She sat there, on the corner of the street… her sign requesting help facing the passers-by but she didn’t turn to meet them.  Perhaps she couldn’t bear their unmet gaze, perhaps she was ashamed at what her life has become, or perhaps she has grown accustomed to feeling nothing at all. 

I was already running a few minutes late for prayer, that’s how we start our Thursday’s and then after I needed to set up for a conference call - I was already too late to stop and answer this need but… I pulled into a parking lot just across her corner and got out, walked to her and said hello.  

​I thought I would see evidence of substances that led to this life she was now living but I didn’t see that. I thought I would hear lies and the script of usual things homeless say but I didn’t.  I believe I saw her and heard her as God did. She was young, more clean than I thought she would be, pretty, and soft spoken. I felt bold questions bubble up:

“Why are you out here and why do you stay?”

“Your sign says you have needs, what are they?”

”It seems to me, as I saw you sitting there that you are accustomed to not being seen.” 

She was honest with me so I met her with the same.  She did not want what I offered, she just needed cash.  She shared with me that her family fell apart and she could no longer live with them.  She said she left with no ID, no social security number, no birth certificate and she said that every attempt to improve her life has been a struggle since she has no identity.  

I listened to her, she was shifty-eyed with me and only once or twice to meet my gaze.  When I realized the only thing I was suppose to do was pray. I asked her if I could she said yes and so I did.  And then I felt words again, not mine, but His… He said, “Tell her she has intrinsic value to me.” I touched her slender arm and looked into her eyes as I did.  

I have since looked up the definition of intrinsic value, which is typically a financial term and found this:  “Intrinsic value is a way of describing the perceived or true value of an asset. This is not always identical to the current market price because assets can be over- or undervalued.”  What she needed was money… that is what she would accept… and the Lord wanted me to tell her that she had intrinsic value. Value to Him… that He, the God of all the universe thought to create her, thought to put her on earth in this time and space. And, not only that… He then came to this earth to die for her, to redeem her and bring her everlasting life.  

Intrinsic Value…. Priceless to God.  Undervalued by the world. 

I shared with her that I was not there to give her money.  I offered to take her to lunch, buy her food - she declined and stayed on the corner.  I touched her arm and told her that I hope to see her again. I left, looking back a few times, she never turned back around.  

The conversation has stayed with me and I cannot get her out of my heart.  Today I went to look for her… I cannot help but think about so many things - she is someone’s daughter... she was once a baby in someone’s arms… has she run away... is she on the streets tonight… is she selling herself… why did I only share the sentence… is she ok?

Today Dan and I went shopping and breakfast, we took time to catch-up from the week we have had and I shared with him about my interaction with this homeless girl.  I told him that I realized the enemy did a number on her life, somehow succeeding to break up a home, cause her to beg on the streets and literally robbed her of her identity.  But the God of the universe knew her when she was being “knit together in her mother's womb” (Psalm 139:13). He knows her laying down and her rising up (Psalm 139:2). He knows that when she goes to the pit, He is right there (Psalm 139:8)… and He knew her yesterday and today and forever (Hebrews 13:8).  And for a moment He asked someone else to go meet her, speak with her, share a prayer and remind her that He values her… She is His… She has intrinsic value (Matthew 10:29-31).  

Her name biblically translates to “clothed with salvation” and the name means eternal beauty... Very fitting considering. Her name is Taylor.   

The title screen just flashed "Welcome Back" and I have to smile a little, the corners of my mouth are turning up. I speak to the keys at my fingers, "Hello old friends, maybe I remember how to do this."  My last post was in 2018, March to be exact and I didn't take a moment to read it.  I know I am being called back to this, have been for some time.  The Lord keeps speaking it to me but... Oh, with sorrow I remember the writers block that stunted me as the bricks slowly built the wall between me and the words; built the wall between Me and the Lord.  

18 months.  That is how long it has been.

I can set the time-machine back to a small handful of situations that cast me into the darkness of self-doubt.  I remember the moment I re-read a very early piece of writing, a piece where I mishandled scripture, instead of taking it to the Lord and asking what He'd have me do-I picked it up and tucked it deep inside so that I could pull it out later and use it against myself.  Then there was the time when life was getting a little too raw and I felt like I could not share the real me, the hard and vulnerable situation because of external influences and I, again, picked that up and tucked it in thinking I was protecting myself, my family and others.  In moments of silence, self-doubt and despair one can be really hard on themselves.  That's where I was plus a bunch of life heaped on top of that... but something in me has given way, I cannot explain it.  

