to pull on my guys, my heart is a blur of numerous other thoughts:

1).  It's April 1.  Our firstborn graduates next month.
2).  College.  In two weeks, we should receive word from his college of choice regarding his acceptance.  The waiting and questions of the past several months will be over as God continues to reveal His plan and lead through his next steps.
3).  His graduation party.  I've been dreaming and planning and taking notes for months---well, really for the last 10 years.  We used to get in the van after attending graduation parties of our former students, and I'd pose the question to our boys:  "So, do you know what you wanna serve at your graduation party yet?"  I remember Drew answering, "Mom, I'm only 8!"  What can I say?  I'm a planner.  :)
4).  Passing milestones, holidays, "lasts."  These months leading up to "launch," overflowing with so many bittersweet moments.  I'm just trying to take snapshots of each one; to tuck away each and every moment in my heart for safe-keeping.
5).  Son #2 applying for his first job.  Need I say more?
6). This back pain.  I've had intense, debilitating back pain for the past week.  Jon is trying to get me to go to the chiropractor or doctor.  I, however, pride myself on being tough---too tough sometimes, I suppose.  Oh, and if you're reading this, would you please pray for me?
7).  Weddings.  Lots and lots of weddings.  One of my favorite things in life is getting to work side by side with my husband in offering premarital counseling to so many young couples that we deeply love.  And then there's the culmination of all the forthcoming weddings, and better yet, marriages!  Our next wedding is next weekend, and then this summer, Jon is officiating at 5 weddings in 9 weeks.  Such an incredibly fun season of witnessing God establish new homes rooted in Him!

Add to the above bats and fender benders and rising insurance costs and school tuition---all to which I choose not to give much thought. Actually, given to my own flesh, all these things and more would threaten to consume me, 'cause it can be overwhelming, you know?  But God has regularly been taking me back to Scripture, impressing Truth on my heart.  And when my mind wanders and dwells on stuff other than His faithfulness and provision, He's gracious to call me back and lift my eyes to His.  Lately I'm especially grateful for Exodus 14:14.  I love the way God uses specific passages for specific times in life---precious promises and admonishments to which we can cling and find hope:

"The Lord will fight for you, you have only to be silent."

I can stop my fighting, my striving, my agonizing, my controlling, for as Moses reminded the Israelites when life pressed in on them from all sides, the Lord will fight for us.  Throughout changing days and seasons, new experiences, firsts and lasts, unexpected news, unknown futures, and just plain hard stuff, we have this steady, unchanging, faithful God who goes before us.  We're safe.  He's got this.  We simply need to rest---to trust---and let Him be God.

The Precious Blood

Blessed Lord Jesus,
Before thy cross I kneel and see
the heinousness of my sin,
my iniquity that caused thee to be
'made a curse,'
the evil that excites the severity
of divine wrath.
Show me the enormity of my guilt by
the crown of thorns,
the pierced hands and feet,
the bruised body,
the dying cries.
The blood is the blood of incarnate God,
its worth infinite, its value beyond all thought.
Infinite must be the evil and guilt
that demands such a price.
Sin is my malady, my monster, my foe, my viper,
born in my birth,
alive in my life,
strong in my character,
dominating my faculties,
following me as a shadow,
intermingling with my every thought,
my chain that holds me captive in the
empire of my soul.
Sinner that I am, why should the sun give me light,
the air supply breath,
the earth bear my trad,
its fruits nourish me,
its creatures subserve my ends?
Yet thy compassions yearn over me,
thy heart hastens to my rescue,
thy love endured my curse,
thy mercy bore my deserved stripes.
Let me walk humbly in the lowest depths
of humiliation,
bathed in thy blood,
tender of conscience,
triumphing gloriously as an heir of salvation.

(from "The Valley of Vision:  A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions")

{kids & church}

One Sunday morning, just a few years back :) ~ 2006

On occasion, friends have asked me how to get their kids to love church.  I'm always hesitant to answer, as with three sons (ages 18, 16, and 13) who have grown up loving the church, I'm fully aware that our parenting journey is not yet over.  Any desire in them for the things of God is only by His grace, and it's that same grace and mercy we're dependent upon as we move forward.

Even now, with three teenagers, I've never---not once---had a son balk or fight or resist going to church.  Obviously, church attendance alone is not indicative of one's heart condition before a holy God.  But at the same time, their hunger and desire to be with the people of God, to hear His Word taught, to love and to serve those around them can be a small indication of what's happening inside.  Our sons are by no means perfect---nor are their parents.  So how do we, sinful parents, go about modeling and inspiring our sinful children to love and yearn for the corporate teaching of God's Word?  To be accountable to a body of believers?  To love and treasure their church family?  Here are just a few simple things God impressed on our hearts over the years.  He was faithful to invest these small acts to soften and prepare our sons' hearts.  It's all Him.

