Learning to Hold Things Loosely

The banner I feel like the Lord is holding over this current season of my life right now is “Learning to hold things loosely.”

I realized my need for this lesson during Christmas. I had been gifted an unexpected gift card and in the midst of waves of wrapping paper and opened boxes and trying to keep Claire from eating all the tissue paper in sight, I started picking all the packaging up from the floor and stuffing it into a garbage bag. And somewhere in that process, I never saw the gift card again.

When I realized it, I found myself upset and emotionally affected by the occasion. In my head, I could rationalize: I am no worse off than I was before I received it; I don’t need it; everything is really God’s and I am but a steward.

But the truth is that all that rang empty at the moment. I knew those things in my mind, but it was obvious my heart didn’t follow suit. My heart still was frustrated and upset about losing it, even when I knew I shouldn’t be because in the grand scheme of things, it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Yet, in my heart, it still was a big deal.

And it was in that flurry of emotions that I felt the Lord nudge me toward this idea of learning to hold things loosely.

I’d heard that phrase many times over the past decade in my walk as a Christian. That idea of letting control over to God, not holding fast to the things of this world but instead to the things eternal. I’d heard it and could nod along with it and understand it, but it had never really struck me as it did right now, in that moment.

In that moment I realized my need for that ability to hold things loosely, to allow things–material things, stressful things, frustrating things, my sense of convenience, etc.–sift through my fingers like sand rather than clench them in my fist, trying to hold them for myself.

I began to see, mostly through my emotions, how much of a burden the alternative can cause me. How it makes me stress over things that really don’t matter and start to believe all sorts of lies about myself, the world and God, and how it makes me feel doomed and discouraged and just downright disgusted.

Though I saw that, I felt myself resisting in turning things over to God, to give him the freedom to take things away from me, to trust that he can fill in the gaps or multiply the loaves without me having to hold fast to every last crumb. I can let go and watch him provide, one way or another.

It can be a scary thing to let go to God, no matter how long you’ve been a Christian and how many miracles you’ve seen him work. I wrestled with it and pleaded that he would not yank everything from me and force me to loosen my grip, but that he would work this lesson into my heart gently, gradually, softly and sweetly.

What a compassionate Father that he would heed that scared little prayer of mine. Since that revelatory Christmas morning, he has been so sweet and gentle in teaching me this lesson, in stretching me in the smallest of ways, like you might stretch a balloon before blowing air into it. A small stretch at first, another tug later, another and then another until it’s ready to withstand the surge of air that gives life to its flimsy body.

I can feel his puffs entering into me. I can feel the small stretches that tug at my heart. I can see him fulfilling each one, showing me that it isn’t so bad, that I really can trust him, that I really can loosen my grip and watch him and his love flourish in that loosening.

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God's Grace Flourishes in Our Vulnerability

As any mom—and I’d even wager any babysitter—knows, taking care of a baby isn’t for the faint of heart. It is rough and tough business that hit me like a ton of bricks when I had my first baby. I had no idea a person as small as she could sleep so little and still manage to cry as much as she did. At times, I even joined in with my daughter in her crying spells when nothing else was working.

Those early weeks were nothing less than brutal, leaving me weak, weary and brittle, on edge of breaking.

When my daughter was two-months-old, our church threw a baby shower for the latest round of new or soon-to-be-expecting moms in the congregation. I was among them and toward the end of the luncheon, each of us were supposed to share how our journey was going, whether it was pregnancy or parenthood, and some prayer requests.

Early on, I’d committed myself to try not to complain about my daughter. I wanted to be honest about how hard things were going but I didn’t want to whine about it or make her out to be a foe. So when it came to my turn, I started off positively enough and asked for prayer for me to submit myself to this process of parenthood and learning self-sacrifice, which is what I felt the Lord was urging from me at the time.

And as I asked for that simple prayer, I couldn’t help it but the tears came. They came, they poured. Even though I’d spent plenty of time crying on my own at home, I hadn’t cried in public before. So when the chance came, the tears flowed and I couldn’t stop them until I shared the truth.

With them streaming down my cheeks, I couldn’t deny how very hard things were as a new mom. Raw with honesty, I shared through those tears how hard it was being a new mom. And through those tears, I began to see God work.

When I was done, other moms in the room came up to me, tears in their own eyes and told me they knew exactly how I felt. Other women who were pregnant with their first told me that they appreciated my honesty because it provided them a much-needed reality check that things might not be all as the commercials portray with a newborn.

But the biggest blessing that came from those tears became evident when I went home. Because once I admitted my hardship in the midst of so many other women and asked, so sincerely, so desperately for prayers, things actually started getting better: My daughter started to fight her sleep less, even going to sleep on her own. She began crying less. It was nothing short of a miracle.

It’s something I’ve seen over and over again in my life: God’s grace flourishes in our vulnerability. When I’m willing to let my guard down and admit my weakness, admit my need, admit my struggles before my fellow man, it is then that I oftentimes see God at work the most. Like James 5:16 says, I think there’s power in confession, whether it’s confessing your sins like that verse says or even confessing the truth about our circumstances and our needs, like I did that afternoon in the chapel of our church when I let the tears fall before a couple dozen women.

"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds." John 12:24

This article first appeared on iBelieve on July 26, 2013.

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Me and Sanctification: A Love/Hate Relationship

I have a love/hate relationship with sanctification.

(If you’re wondering about “sanctification,” here's an in-my-own-words definition: It’s basically the life-long process that the Lord walks us through where he makes us more like Him, day by day, struggle by struggle, learning point by learning point. It’s basically learning to live our faith out through that whole fear and trembling thing.)

The thing is, when I look at all the moments that have sanctified my heart up to this point, I love it. In hindsight, I can see how God was lovingly chiseling and melting and molding my heart when he walked me through some of those hardest points in my life. There were times when I cried and wondered how I was ever going to make it through. Times that left me flabbergasted and shocked at what the Lord was letting happen. There were times when I found myself on me knees again and again, praying and pleading for a certain prayer, which felt like it was never going to be answered.

And yet, in every one of those situations, I was able to walk through and watch them get resolved. I saw the Lord work in every single one of them and truly bring beauty to each one, even those piled up with ashes. I saw him answer my prayers in ways more wonderful than I could have ever anticipated. I saw him teach me about stepping out in true faith when answers took longer to come by. I saw him take care of me and bring blessing and never let me falter. I saw him always act, always love, always be there for me.