So much changes in 18 months.  

I have been pruned and plucked.  I have been stripped and re-clothed.  I have watched people go and have let them go.  I have been blessed with restoration and the old made new.  I have gotten mad at God and I have surrendered.  I have laid offerings at His feet, only to pick them up again. Like the good Father that He is, I have felt the whisper of His still soft voice as He as asked me to lay it down again.  There is a lot of I in this scenario and I have discovered that is okay because at some point I turned into we and the Lord met with me each and every time.  

This may have been a season of silence, of trial, and of growth for which I am grateful.  The season is not over... it may have only just begun.  

Details. I love details.

I love how things come together with time and planning. I love details almost as much as I love the finished product. I love working the vision into a plan on paper and fleshing it out until it comes to life.

I live and breathe in the details.

I was reading in scripture of the Last Supper during the Passover season and what became the Friday before Jesus would be crucified. Passover Celebration was and is a time to remember the Israelite's being freed from slavery in Egypt, and then became the time where Jesus drew together those closest to Him for a very important and symbolic teaching, the body and the blood broken for us, but I skip ahead.

The books of Matthew, Mark and Luke record accounts of Jesus concern for the preparation of that meal together. In Matthew He says, “As you go into the city you will see a certain man. Tell him, “The Teacher says: My time has come, and I will eat the Passover meal with my disciples at your house.” Matthew 26:18

How strange to me that he tells his disciples, you will see a certain man and that man will understand whom you are speaking of and open his home to you… no questions asked. And what man? How will they know him when they see him?

Mark accounts it in this way, “So as Jesus sent two of them into Jerusalem with these instructions: “As you Go into the city, a man carrying a pitcher of water will meet you. Follow him. As the house he enters, say to the owner, “The Teacher asks: Where is the guest room where I can eat the Passover meal with my disciples?” He will take you upstairs to a large room that is already set up. That is where you should prepare the meal.” So, the two disciples went into the city and found everything just as Jesus had said and they prepared the Passover meal there.” Mark 14:13-16

So that makes a little more sense… women, not men would have been going to the well for water. The man would be recognizable by the randomness of fetching water… but strange still, let us eat in your home, on a table you have prepared for this special celebration meal?

The book of Luke gives even more clarity, “Jesus sent Peter and John ahead and said, “Go and prepare the Passover meal so we can all eat it together.” “Where do you want us to prepare it?” They asked him.” “He replied, “As soon as you enter Jerusalem, a man carrying a pitcher of water will meet you, Follow him. At the house he enters, “say to the owner, “The Teacher asks: Where is the guest room where I can eat the Passover meal with my disciples?” He will take you upstairs to a large room that is already set up. That is where you should prepare our meal. They went off to the city and found everything just as Jesus had said, and they prepared the Passover meal there.” Luke 22:8-13

All these accounts show me that Jesus knew… He knew there would be a man, carrying a pitcher of water, at that time and that place, who would lead his disciples to a house with an upper room, preset for the Passover meal and that man would allow them access to his table for the purposes according to the Teacher’s request. These accounts make me wonder so many other things… Was this a communal cultural thing that permitted others entering and sharing with one another in this manner? The owner of the home clearly knew who Jesus was, I assume he was a follower of Jesus…

I think of how many events I have planned, large and small… I think of the specific detail that goes into each one being pulled off without a hitch, certainly the Passover meal is no different. There are specifications and dietary restrictions that go into each one, the disciples were to prepare that meal. In the details, Jesus was looking for and found a prepared table and an open heart.

Today, culturally, Easter means different things to different people… Some carry-on traditions of the past, gathering together, eating together, providing fun games and activities the kiddos. Nothing more...