1).  Church attendance is non-negotiable.  Our sons never heard us discussing whether or not we felt like going or looking for some excuse not to go.  Obviously, being in full-time ministry in the local church, you could make the argument that we have to be there.  It's my husband's job.  But more than a requirement, it is one of our core values.  Sunday is the most treasured day of the week, and all else falls in line behind it.  This is not some legalistic rule, rather a principle that shows us living what we say we believe.  Afterall, if Christ loves the Church, shouldn't we?  He loved her and gave Himself up for her.  I fully believe that if we begin making concessions---reasons why we don't need to attend this week---when our kids are small, they'll be looking to make greater concessions in greater frequency when they're older.  What are we modeling, mamas?  (Hebrews 10:24-25)

2).  "We get to."  As mentioned, my husband is a pastor.  Our church has multiple services on a Sunday, which means that for more than 15 years (the bulk of our parenting), he's had to arrive at church earlier than the rest of us.  That left me alone to get three little boys ready by myself.  From their youngest days, when I'd go into their rooms to wake them in the morning, I'd lovingly wake them and excitedly declare, "It's Sunday!  We get to go to church today!"  It was never we "have" to go to church today.  Nope.  We get to.  And I believe that the God-given wisdom in that choice of word had a profound impact upon our sons.  It was never a chore.  Never an obligation.  Always a glad, happy privilege.  (Psalm 122:1)

3).  Prepare bodies and hearts.  Like I said, I was flying solo on Sunday mornings, so I desperately needed a proactive approach.  As much as you're able, prepare on Saturday nights.  Take baths.  Lay out clothes.  Search for missing shoes.  And as I've shared before, crank up the worship music.  Once your kids are old enough, let them be responsible for choosing it.  Even if you are still searching for that missing shoe, the truth of God's Word being funneled into your heart will give you perspective, till up the soil, and put your focus where it needs to be.  Oh, and you'll probably find yourself singing worship music all the way to church, too!  Off-key and all, it's a joyful noise!  (Colossians 3:16)

4).  Teach them to listen and engage.  I'm thankful that we have children's programming at church---opportunities for our kids to hear about Jesus' love and holiness at a level they can understand; opportunities to forge lasting friendships.  However, once our boys outgrew the kids' programs and began sitting through the services (particularly the Sunday evening services), we trained them to listen.  "Yes, Son, you can draw, but you must draw pictures of what our pastor is talking about."  One of my greatest treasures is the page of "notes" our son, Ryan, took at one Sunday evening service.  He was such a little guy, yet I was awed and amazed at all that he was able to take in and understand.  (Hebrews 4:12)

5).  Prepare them for what's ahead.  Is there a special conference this weekend?  A visiting missionary?  A special offering?  A baby dedication?  A sick family member?  Talk and pray about all these things.  Make sure your kids know they're a part of this body of believers---give them the courtesy of telling them what makes today "special" in the life of your church family.

6).  Serve.  From the time they're old enough, get your kids plugged in to service.  For our boys, this meant  being a helper in childcare during Sunday evening services.  They learned to give of themselves; to grow in responsibility because someone else was counting on them to show up; to discover their God-given talents for loving and playing and rolling around on the floor with children.  As they got a bit older, one got involved on worship teams; another in tech ministries.  Our church excels in integrating kids into the church at large---not serving only in youth group, but being a part of what is happening in the church on the whole.  Our kids are, afterall, not only the church of tomorrow.  They're the church of today.  (Psalm 100:2)

7).  Love and revere God on every other day in between.  Loving God is not just one day a week.  It's not reserved for a brief few hours on Sunday morning.  Loving Him and holding Him high should be our pursuit seven days a week!  Our kids want---our kids NEED---to see the power of the gospel in you and me!  They don't need perfect parents, but they do need sinful parents transformed by the Holy Spirit; parents who humbly admit when they're wrong; who are increasingly growing in grace and truth.  Fellow mamas, you and I need to love the teaching and exposition of the Word!  Be glad to live and do what it says! Love and serve those in your path (and strategize ways to love those whose lives you might not ordinarily cross)!  Our kids want to see the transforming power of the cross in you and me.  (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)

Oh, that our children might continue to grow in their understanding of Christ's love for His Church!  May they value and treasure it as He does.  And may we be out there ahead of them, gladly leading the way and setting the pace.

{thinking about goodbye...again}

I've started this blog entry half a dozen times in the past 36 hours.
Each time I rethink and delete it,
realizing how incredibly selfish it sounds (and is).

It just seems, though, that we've been in a seemingly endless season of goodbyes throughout recent years.
And my heart aches,
as I realize that this isn't likely to change anytime soon.

Now it comes again---
dear friends moving away---
and I'm tempted to throw in the towel;
to give up on friendship and loving and opening up my heart.
For when you love much, you hurt much.

Yet somehow God uses this dissatisfaction,
this all-too-familiar ache,
to lift my gaze to His;
to remind me that we weren't made for this world.

As good as it is to love and to be loved,
as sweet as the stuff of life can be,
sometimes it distracts me from my longing for Him;
for heaven.
I find my joy and satisfaction in what is temporary.
Fleeting.