But when I’m in the midst of those places? When I’m in those deep, dark times when I’m being stretched and feel splintered and scarred and scared? When I’m in the throes of those hard times—the ones that sanctify us the most, the “refiner’s fire” that we sing about—I hate the process. I try to wriggle free of it. I hate it because it’s hard. Even though I know in my head that it’s all going to work out, that God is going to take care of me, that God is true to his promises and will never fail me, I still wrestle through the hard times.

The thing is, those hard times are always going to keep coming, no matter how much I love them or hate them. They are a part of this life that Jesus has promised to us. The key is for me to remember that the hard part is only but a season. The fruits that grow from it, though, are sweet and will flourish without end as they prove to make me more and more like him, one day, one struggle at a time.

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Letting Go the Grip of Comparison in Motherhood and Discovering Grace

I wrote about the epiphany I had about the bitterness my heart had been harboring toward the suffering I’d experienced when Claire was a newborn and the jealousy I had toward women who were blessed with “easy” babies who slept and didn’t cry and were happy from the get-go. I wrote about how, upon realizing this place of bitterness seeded in my heart, I knew I could only do one thing with it: I needed to confess it. And upon doing so, I wrote about how the Lord proved himself faithful in that room as we each poured out confessions about the ugly parts in our hearts.

On the drive home afterward, I thought about this tendency of ours to compare ourselves to one another. Because we do it when we feel others have it better than us. But we also do it when we feel others have it worse than us. Sometimes we can justify the latter because it is supposed to make us feel grateful—that things could be worse for us. And surely they could. But, as I rounded the bend onto the highway, I realized I don’t even want to do that.

I realized I needed to release this urge to compare completely, because when I did it, it was always in a way that always ended up looking back upon myself: I would look at others’ good and see my own hardship. I would look at others’ hardship, and see my own good. Instead of it being about others or God, it was always about me. And that’s where the bitterness crept in, that’s where things turned ugly.

As I increased speed, I thought back to the stories we have of Satan, the one who takes truths and twists them. And I realize that is what he has been doing to me. These stories of people who have easy children should be source for me to celebrate, to see God's goodness and be encouraged. Even though I did not experience that for myself does not mean it is any less good. I must untwist that lie that makes me think that their experience is an attack on me and straighten it to see the beauty in it. Because if we untwist it, we can always see the goodness that lies beneath. Because in this world, God is always doing good. We must just sometimes have to work harder to find and see that.

The truth is that when others have gone through good, I want to rejoice with them. There is freedom in rejoicing with them. I want to look at those stories and--instead of seeing my own lack, my own I-wish-that-would-have-been-mine story--I want to see the joy of it, the hope.

When I hear someone say, "My child sleeps half the day away, without any effort on my part," I want to say, "Wow, what a miracle! God is good! He can do great things!" Because since that was not my reality, that truly is a miracle in my eyes.

As I realized those things, I felt God straightening things in my heart, untwisting the lies I’d been believing, the tangled lies where bitterness and jealousy lay. Joy, real joy, began to creep into my heart. I thought of the women I know whom I'd previously harbored jealousy for in regards to the way their newborn experiences were. I thought of them and, for the first time, I felt a sense of peace. I felt freedom from comparing myself to them. I could smile for them and say, "Wow, what a miracle. God is good."

I drove the rest of the way home and my heart felt light but full. It felt free.

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Hello, I’m a Mom and I’m Jealous of You

I’ve written a lot about what a struggle Claire’s infancy was for me, dealing with a baby who was constantly demanding with cries and forever fighting sleep. She never seemed happy and frankly, neither was I much of the time.

I’ve also written that the Lord has done a lot of healing since then in these past months. Things with her have gotten so much better. She is an incredible joy and she seems to be making up for all the happiness that seemed lacking at first. She practically bursts with joy! And it isn’t just that my circumstances have changed, though the relief that has come with that has been a balm to my soul. But I can even look back and be grateful for the hardship I went through during Claire's infancy and be proud of how the Lord sustained me, proud of how he saw fit to give me that struggle and knew I could withstand it. I can honestly say those things now. I mean them.

But recently, I realized that in spite of my ability to feel grateful, I was still harboring bitterness about all I’d gone through. I realized this when I heard other moms talk about how easy their children were, how they were sleeping through the night effortlessly or barely cried and were always content. My jaw would drop, unable to imagine those scenarios. And then a bitterness, a jealousy would well up within me.

Because it felt wholly unfair that they would not have to suffer as I suffered. Wasn’t that part of the newborn experience? Wasn’t that the kind of initiation every mother should have to go through—at least to some degree? I would never wish my experience on anyone else, but come on—just a little?

Misery loves company, and I am sad to say that it was true even for me. I did not want to be alone in my suffering, even though it is now fully in the past. I resented that others were allowed to skip over that. To try to pacify myself, I’d whisper, “Well, someday they’ll suffer. When the child is a toddler or a teenager, then they’ll know hard times. Someday they’ll suffer like I did.”

I realized this, and I knew that I needed to repent of it. Though I’d been feeling these things for months, I hadn’t yet named them, I hadn’t realized that they came from a place of bitterness and jealousy. “Confess your sins and pray for one another and you will be healed,” the book of James says. I truly believe that, and so at that moment, I resolved to confess them at my weekly Bible study.

So a few days later, when the time came, I was at our Bible study. The teacher was wrapping up her lesson just before we broke into our small groups and she finished the lesson by talking about the importance of confession. With that, I knew it was God confirming that he wanted me to do this. He pressed onto my heart that I should make my confession first thing, rather than waiting until the end when we go around and do prayer requests.

When I walked into our small-group room, there was a new face in there. She was a woman I’d met before but who didn’t yet know my heart in the same way all the other women in my group did. I hesitated. But then I remembered another verse: “If you love me, obey me.”

So when the leader nonchalantly asked me how my week had been, I opened up and told them I needed to make a confession before them all, in hopes that God would be faithful to his scriptures and bring healing to this place in my heart. Then, the words spilled out and I confessed this ugly place in my heart.