For others, like my family, Easter is a time to remember Jesus and His ultimate sacrifice on the Cross, given freely for all of mankind, for those who would believe in Him, call upon His name and surrender themselves to him. He was the price paid for the sins of man…

My mom is preparing Easter dinner, even as I type this to you. She is seasoning the lamb, she is making the side dishes and finishing dessert. Later I will go over to help her set the table and prepare the room for extended family and friends. Specific foods, specific dinnerware, and hearts that welcome others in with joy. Tomorrow we will attend church and hear the Message, we will worship Him for all He has done and make much of His name. We will strive to keep Him the focus for this is His season…

Passover Friday came… and Jesus broke His bread and drank His wine, foretelling of things to come.

Good Friday came… and Jesus surrendered Himself on the Cross. Tetelestai, It Is Finished!

Saturday was silent and full of mourning…

Sunday… Jesus rose from the grave, defeated death… and brought with Him a new Hope and complete Joy.

Jesus is in the details, never forget… or perhaps, fully understand for the first time that He prepared a place at the table for you, specifically and strategically. He invites you to dine with Him.

Happy Easter all!

Each year, for many years now, I have intentionally taken a word (or a verse) and made it mine for the month, for the season, or for a year.  My first word was real, I longed for realness in my life. I longed for messy friendships that would last a lifetime. I longed for real homes that didn’t look like what we see on restoration shows… I want to know that you have a laundry pile on your couch because so do I.  I want to know that you may always have a sink full of dishes but there will always be a hot pot of coffee ready to go at a moment’s notice for a friend who needs you.  I want to know that your kid’s bathroom has a squished tube of toothpaste on the counter and a mess of toys in the tub and if I come over you might have to use your toilet brush for one quick scrub because sometimes that’s my house.  I cannot even begin to tell you what a blessing that year was.  I made some of the best and closest friendships that year – you know why… because they were REAL.  It was real life, real mess, real struggle, real and honest conversations that grew me physically, spiritually, and mentally. 
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Another time I adopted the word intentional.  I desired to have intentionality with my time, with my friends, with my family. I wanted to make my yes matter and my no firm.  I wanted the value of all the things I did have a lasting impact on those around me… and that was a good season.  It was hard, I realized just how much of a people pleaser I can be, I learned how easy it is to take “that” assignment or fill “that” spot just because someone needs to.  I learned that the most important yes and the most important no is the one for my family - my husband and my kids.  They need me present and actively engaged in their lives. They don’t need me overstressed, overcommitted, or unavailable.  They need me to say NO for them and they need me to say YES to them.  That was a good year. 

Even as I type, as I reflect on those lessons learned, how easy it is to backslide into those bad habits and I can see where I have let the world creep back in.  In case you have no idea what I am talking about, let me share with you the concept of “a word”.
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The first time I heard about this practice it had to have been more than 7 years ago.  I was in the car on my way to work listening to the radio.  It was the beginning of the year and KLOVE was talking about prayerfully asking God for a personal focus area for your life to grow in faith, grow in the word and grow closer to Him.  Taking that word captive and passing it over scripture to find the truth of who God is, what the word might reveal about His character and how He intends to grow you.  That’s when I picked real.  At the time, much around me that wasn’t real, so I prayed about it, meditated on it and adopted it. The process has been the same ever since.
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Last year, I think I have shared, that I picked a full verse...  The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, faith, gentleness, self control.  Against such things there is no law.  I concentrated on each word, each specific placement, I looked at who we get those elements from, I looked and all the scripture around Galatians 5:22-23 and I am still learning... December brought Joy... January... well... January has brought quite possibly the stupidest word I have ever picked but you will have to stay tuned for that... 

What about you?  Have you heard of this concept before?  Have you thought about taking a word or a verse and meditating on it, studying it from every angle and growing closer in your walk?  I promise you it will change your life, if you let it…  Do you dare? 

Be Brave… share with me your word and in my next entry I will share with you mine…

I wanted so much to possess self-control, to walk in patience, to be kind, to have my response to a situation come from a place of peace and I failed quite a bit in 2017 and when I failed I would research each word over again... 

Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, Self-control... 

I am not writing to tell you that I have it down, on the contrary, probably farther from it as I realize how far I still need to go.  But what I learned is that I am not governed by my circumstances.  I am not governed by the things done to me or said about me.  I am not governed by my past failures or things I have done.  Instead, I can choose a posture of willful surrender.  Instead, I can choose a thoughtful posture of obedience.  