As Jesus was preparing his friends for "goodbye,"
He spoke to them with these beautiful words of truth and hope:

"Let not your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God; believe also in me.  In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, that where I am you may be also."  John 14:1-3

Apart, yet united,
separated, yet close---
we await that eternal inheritance.
Together we long and wait for that beautiful home God is preparing just for us---
the place where they'll be no more heartache or illness or tears or goodbyes;
the place where together we'll worship Him forevermore.

Hard farewells, temporary distance, aching hearts, and all,
I'm thankful for precious friends in this life who love, challenge, and inspire me to walk with Jesus.
And I'm thankful that we share the promise of eternity---
that one day, we'll all be Home where we belong.

[let love be genuine]

"Let love be genuine.

Abhor what is evil;

hold fast to what is good.

Love one another with brotherly affection.

Outdo one another in showing honor.

Do not be slothful in zeal,

be fervent in spirit,

serve the Lord.

Rejoice in hope,

be patient in tribulation,

be constant in prayer.

Contribute to the needs of the saints

and seek to show hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you;

bless and do not curse them.

Rejoice with those who rejoice,

weep with those who weep

Live in harmony with one another.

Romans 12:9-16a

[don't give way to fear]

Sometimes I look at life and feel...
well, overwhelmed.
Left to my own devices and my own flesh,
I can whine about a lengthy (and as I often rationalize, legitimate) list of reasons to fret and fear.
You probably have a list all your own.

I'm thankful that God so personally knows
my heart,
my leanings,
and my weaknesses.
Before I was ever made,
He anticipated the things that would make my heart soar and the things that would send me into a tailspin.
He knew, friends, that we'd be afraid sometimes.

And so He gave us Sarah.
Beautiful, imperfect, faith-filled Sarah.

If ever there was one who related to our fears,
it was her.

Take a look at her life in Genesis 12-23.
She longed for a baby (and that dream seemed hopeless until she was an elderly woman).
She followed her husband to an unknown place (even when his decisions were sometimes less than wise).
Her family dealt with conflict and confrontation (even when following God to the place where He was showing them).

It seems like her list of fears was lengthy.
Giving birth in her nineties?
Scary.
Settling in an unfamiliar place where she knew no one?
Yep, scary, too.
Following, trusting, and submitting to this man she likely felt like throttling at times?
Mmm-hmm.

And yet, she did not allow her fears to control her.
She trusted God.

Peter admonished us in 1 Peter 3 to let our beauty be not only external, but "the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious.  For this is how the holy women who hoped in God used to adorn themselves, by submitting to their own husbands, as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord.  And you are her children, if you do good and do not fear anything that is frightening."  1 Peter 3:4-6

Scripture says we're Sarah's daughters if we do what is right and don't give way to fear.
I don't know about you,
but that little nugget inspires me.
I'm so glad God included it.
Because it indicates that Sarah was like me.
She knew all about fear.
Yet even when the pieces didn't add up,
even when there were loads of unknowns,
she wasn't paralyzed by fear.
She didn't collapse beneath it.
She trusted God and did what He called her to do.
And we are her daughters if we do the same.

He can be trusted, dear ones.
As we bring our heart-gripping fears before Him in faith,
He replaces them with peace, security, and sweet rest.
He knows just what we need.
And He'll be faithful to strengthen, help, and uphold us no matter what looms ahead.

"Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times in every way.  

The Lord be with you all."

2 Thessalonians 3:16

Year's End

I've often shared quotes or entire prayers from The Valley of Vision:  A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions.  If you don't yet have a copy, I encourage you to get one. I assure you, you'll love it! I use this little book as a companion in my quiet times, and God has used it in profound ways to prepare and convict my heart.  This prayer, entitled "Year's End," has been on my heart over the last days.  It seems an appropriate response to yesterday's post.  So let it be.

O LOVE BEYOND COMPARE,
Thou art good when thou givest,
when thou takest away,
when the sun shines upon me,
when night gathers over me.

Thou hast loved me before
the foundation of the world,
and in love didst redeem my soul;
Thou dost love me still,
in spite of my hard heart, ingratitude, distrust.

Thy goodness has been with me
during another year,
leading me through a twisting wilderness,
in retreat helping me to advance,
when beaten back making sure headway.

Thy goodness will be with me in the year ahead;
I hoist sail and draw up anchor,
with thee as the blessed Pilot of my future
as of my past.

I bless thee that thou hast veiled my eyes
to the waters ahead.
If thou hast appointed storms of tribulation,
thou wilt be with me in them;
If I have to pass through tempests of persecution
and temptation,
I shall not drown;
If I am to die,
I shall see thy face the sooner;
If a painful end is to be my lot,
grant me grace that my faith fail not;
If I am to be cast aside from the service I love,
I can make no stipulation;
Only glorify thyself in me whether in comfort or trial,
as a chosen vessel meet always for thy use.