When I was done, everyone else opened up in confession about the ugly things that were going on—right now, this moment—in their lives that they knew needed confession as well. And you know what? They were all about jealousy, about looking at other people’s circumstances and feeling slighted because theirs were better than their own.

It was proof that God had orchestrated all of this. Beautiful, peace-giving, lovely proof. And so I had to trust that what he had begun, he would finish. That he would bring this healing he had promised in His word. I knew the confession was something he wanted of me, and so I had to trust the healing would come. For me, for each of us. And we each left there feeling a little more free, a little closer to each other and a little closer to Him.

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Why I Didn't Pick "One Little Word" For the New Year (But What I'm Doing Instead)

A year is a long time. A year ago, I was still in the ignorance-is-bliss stage of expectant motherhood, with three months to go before I was to give birth to Claire. A lot can happen in a year.

And so, when I read about people selecting and choosing a single word to hang as a banner over the coming year, at first I find it beautiful, the idealism of it all. But then I remember how long a year is, and I find it overwhelming. For me, right now in this season that is ever changing, it seems too much. Committing to living out a single word for an entire year just seems too much, no matter how beautiful it seems right now, with the rush of the holidays just boxed up and a calendar full of pages spread before us.

No, right now, I find I must live in seasons. While committing to a whole year seems daunting, committing to a lesson for a single season seems right for me, whether that season lasts a week, a month or a decade.

So while others are picking and plucking a single word to hang over this coming year, I am settling on a single idea to hang over this current season of mine. And right now, for me, it is this: Learning to hold things loosely.

(Written on paper, it sounds idealistic, too, doesn't it?)

And yet, for me, it feels right. Right now I feel the Lord pulling me to loosen my grip on things: money, possessions, frugality, circumstances, stress, people's reactions, emotions.

They are the things I must stop trying to control, stop trying to cling to. And so, I must learn to hold them loosely. I must learn how to wield them without letting them turn and end up wielding me instead.

Already, only days into the new year and this new lesson of mine, I can feel the Lord working, the Lord helping me let go of some of these things that would have previously riled me up and rang emotion out of me and given me nothing but stress.

It is not one single word for a single year, but it is what the Lord is calling me to right now. It is the banner that he is lifting over this season of mine. And that is beautiful.

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My 3 New Favorite Study Bibles

I’ve found that one of the key elements when it comes to reading through and understanding the Bible has been to have a good study Bible that is filled with helpful footnotes, explanations and cross-references. (Here's a review of the study Bible I use, as well as a review of the study Bible that my husband uses.)

This past year, I got the chance to receive a handful of study Bibles to add into my quiet times, so that I could share my thoughts and experiences with you this year. There are a ton of different study Bibles out there, and my hope is that by getting to compare a couple, you might be able to find the perfect one for you (or at the very least, a good addition to your Bible-study library!).

Here's a look at three of the new study Bibles that I got to try out this year that I loved the best:

Chronological Life Application Study Bible (NLT): I have always wanted a study Bible like this, particularly after doing my chronological Bible reading plan for the two previous years. Essentially, the entire Bible is organized in a chronological pattern based on the order the events are believed to happen (rather than the order they were written or recorded). This is especially helpful when reading things like the Gospel accounts about Jesus, to see side-by-side how the different writers recorded Jesus' sayings and actions.

Interspersed throughout are really in-depth profiles, illustrations and explanations about things like specific characters (Hezekiah), places (Solomon's temple) or even just interesting details, such a photograph of the Appian Way, a main highway during the days of Paul that he likely traveled. It pulls in lots of archeological facts, information, full-color photographs and maps that really help you wrap your head around the history of it all. (I should point out that I loved the fact that this Bible was printed in full color; the pages are heavier to accommodate that, so you don't feel like you're going to rip them with every turn.)

Then, along the top of the pages runs a timeline, showing you during what Biblical "era" (such as during the Birth of Israel or its Exile or once its Return & Diaspora) the section you are reading occurred. Finally, as with any study Bible, littered along the bottom of the pages are specific insights about specific verses. It is not exhaustive—there were still times I was left wondering about what a certain passage meant—but it is very helpful.

The biggest drawback is that it is not a Bible friendly to flipping through (so probably not good for Sunday morning services unless you'll only be staying in one spot in Scripture); the passages are scattered about depending on the chronology so it's harder to locate a passage without going to the directory in the front of the Bible. That being said, I loved this Bible (it was my hands-down favorite of the three) and think it is incredibly handy and insightful for bringing the historical and cultural elements of the Bible to life during your daily quiet times.

NIV Essentials Study Bible: This Bible takes six different resources (the NIV's Study Bible, Quest Study Bible, Archaelogical Study Bible, Student Bible, Great Rescue Bible, and Essential Bible Companion) and weaves them together to utilize the best of each one. There are built-in devotional sections that prompt you to "Reflect and Respond," pulled from The Great Rescue Bible. Or a section answering hard questions like, "Does God Choose Some People and Reject Others?" that comes from the Quest Study Bible. There are character profiles, maps, and archaeological insights, as well as your standard study-Bible call-outs for specific Scriptures at the bottom of every page.

Even though it pulls from all these different resources, it doesn't pull everything from each one; so it isn't exhaustive and you'd still likely find yourself wanting to purchase one of the specific ones to get it's full benefit. That being said, if you don't know what kind of study Bible you want, this can be useful to gauge that or simply to provide a variety to your studies. I do think it provides more in-depth info and call-outs than your standard study Bible, making it a solid resource.

Compass: The Study Bible for Navigating Your Life: This is the "lightest" of the study Bibles and I don't know that I would really call it a study Bible, in the truest sense; there aren't the call-outs running along the bottom of the pages that you would typically be expecting. Instead, the call-outs are integrated into the text. That is what sets this Bible apart and what made me really like it: They collaborated not only with Biblical scholars but also writers and artists to create a Bible translation ("The Voice") that is written in a way that translates not only word for word but also the tone of voice and intentions of the original text.

So sometimes a word may not be in the original text and would have been implied, but in our modern texts we'd leave it out since it wasn't there; The Voice will add it back in to aid comprehension, but in italics so that you're aware of the addition. I found that this really did help me understand a text, in context, without having to jump around or stop to read footnotes.