These ten verbs called me, as a believer in Jesus, to a place of obedience-training.  This intentional focus provided an atmosphere for inward transformative work that only the Spirit can do, quite literally the fruit, the product" of the Spirit.
    
Love. For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16
  
He was and is Love... love come down, love bent low.  Love in action, giving up Himself for us. 

Joy. Psalm 98.  We praise Him with all Joy we rejoice for what He has done.   
Our salvation... for the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ, our Lord.  Romans 6:23 

For God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.  John 3:17 

Resurrected from death so that I might be reconciled to Him and live with Him in eternity.  

Peace.  And with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. Ephesians 6:15 - His word is peace...  

It is in these first three truths, His love for us - you, me, all of mankind from the beginning, His Joy, the overwhelming Joy that comes from knowing that we; you, me, all of mankind - from the beginning - were bought with a price, a high price... His death on the cross... and the Word which is truth and brings Peace to those who believe.  In these three verbs,  
Jesus exampled and moved forward in; these first three, the way for the next.  With His love, with His Joy and with His Peace we are able to live out His word with patience, in kindness, goodness, faithfulness, with gentleness and self-control.
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I will be sharing with you some of truth He taught me this year.  Some of it I chronicled out as I do, some of it I left to sink into my being - trusting it to fall where it may, and still it teaches me.  I cannot wait to share with you how He's moving me.  I cannot wait to share with you the frustrating, overwhelming, captivating, awesome way the Spirit has taken hold.

​2017 was a quiet year for my writing...  2018 is going to be quite different...    
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Just about three years ago a wonderful friend told me I should write.  She encouraged me to share authenticity and compassion; she encouraged me to use my writing voice and make a difference.  What I turned into my very first blog post was an email I sent to some amazing women who formed my tribe; mothers, friends, colleagues, comrades in the good-fight.  I am not sure what a difference I have made in these three years, but I know it’s still in my heart.  Maybe I am a bit sentimental and reflective, that’s what this season is for I suppose – this season of thanksgiving. 

This Thanksgiving my family and I went off the technology grid, like we do every year, but this trip was a little different for many reasons, most of which I will keep locked in my heart. However, I will share, and I want to share that there is a reflective discontentment stirring inside of me.  This trip, by design, was about board games and quite conversations, walks to the lake with fishing poles and bike rides around camp.  It was about campfire nights and starry skies, it was about walking the dogs and watching birds.  It was about the Lord’s Supper and family scripture time.  This trip was wonderful. 

As we pulled out of camp for the drive home my first blog stirred in my heart again… or rather the foreknowledge of Jesus, of the Messiah, the Savior of the world.  An entire people waited with anticipation for the One that was foretold from the beginning, the One who would come again. 

Isaiah 40:1-5 begins with comfort, Hebrew translation “Nacham, nacham” which is comfort by alleviating another’s sorrow, restoring another’s hope, bringing cheer to someone in despair. 

It goes on to foretell of a great king which will come later, the same wording that John the Baptist uses in Matthew and then later in the same text it points to The One who will come again; Jesus would alleviate sorrow, restore hope and bring cheer. Jesus is compassion, hope and grace.

An entire world still waits with anticipation, some know exactly who they are watching for while others unknowingly search by filling their days with computer screens and calendared appointments, meetings and business trips, working to make the money for the best technology, best innovation, best things, education, house, etc., etc., the list goes on and on. 
But one day, all will see…

It won’t matter in those days what we achieved if it wasn’t for God… The playing field will be leveled.

As we traveled through the hills and valleys, making our way home, I asked my husband, “Do you suppose we are missing out on literal instructions?  It’s no secret that the North American Church is asleep but even in our service, our day to day work for the church for the sake of “ministry” - I had to ask him aloud, “Are we missing the literal call?”  The disciples literally put their lives aside to follow Jesus, they walked where He walked, they traveled where He traveled.  They sat and learned from Him.  They set aside everything to know Him.

This discontentment in my soul equates to the realization that this year is no different than last year.  What does my spiritual footprint look like because I feel as though I am on a loop…  Winter, spring, summer and fall.  New Year, finishing the school year, summer break and summer trips, back to school, school shopping, sports and extracurricular activities, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas… Church service, serving, ministry work for work… what am I doing besides spinning my wheels towards the next date on my calendar. 