Another element of The Voice is that any dialogue is written in screenplay format that identifies the speaker but then eliminates the repetition of things like "then he said" that can clutter up a text. It took some getting used to, but I did find it made larger dialogue texts much easier to follow along with. Finally, they integrate additional explanatory text into the text as sidebars; so for example, in Proverbs, there's a call-out that explains that many of the proverbs are written in a Hebrew poetic form known as parallelism.

At first I didn't think I would like how everything was integrated into the text directly, but I have found that it really does make reading and understanding the text much easier when you don't have to jump around for explanations and insights. The only drawback is that other study Bibles (such as the other two I've reviewed here) are able to incorporate more information and details. Still, I oftentimes find myself reaching for this one first when I'm reading a text to get a really solid understanding of the text first, and then using the others to provide additional insights that bring the text to life even more.

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My Busy-Mom Bible Study Plans for 2014

Last year when I started my own Bible study plan I had good intentions. The goal was to slow down and go through specific scriptures at a more indepth pace so that I could really get to know the passages. However, the truth of the matter is that with so many distractions at my fingertips—from a crying then crawling baby to a big cross-country move—this approach made it all too easy for me to slack off or ignore daily quiet times entirely.

Fortunately, once I moved and we found a new church, I was able to join a women's Bible study. I discovered that the structure and accountability that this Bible study offered me is especially important in the season now with Claire. Every week, we work through a workbook of questions on particular passages and then we meet together to discuss those portions. Knowing that I had to report back to them every week really challenged me to make sure that I completed each section of scripture entirely. Also, the guided questions helped me stay on track during the short bursts of time I had available in the midst of watching and parenting Claire when it would otherwise be too easily to skim through and shut my Bible without digging in deeper.

Fortunately, this coming year are Bible study will continue. We've already decided that we will be studying the book of Judges. So that will guide my Bible study efforts for the first part of the year. And I've already decided that during the times when our group is taking a break, to work my way through similar Bible study workbooks (similar to the ones by Beth Moore or Priscilla Shirer that I've completed in the past). I find that right now I need those kinds of prompts to help me stay focused and really dig into scripture. It's all too easy to get distracted. (By the way, if you have any workbooks like this that you'd recommend for solo use, please let me know!)

I've also asked my husband if he'll watch Claire for me for 20 minutes or so each morning so that I can intentionally study the Word in this way. There's plenty of accountability in this, too, as I want to be faithful to the task, knowing that he's giving up his little free time to aid me in this endeavor. Sure, I could read during her naps or when she's playing independently, but I find that I get too easily distracted or pulled to take care of other tasks. This arrangement helps force me to seek out Scripture, and right now I think that's (sadly? honestly?) what I need: to force myself to dig in.

So for now, that is how I'm retooling my Bible study plans for this coming year: Taking advantage of the community and resources available to help maximize my efforts and time. Because let's face it, even though Claire is no longer crying and colicky, she is now crawling and cruising and getting into everything, which means that it's still hard to find large blocks of time to committed to Bible study. My lazy days of curling up on the couch with a hot mug of coffee in hand and casually spending an hour or so on Bible study feel long gone! But I know that God honors and multiplies our efforts and gives us grace in this season of our lives. So, I press on and learn from the past and look forward to what awaits in this new year of ours.

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The Only Resolution That Really Matters

Happy New Year! I hope the holidays treated you and your family well.

With this new year of ours oftentimes comes new plans and goals and all varieties of resolutions. While I’m not much of a resolution maker, one of the things that I have marked the new year with the past couple of years has been to use this fresh start to settle on a Bible reading plan that will guide me for the following months.

For a couple of years, I used a chronological Bible-reading plan that takes you through the Bible more or less in the order that the events written about are thought to have taken place. (For more on this chronological Bible-reading plan and to download a copy, go here.) The goal of this plan is to walk you through the Bible in a year, which makes it not for the faint hearted because it does require a considerable amount of dedication to sit down with your Bible for an hour or so a day.


But by reading events that are grouped together—say the Old Testament prophecies along with the historical records in Kings and Chronicles that explain what was going on at that time—I was able to really wrap my head around how all those stories and segments fit together and think that is by far the greatest strength in this reading plan.

Last year, though, I knew I was going to be more time-strapped, so I decided to slow down and really dig into different Scriptures and to linger with them longer than I was able to when reading through them for this previous plan. My aim was to pick a few books or topics that I could back up and chew on, slowly and intentionally. I pulled commentaries from the library and downloaded some online resources to get more perspectives on these writings. The goal for this slowed-down method of Bible study was to really know them.

Then, I had my baby and much of those good intentions flew out the window and I would grab scraps of Scripture here and there, whenever I could. Honestly, it was not especially fruitful and I am certain I could have been more disciplined and, after awhile, let my role as "a new mom" become an excuse at lazy Bible reading. Which is something I want to change when it comes to my Bible reading goals and plans for this coming year.



So, along that vein, I want to spend the next week or so exploring this discipline of Bible reading: I’ll be sharing some more Bible-study thoughts and resources, as well as more about my goals for my own Bible study plan for this coming year. Because I don't want to just my resolutions to be about losing weight or saving more or spending time better. I want to remember that which is most important: getting to know God better by committing to reading more of His Word.

Are you starting a new Bible reading plan this year? What kind of approach do you use for reading the Scriptures? I'd love to hear more in the comments!

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"Lift Your Hands to the Lord for the Lives of Your Children"

It was the middle of the night, when Claire awoke screaming.

When she was first born, everyone said I’d learn what her cries meant. I never was able to discern a “hungry” cry from a “wet” one from a “sleepy”one, but there was no mistaking this one: It was a cry that signaled distress, fear, terror. Shrill and clear, I knew it was a nightmare.

So I put my hand on her back, hoping that might comfort her. Still she cried. I sang a lullaby over her and rubbed her back. The cries did not stop. I whispered, “Shh, it’s okay,” in her ear. Still she cried. I picked her up and rocked her, hoping that would break the nighttime spell. But still she cried.

Having run out of my tried-and-true motherly tricks, I began to pray out loud over her, “Dear Lord, please…” As soon as those words fell from my lips, her cries ceased.

I held her in awe as she quietly nestled back against me.

The Lord didn’t even make me finish my prayer, which was going to be, “please heal her.” All he required was that I think to pray and begin to do it for my daughter. He wanted to heal her, to comfort her even more than I did. Even though it was something she wouldn’t remember when she awoke, even though there wasn’t really anything wrong with her. It still mattered to him.

But, it seems, that what mattered even more was my reaction. How would I respond? He wanted me to bring this to him. To watch him love my daughter.

I was recently reading in Parenting from the Overflow and she shared this verse that spoke so clearly of this encounter:

Pour out your heart like water before the presence of the Lord.

Lift your hands to Him for the lives of your children.

- Lamentations 2:19

I wish I would have thought to pray for her first, before going through all the other motions. But seeing how clearly nothing worked until I prayed, it amazed me even more. That love, that fatherly love for this small, spunky nine month old in a world filled with nine month olds. He stoops down to each one and comforts their little hearts, showing us all that Jesus really does love the little children of the world.

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"God Gives Gifts and I Give Thanks and I Unwrap the Gift Given: Joy"

In celebration of Thanksgiving, I have been thinking about those things for which I’m most grateful from this past year. In many ways, it has been a tough year for me. Perhaps a better word is “challenging.” I had a difficult pregnancy that landed me in the hospital unexpectedly, and then a labor that felt like it was never going to end. I had a baby who cried and didn't sleep for what felt like weeks on end. I felt alone caring for her. So, we moved across the country to find our "village," and for the past couple of months, my husband has been out of town during the week at training, only home on the weekends.

It has not been easy, but even in spite of those challenges, I have been careful to not lose sight that there is much for me to appreciate. Even in our suffering, there are things to be grateful for. I think that is a lesson I definitely learned this year. For even that, I am grateful.

Ann Voskamp in One Thousand Gifts posits that a life of joy and of a filling salvation comes when we learn to live a lifestyle of being grateful and thankful for every single thing God has gifted to us. Good, bad, big, little. We rejoice in it all.

Upon reading Philippians 4:11-12, where Paul writes, “I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation…”, Voskamp points readers to the fact that Paul had to learn these things. She realized that we must learn to live a life utterly thankful for all that God doles out. It does not come naturally.

So she decided to keep a list, to hone that sense of gratitude for the live that God has given. I love that idea, and while my efforts to keep my own running list have never made it more than a day or two, I still want to make an effort to see the beauty in this life of mine, the small acts of kindness God shows me, the redemption he brings to each and every one of those challenges.

“Gratitude for the seemingly insignificant—a seed—this plants the giant miracle," she writes. "The miracle of eucharisteo, like the Last Supper, is in the eating of crumbs, the swallowing down one mouthful. Do not disdain the small. The whole of the life—even the hard—is made up of the minute parts, and I miss the infinitesimals, I miss the whole. These are new language lessons, and I live them out.”

Learning to seek out an attitude of gratefulness in even the smallest of things matters. Because there are always small things for me to be thankful for, and I think that is one of the things that helped me through that season, that buoyed me and kept me afloat when it felt I was sinking. We need not wait for the big things to give thanks.

Today, I look at my life and, in contrast to where I've been, it seems so full. No, it is not ideal. But it is good, it is vibrant, it is beautiful. To me, at least. Even in its smallest places, even in the midst of the struggles.

So grateful, I am.

“Joy is always given, never grasped.
God gives gifts and I give thanks and I unwrap the gift given: joy.”

— Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

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A Barstool, a Bloody Nose, and a Step Closer to God

Now that Claire has learned to pull herself up and stand up, the world has become one big curiosity. Every ledge has the potential to expand her horizons, lifting her up to have a bigger perspective on this ever-changing world of hers. And so it is that at any given time, I'll turn around and she's hoisted herself up by clinging to a couch or a coffee table, sometimes a trashcan or a large toy.

This skill, though it has delighted her, has proved to make her world a bit more perilous. She doesn't yet understand that not everything is sturdy, not everything is meant to hold her up and, though it might for a moment, may not continue to do so.

She learned that lesson the other night when, while I was do some motherly multitasking, turned my back to her. She'd been contentedly playing with a toy piano. Then, I heard a thud and a screech of a scream. I turned around to see she'd left the piano in favor of a wooden barstool, which had evidently fallen on top of her when she pulled up to it.

I ran to her, lifted her, hugged her and rocked her. And then I saw a little stream of blood trickle from one nostril, then the other. As a new mom, it was a terribly scary moment for me and a million worst-case scenarios flew through my head.

Fortunately, within a minute, the blood had stopped and we settled her down. After phoning the family pediatrition and finding out that we probably didn't have anything to worry about since she hadn't bled "a lot," was able to nurse without trouble (and, consequently, breathe through her nose) and was acting normal.

Still, it was a really good bonk that left her pretty sore. So when I tried to put her down for bed, without fail, she'd end up rubbing her nose which would lead to more shrill cries. As I cradled her and tried to comfort her, I prayed over her and the pain she was feeling that she surely didn't understand, as a baby who heretofore has been incredibly healthy.

I prayed that God would take away the pain. Then, without even thinking about it, prayed that God could transfer the pain to me, so that she didn't have to suffer through it. As soon as I prayed it, cuddling my little girl whose sobs had subsided to pitiful little sniffles, I realized the enormity of it. I realized that is exactly what God did for me.

As a parent, he too wanted to spare the pain that I would otherwise endure. The pain was so unbearable, he didn't want us to ever know it. And so he wore it himself. On the cross. To a death that we can't even imagine.

Then, as my daughter finally gave way to sleep, I laid her down. Walking away from her crib, I couldn't shake the awe that came from this glimpse God had given me. Of something so simple but that hadn't yet really understood until now.

Then, in the still and quiet dark, I moved the barstool so that it wouldn't ever hurt her again.

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Come Together...

At my church, each week we recite the Apostle's Creed, which lists the core tenets of the Christian faith. We start off saying, "I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord." We continue on, listing off the things we believe about Jesus. Then we say, "I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins..."

In this context, the term 'catholic church' is not referring to Roman Catholicism as we know it today but simply refers to the universal Church of believers. And the communion of saints is talking about the spiritual union of the members of the Christian Church, living and dead.

The Body of Christ—His church—is a powerful thing that I don't think we always recognize. It's not just the Christians we know or who go to our church. We are intimately connected with every Christian everywhere, who has ever lived. It is a crazy concept but it shows the power of the Body coming together.