Are we missing out?  The testimony of our lives should not be what we have rather it should reflect whom we serve.  We all serve something or someone… The government as we look to “leaders” to provide relief programs or the banks as we mortgage and borrow ourselves into the endless cycle of longer hours at the office and ladder climbing.

I guess the question I should be asking is how much intentional living am I participating in with anticipation? 

What if the sleeping Church woke up? What if every person in the body of the Church lived nacham searching for those to alleviate sorrow, restore hope and bring cheer? What if we didn’t wait for a natural disaster to be the Church in our communities and instead looked-for ways, today, to help a neighbor in need? 

​What would our world look like if we participated as true disciples? 

It’s been months since I have taken the time to write on here, to be honest I have written and deleted, started and stopped more times than I can count.   

I took some time and blogged for a few months as a contributing writer for Daughters of the Deep.  Great site, wonderful ladies, I enjoyed it, and surprisingly having an actual deadline like a “real” writer was fun.  However, quickly I found myself immersed in that “project”.  The writing was separate from everything else I did.  The content more faith based devotional type than my usual random life entries here and I was focused on new ideas and a new angle for my personal “brand” – yikes- I have no idea when that became me!  I slowly fell down a rabbit hole I am not sure I was meant to go down.  As I continued to develop my writing it became abundantly clear that I said yes to a good yes, but not my best yes and as I prayed I felt like I was affirmed on more than one occasion that God was asking me to review my priorities and that became one that had to go.  I had to back-up and admit that I made a mistake.

Simultaneously, my heart and mind began to long for a bigger dream… one that I have dared to hope, dared to consider, dared to plant in the ground as a little seed and cultivate into something more.   A book!  As quickly as the dream began, the self-doubt became the only voice I could hear; “Who do I think I am?”, “Why on earth would people read anything I write?” 

Honestly, does it matter? I dared to dream a dream!  I gave those thoughts to God for more than a year and one night, goodness… I cannot even explain what came over me and what continues to come over me as I hear whispers, wisdom imparted, and scripture that lights an unbelievable path… my book is coming to life – slowly and that excites me.  I know I cannot do it in my own strength, with my own wisdom but God can. 

I have also been in a long season of refinement - remaining low and leaning in.  Learning to make my beliefs my own, not because someone told them to me or gave me guidelines to follow, a rule book from an institution rather than the Bible itself. I am learning that I might be a rebel, I might push some boundaries, and you may not like me afterwards but my walk is deepening and I am going where God is leading me.  My walk may not always be on a road filled with people and I am learning that sometimes I must travel it alone, until I find my people.  God has been good to remind me that as a woman who chases after God that it matters more to me that I am obedient to God and less to the voices in the crowd.   

Over the next few weeks I will be posting for you the posts from Daughters of the Deep, I am still deeply proud of the work I did and of that community --- they do great stuff for the Kingdom!  I will also be posting some new things… so keep checking in.
 
Thank you for continuing to follow along… and for your prayers. 

​~Laurie

I was sitting on the sidelines, game three of flag-football playoffs when I heard one of the coaches say, “This is what defines you, right here, this is what makes you.”  I love, love, love my son’s coaches.  They are good men, they are men of God.  They have integrity and honor and they coach well.  But this one time, I didn’t agree.  Perhaps he got carried away, perhaps, he’s almost right… but this one game, in the middle of May, while my son is 9… this is not what makes him.  It may shape him, and I know it has, but it is not what makes him.

At the beginning of the year my sweet boy wanted to play football, he begged and begged.  He could do it, he was convinced… and I repeatedly told him no for lots of reasons but if I am being honest – I didn’t want him to get made fun of, he is a lot smaller than most of the boys – in height and weight.  When other mothers ask me which one my son is, it would be easy to say, “He’s the little one.” Or “He’s the short blond one.”  But I don’t mention his size because in most situations, it doesn’t matter to him… He will conquer giants one day, I just know it – I cannot help but want to protect him. Also, it’s football, flag or otherwise, it’s still dangerous and I don’t want to see him get hurt but it is something he loves. So, we’ve invested in two seasons now and we’ll start a third in the fall.  The first season their entire team barely won a game, this season that all changed.  They all worked hard and trained hard. Half his team went on to win the playoffs while the second half of the team, my sons team, came in third.  They played their hearts out… they played until their bodies gave out… they played until they broke inside and their nine and ten-year-old selves came out in a flood of tears and pounding on the grassy yard lines.