For more than a year, I oversaw the Women Praying Boldly prayer group that I kicked off last summer as a way to band together and encourage women who are still waiting for God to write their love stories and bring them together with a godly spouse. Because life has gotten crazy with a kiddo who's crawling around like crazy, I recently passed the torch along to two other women (Leeann and Jen) who are now overseeing the group and keeping it going, growing and vibrant. (If you want to find out more about the Women Praying Boldly prayer group, you can read more about it here and sign up to receive the monthly e-newsletters here.)

Over the course of the almost two years that I started and grew the group, I received emails from women from all over the country, even throughout the world, who tell me how much they need this, how much it means to them to get prayer from and to pray for another woman, who feels the exact same way, even if she’s on the other side of the globe. I’ve heard how this challenge to keep praying and keep praying even when your circumstances never seem to change has been a challenge for them to come to know God more and deeper and fuller.

While we celebrate with the women who became engaged during the span of the project, there are others who have instead found heartbreak even in spite of all this prayer. And yet, in the midst of it, many of those same heartbroken and disappointed have told me how God’s used this time to draw them closer into His own love, how they started off looking for one thing and ended up finding something far better that they hadn’t realized was missing from their relationship with God. And it’s a journey we have taken together, sharing the ups and downs, the disappointments and the times of joy, even when they come from the most surprising of places.

What we are doing in this group—what we are doing together—matters. (Which is why I was so pleased that these ladies were willing to take over for me!)

There is truly power in us coming together to pray for one another, to encourage one another through the Holy Spirit, to plead strength and mercy on each others accounts.

In Hebrews 12 it says:"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily hinders our progress. And let us run with endurance the race that God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, on whom our faith depends from start to finish. ... Think about all he endured when sinful people did such terrible things to him, so that you don't become weary and give up. After all, you have not yet given your lives in your struggle against sin."

Yes, friends. Let us endure together and keep our eyes on Jesus.

Together.

(If you want to find out more about the Women Praying Boldly prayer group, you can read more about it here and sign up to receive the monthly e-newsletters here.)

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A Prayer for All the Mamas Out There

Through blogging and sharing about all the difficulty I had during Claire’s early months, I’ve heard from a lot of you who experienced those same struggles and tears. And encouragement that it does get better (even though I hated hearing that at the time). That encouragement meant so much to me and I needed the camaraderie that honest motherhood can offer—that truly helped me get through some of the hardest days. And so, I wanted to take a moment to pay it forward, to all those new mothers out there who are struggling today. This prayer’s for you.

Oh Lord.

Thank you for motherhood. Thank you that it is a gift that you give to us. And I pray that, like with the best of all gifts, we will cherish it and hold it dear, even if it feels more like a penalty right now than a pleasure. Because I know that you will see to it that it will—someday, hopefully someday soon—feel like a pleasure, feel like the blessing that it is.

I pray that you will walk us through these days and that you will give us grace to whimper and crawl and heave ourselves through them. That we will do what we can to survive them and that, in the midst of all that, that you will be working wonders. In us, in our faith, in our children.

Because the truth is, that you wouldn’t bring us to this place if you weren’t going to do something with it, with us. You don’t bring struggle to us for the sake of struggle. You always have a purpose. Let us see that. Let us look for your redemption in these moments. Let us open our eyes to what you are already doing. Give us grace to look for that and to hope for that, even now.

Let us trust that we can do this, with your help. That you wouldn’t have trusted us with this child if you didn’t know we could handle it. Let us forget about all the woulda, shoulda, better-do-it-the-right-way adages that all the parenting “experts” throw at us. Give us the grace and permission to forget about those things and to listen to you—the only true parenting expert for our one-of-a-kind baby.

Grow us in the midst of these days that often feel like one big mess. Teach us patience and forgiveness and controlling our emotions and seeing you in the smallest of places. Open our hearts and teach us vulnerability and that our weakness is beautiful. Teach us to open up and ask for help and to be honest about the hardship. And in those places, bless us. Show us your love. Show us that you are always with us, even when it feels like you have closed your ears to our prayers and are ignoring us. Give us strength to ignore those lies and to trust you and to keep praying (for the thousandth time) for help and rescue.

And then, I pray, rescue us. We know that you do finish what you’ve started. So work here. We know you won’t leave us in this place of hardship forever. Give us the strength to hope and wait on you. And then the blessing of watching you work. Here, in this place. Now.

Thank you for your unending, ever-present love. And the fact that you are always redeeming. We love you, we trust you. In Christ’s name, Amen.

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God is At Work Here

One of my prayers of late has been that God would redeem those first months of Claire's life for me. The months when everything felt hard and awful and miserable. That he would take them and make motherhood something of beauty to me. Make it shine and glimmer and glisten like I never imagined.

It's not that I haven't loved Claire—it's insane how much I love her. But I struggle to love the sacrifice and giving up and giving away that is motherhood, which pretty much defined those early months of life. Things today are so much better, but I'm still healing from that season. There are still wounds that are tender to the touch. And so, my prayer persists.

At our new church, we just started up a women's Bible study and in my small group, I shared this prayer request of mine. The thing is, I know that God wants to do this for me. He has whispered to my heart that he wants to redeem that season, that he wants to show me how beautiful motherhood can be, the blessing that it is. And so I ask for this prayer because I know he wants to give it to me, I know he will. So I asked that prayer expectantly, knowingly.

And so it happened that after praying this prayer for weeks now and sharing it with my new friends-in-faith, I felt my eyes opening. I felt a sense of awe for this daughter of mine step in like never before. I have always been in love with her and proud of her and had fun with her. But there's been a novelty in it of late.

An awe of the little things, the moments when I hold her close in the middle of the night after she's woken to eat. Just holding her heavy little body close, and walking her back to her crib, her head nestled in my arm, breathing softly and without a care against me.

I am finally learning to savor these moments, to savor this season. Hallelujah. Truly, God is at work here.

I remain confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.
- Psalm 27:13
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I Am Brave (And So Are You)

I don’t often think of myself as a brave person: I prefer to go places and try new things with someone else (namely, my husband). I don’t love change. I don’t even like swimming. I’m happiest getting to sit at home with my loved ones or take a walk out in nature on a lovely day.

But when I was doing my Bible reading the other day, I came across a verse that turned all this on its head. Bravery doesn’t have to mean you swim with the sharks or take off with just the clothes on your back to travel to a far-off land.