That’s hard to watch… as a mother. Part of me wanted to rescue him, wanted to pull him off the field, pack him up and take him for ice-cream but the part of the coach’s words, the part that was perhaps correct - not that it defines them but moments like this, how they deal with disappointment and challenge does get weaved into who they are. 

In the third game, my son and a team member crashed into one another… hard.  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t catch his breath and he was done.  I pulled him from that game and made him sit on the sideline with his team, cheering them on.  After losing the third game to our team mates, we were facing a tough team to beat, the next game was win or lose for the advance.  My son said all the things that defeat even before he stepped foot onto that field. He was a crying mess and he had lost hope and heart. Something stirred within me and I was reminded of our bedtime prayers. 

We pray every night for our kids, with our kids, and over our kids.  We have done variations of the following prayer since they were born. 

My daughter was 6 when she first started talking about believing in God, accepting His truth as her truth, and asking to be baptized.  We were concerned. We wondered how could a child fully understand the love of God, mankind's need for forgiveness, the sent Savior's death on the cross, and the resurrection.  We really thought maybe she should be older, more prepared, understand the weight of it all.  

Our then pastor, and still family friend, said to her daddy and me, "When we raise our kids in a home with a foundation that believes in God and follows God's truth, when we invest in their education and send them to a Bible believing school, and when we are committed to attending church and serving as a family in ministry... why would we be surprised when they "get it" and make a profession of faith at an early age."  That’s all we needed to take her seriously.  She was baptized just two years later.  

I don't know why I was surprised this past Friday night when his words rang in my mind once more.  

The kids and I went to dinner after football practice.  We love Taco Thursday, it's kind of our thing.... only we didn't make it on Thursday night but went on Friday instead.  We all order tacos, munch on salsa and chips, and then we just talk.  Daddy works nights so this time is usually just the three of us. We were happily chatting about the day, about school, about practice, and Saturday's game.  We texted funny pictures to daddy as we waited a ridiculously long time for our food.  We played games on the silly coloring mats restaurants give to kids to keep them occupied... and we laughed.  It was great fun.  

Behind me sat a couple, quietly eating and enjoying their time.  Honest mommy moment-I was aware of them when we walked in.  I was aware they were different, part of me was aware that the kids might notice and say something... something that makes parents cringe... something that kids say and then parents should apologize for. 

In the middle of our fun one of them got my attention and told me what great kids I have.  They thought our kids were just so well-mannered and couldn't believe how well behaved they were.  They told me that and they told the kids that.  The kids said thank you and we turned around but they wanted to keep talking to me, so I did.  As someone who loves Jesus, I kept thinking and praying for an opening to share the love of Jesus with them but an opportunity didn't come.  So, I remained friendly and kind.  It was about this time that my son gave them a few strange looks and then tapped on my shoulder... Moms, you know the tap... the tap that helps you remember the original concern for the cringe worthy comments you knew where coming the moment you entered in the first place.  I quietly told him to wait, he could tell me in a moment... I just kept thinking, keep him silent - don't let him say what's been on your mind since you walked in.  

The couple left and then I gave my son permission to tell me what he needed to tell me... what I expected was not what came out of his mouth.  

"Mom, I wanted you to tell them about Jesus."  "They needed to know that Jesus loves them."

My mouth hit the floor and it stayed there. 

Kids get it... ya know?!?  They just get it.  My kids didn't see this couple as I did, with the preconceived notion of judgement I had considered just by looking at them.  Instead, they, with a childlike heart just know that people need to hear about Jesus and how much He loves them.  Period... end of story.  

So, driving home I couldn't help but recall our wise pastor... only this time, in my mind, he was saying, "Your kids know and love Jesus.  You and everyone around them is teaching them to be evangelical and love the lost.  Your son loves the lost and you are surprised when he wants to talk to all people about Jesus; regardless of where they come from, who they look like, or any perceived lifestyle choices."  