No. Bravery is more than that:

“We live by what we believe, not by what we can see. So I say that we have courage.” 2 Corinthians 5:7-8

I’ve heard people quote that verse before, but I’ve never let it sink in, settle into my soul and whisper to it: You are so brave. You are weak, but you are so strong. Strong and brave and everything else I’d never use to describe myself all because of the simple fact that I believe. Because all those other things that we think describe bravery are just actions. But belief, faith, is on the one had so much more than that and yet so much simpler.
It is beautiful in its simplicity. And comforting to this heart of mine that doesn’t often feel very brave.

Yet, I am. Because my belief has taken me incredible places, given me the courage to make incredible choices, made what could have been an ordinary life into something truly, really incredible.

And, yet, though I knew at the time those were all leaps of faith—I wasn’t always quite sure how they would work out, where they would lead to and what would come next—I never felt like I was gambling or putting my future at risk. Because my heart was rooted in that one thing: Belief. And when that is what is the guiding force, it never fails. I never have to worry.

I simply have to be brave and believe.

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The Promised Land of Parenting

As I trudge through parenthood, I have to remind myself not to get too focused on the minutiae of it all—things like sleeping through the night or whether my daughter’s getting enough age-appropriate entertainment to keep her on-track developmentally. It’s enough to become consuming, if I let it.

That’s the thing. I have to make sure I don’t let those things become consuming.

Instead, I must remember what the real goal ought to be fore as a mom: To teach my daughter about The Lord and do my best to show Him to her.

I was reminded of this when I was reading through the early chapters of Joshua, as the Israelites are awaiting deliverance to the Promised Land and readying to attack Jericho:

Three days later the Israelite officers went through the camp, giving these instructions to the people: “When you see the Levitical priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord your God, move out from your positions and follow them. Since you have never traveled this way before, they will guide you. Stay about a half mile behind them, keeping a clear distance between you and the Ark. Make sure you don’t come any closer.” Then Joshua told the people, “Purify yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do great wonders among you.” Joshua 3:2-5

“Since you have never traveled this way before,” the text says, the people are to let the priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant lead the way. They are to follow the Ark, which will guide them, straight into the Promised Land.

Oh, how that resonates with this life of mine as a new, first-time mom. I have never traveled this way before and oftentimes feel at a loss, unsure of what I’m doing, wondering how much I’m messing things up, how many mistakes I’m making.

But, like the Israelites, I have to remember that it’s okay that I don’t know what I’m doing when I find myself into this unfamiliar territory. It’s okay, because God has led me this far and I have to trust him to lead me the rest of the way—into the Promised Land of parenting.

So long as I continue looking to him, looking to his Word and his promises, he will guide me and deliver me to that place of promise, that place where I can see my daughter flourish because she has found love in him.

That ought to be the Promised Land I’m after. I have to remind myself to let that—rather than everything else—be the mission that guides my steps. It is not getting my daughter to sleep through the night or perfect crawling by six months. It is so much simpler than that: Love God and model him for her in hopes that she will someday follow in those same footsteps.

Like Joshua told that band of vagabonds, looking longingly at their Promised Land off in the distance: When we let him lead us, “the Lord will do great wonders among you.” That’s the kind of Promised Land I’m after!

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The Story of How I Decided to Leave Everything I Knew and Move in Pursuit of God (Part 3)

I'm currently in the midst of relocating from Georgia to Ohio, so I thought it was a fitting time to look back at another time in my life where God moved me across the country: I was 24 and single, and moved from my hometown in Ohio to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where I knew one person in the entire state.

Earlier this week, I shared the first part and second part of my story about this leap of faith. If you missed it, click here to read Part 1. And click here to read Part 2. Today I am sharing the last and final bit, Part 3, in my story about how this all unfolded. 

Back in Ohio, I received word that I was invited back for a second interview. I ended up having to reschedule because the original date they wanted me to arrive fell during the week I had already arranged to chaperone a youth group trip. (As it turns out, this was the youth group trip where I got to know the man who would someday become my husband!) Fortunately they were flexible and were able to push the interview back another week.

I remained calm and at peace with the situation—until the night before the interview. At that point I had what I’d probably compare to an anxiety attack although I have nothing to compare it to. My heart was racing, I was short of breath, I was hungry, I was thirsty… I tried to pray through it but nothing worked. I barely slept and the next morning, I was still anxious the whole drive up. Even when I went into the interview, the anxiety was still right there, punching me in the face.

Looking back, I really feel like it was the devil’s one last-ditch effort to psych me out and pull me away from God’s plan. Because at one point, I really just wanted to call them and tell them to cancel the interview. And what was I afraid of? Of getting the job? How ridiculous is that?

It wasn’t until about halfway through the interview that I regained composure and the anxiety left me. By that point, the anxiety had already made me mess up a bit more than I normally would have so I figured that if I was able to get the job even after that–admittedly, not my greatest interview–then I knew God was in on it. I walked out of the interview at peace with whatever would happen.

The next Monday, I received an email offering me the position. Just. Like. That. I couldn’t believe it, that it all had really, actually happened. That God had planted this desire in my heart and arranged everything to come together and then he actually gave it to me.

As I considered all of that, I knew that I had to accept the job, even though by this point my friend had realized she didn’t want to move to Grand Rapids and I’d be doing it alone. Sure, there was uncertainty but I had seen so much of God’s goodness already, how I could expect any less of it in the future? God truly was so powerful in the knitting together of the situation, that I could not deny it. I could not turn away from it, from him.

I wanted this to be one of those times where I heeded and obeyed God, in hopes that doing so would make it easier for me to continue to heed and obey him in the future. Because I didn’t want to look back and say the only time I really knew I was listening to God and God was with me was when I was 24. I didn’t want to turn it down out of fear and run the chance of deadening my heart to listening to him in the future, as well. That would be so disappointing and heartbreaking.

So, with that awareness, I accepted the job.

Looking back over that situation, it is so encouraging to me to see how God guided the whole process, especially given that I was just starting to flourish in my faith. It was one of the first times that I tried to start to listen to him. And he met me in those places! There were many places along the way where I could have doubted more, where I could have ignored God’s still small voice. But I didn’t because he heaped grace upon grace, peace upon peace all around me.

What another testimony of his lavish love for even the least of these.

(If you want to read more about how God continued to provide for me once I did move to Michigan, you can read more about that here. And, a perennial favorite is my series about how my husband and I met and fell in love, Our Love Story.)

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The Story of How I Decided to Leave Everything I Knew and Move in Pursuit of God (Part 2)

I'm currently in the midst of relocating from Georgia to Ohio, so I thought it was a fitting time to look back at another time in my life where God moved me across the country: I was 24 and single, and moved from my hometown in Ohio to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where I knew one person in the entire state.

A couple days ago, I shared the first part of my story about this leap of faith I took. If you missed it, click here to read Part 1.

Time was ticking as we got closer to visiting Grand Rapids and I still hadn’t nailed down any job interviews. I emailed a contact I’d made at the smaller publishing house to follow-up about setting up an interview and she suggested some new job postings for me to consider. None of them were in what I originally wanted to pursue (that of an acquisitions editor—the people who are finding the books to publish) but there were some in the publicity and marketing departments.

I pulled together my application and sent it off. Days later, I got an email that I had an interview with the publicity department while I was in town.

Now I had done this sort of informational interview seeking once before, right after I graduated college and thought I wanted to move to New York City. I couldn’t find a job and decided to visit the city and see what I could do. Before going, I lined up as many interviews as I could, at places like Teen People, Cosmogirl, and YM. (Now it seems kind of silly, but at the time I really wanted to work for a teen magazine.)

So my inclination with this Grand Rapids visit was originally to line up as many interviews as possible, but at this point I only had one. But Something told me to pursue this one avenue—to see it through and to trust. So I fought my urge to blanket the city with resumes and pitches and cover letters. I sat still. And waited.

When we visited in June, it was incredible how people reached out to us. Even before the visit, we seemed to be getting signs that there was a community already waiting for us up there, with people eager to open their homes to us and encouraging us to come.

The one, solitary person I knew in the town let us stay with him and his wife and invited friends over so that we could start to meet people. More people kept recommending folks for us to meet. It was amazing to see that all weave together and the semblance of a community start to take shape for us.

The last day we were in town (a Monday) was the day of the interview. Somehow through the whole process, God gave me an insane peace about everything. And you should know, by nature, I’m a worrywort (as we've already established).

But with Grand Rapids, I wasn’t worried or rushed or stressed or anxious. I just trusted: that God would provide a job if he was going to point me in that direction. That I’d figure everything out with my living situation in Ohio. When people asked me if I’d considered this and what I was going to do about that, all I could do is shrug and say I don’t know yet, and be done with it. How glorious and releasing is that?!

So upon going in for my interview, I could not have been more at ease. I walked in and met with the interviewer, and it was like meeting with a friend. We got along great and talked shop but also talked about life and the way God works. She recommended books to read to me and gave me one to take with me and I made recommendations for her. I walked away feeling like this is a woman I could really look up to and respect, not just as far as a job goes but also as far as having as a sort of mentor in my life. To have that as a boss? That’s pretty phenomenal!

So I walked away from the interview with a good feeling brewing in my stomach–as if I already belonged to this place. My friend picked me up and we went to a cute French cafe and met more new friends before hitting the road for the 6-hour return trip to Cincinnati.

Later this week, I will share Part 3, the final post, in my story about how this all unfolded and what God was doing behind-the-scenes as he prepared to move me to this new town which I could tell was starting to feel more and more like home...

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The Story of How I Decided to Leave Everything I Knew and Move in Pursuit of God (Part 1)

I'm currently in the midst of relocating from Georgia to Ohio, so I thought it was a fitting time to look back at another time in my life where God moved me across the country: I was 24 and single, and moved from my hometown in Ohio to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where I knew one person in the entire state. It was undoubtedly a leap of faith for me and one that has guided me (and grown my faith) ever since. Here's a look back at how that all came to be:

In March of 2008, I was at work, doing a job I enjoyed where I worked as an editor for a graphic design magazine. I was taking a break from the daily grind and flipping through some articles online–not about design but about faith and the like.

A light bulb went off in my head that if my job had to do with God, I’d be so great about it because that’s where my passion for learning lies. I enjoy design and appreciate design but I don’t seek it out in the way I do information about God.

Now nothing with this light bulb moment would have really gone anywhere had it not been for the fact that I’d recently become friends with a girl at church who was another volunteer with the youth group girls. She confided that she was trying to figure out where she was headed in life and told me about the two places she was considering: Philadelphia and Grand Rapids, Michigan.

After that conversation, I got inspired and went home and started looking up where some Christian publishing companies were. Lo and behold, there were a handful of publishing houses in that little northern town of Grand Rapids. In fact, it’s deemed the Christian publishing capital of the country.

So the more she and I talked about it, the more right it felt to pursue Grand Rapids and this dream of Christian publishing. We set up a weekend to go visit, but one thing led to another and it kept getting derailed. We weren’t able to visit until a couple of months later, in the middle of June.

Trying to maximize this dream of mine, I put feelers out at a couple of the Christian publishers I’d discovered to see if I could meet with any when I was in town. The original publishing house that I thought I wanted to pursue never called me back.

However, there was this smaller one that I contacted and even when the operator patched me through to someone completely unrelated–everyone was so kind and so helpful to me. To me, that was God opening a door, and I took it by faith.

It was a couple weeks before we headed up to Grand Rapids and I still hadn’t secured any job interviews. But I still believed this is what God wanted. I got together with the youth pastor at our church, who had become a good friend, to get his guidance on the situation.

We talked through the reasons why I wanted to move. He had me create a pros-and-cons list of why I wanted to move to Grand Rapids. (He used a neat illustration to explain his understanding of determining what God's will is for our lives. Read more about that here.)

He asked me what I would do if I didn’t get a job up there, would I just move ahead? I told him that I wouldn’t move until I had a job because I felt like that was the whole purpose God was pointing me up there for in the first place, so I trusted that he would provide that.

Somehow God gave me such peace and clarity through the whole process–I’m still baffled.

After our meeting he told me that he wished he could tell me that I was doing it for the wrong reasons but he couldn’t.

I'll be back in a couple of days to continue with Part 2 and sharing my story about how this all unfolded and what God was doing behind-the-scenes.

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