I am so grateful for childlike love, innocence, and a heart like His!

I drove, we talked.  We talked about what mommy was doing in her mind when she was talking with the couple.  That mommy had been praying for an open door to talk about Jesus. That mommy also had to consider the surroundings, that they (my kiddos) were with me and the conversation could have gone so many, etc., etc., meanwhile the Spirit had opened the door... He called upon my son to open the door and I silenced him.  We talked about listening to the Spirit, we talked about things he could have said, ways he could have been bold.  And I apologized for not trusting him.

Lessons aren't always for the kids - sometimes they are wiser than they know. Their faith is simpler, their dependence is greater, and their understanding is what Jesus wanted us to know all along...  Love me and love others.  

I think it has been 6 months since I have felt the desire to post.  I have unfinished drafts all over the place - stories, thoughts, life stalled.  Now ready to push un-pause and get back to it.

This has been such a long season of lessons and change...  for me personally and professionally.  For my husband, our marriage, and for our kids.  

And I just want to share some of what I've/we've learned. 

I have learned that learning to wait upon the Lord is best.  His timing is always perfect.

It was crazy to walk away last year from a full-time job and a career path that I had been working so long to secure.  So many unknowns.  The only vision that kept me going was hovering the one foot out, dangling about the path, and the fall of the step to put one foot in front of the other and believe that this was what God wanted of us. 

I had prayed, we had prayed, and discussed it all with one another.  We walked into this as a family.  My commute into the office used to take 45 minutes, longer in traffic.  I would arrive at the office by 8 am, work through lunch, and leave at 5 pm where I would have another 45-minute commute home.  I took calls night, on weekends; once I even took a phone call in the middle of the frozen foods section of Whole Foods and solved a travel crisis for a colleague and his family after a missed connection during an international trip.  Too many hours away from home, too much time away from our kids, and my husband and I had become two ships passing in the night.  

On one of my commutes into the office I prayed to understand how leaving the job I had, career path, salary security, everything... would fit into my understanding, our understanding of who God is.  Surely, He is honored when we pay our bills and satisfy our debts.  Surely being in the work environment I was in gives good witness to who God is and how He loves imperfect people... imperfect people like me.  And suddenly, on this drive, I knew.  

What happens when I leave all that behind is a righted relationship...  One that is solely dependent on Him.  My independence gone.  My identity now His.  A righted relationship with my husband that makes me dependent on him for the first time in nearly 20 years, one that puts him as the head of our household.  Trust in a marriage that God brought together; even as I witnessed my own parents’ marriage struggle, witnessed trust and faith put into the wrong person and how far that got my mother.  So, I never trusted... always made just enough, could stand on my own - just in case...  Then, a relationship righted with my kids, time in the home with them - volunteering at their school, afterschool pick up and play dates.  Baking... Art... Homework helping... Sports... being a mom. My relationships righted.  The worldview turned upside down.

The year was painful, stressful, wonderful, and exciting.   

When we made the decision as a family, we looked hard at our finances.  We took an honest look at our bills, what we needed to pay off, what we needed to cut, and what we considered to be non-negotiable.  Our house and our kids school was a non-negotiable.  Tithing was also a non-negotiable, although we haven't been as faithful as we should have been with it.  Everything else either had to go or be cut and it was.  

In that span of time, we have done a great job and squeaking in every month with exactly what we needed.  God always provided.  In that span of time too... we have had a second house flood caused a second time by the refrigerator I had to have when we moved into this place years and years ago.  A waterfall in our bathroom one night during a rainstorm, and two broken down vehicles and repair bills to go along with it.  Things we didn't plan for, events such as this that have never happened in the history of our marriage so close together in back to back intervals. Things that would break any couple... things that normally would have broken us, broken my hubby --- but didn't and we persevered.  We looked for the silver lining and prayed.  We also thanked God it wasn't worse... we thanked God for the flood, that it was good clean filtered refrigerator water and not sewage.  We thanked God that it was only about an inch deep everywhere and didn't seep into our walls.  We thanked God that we have family and friends who loaned us vehicles when we needed them... and as my daughter had a bit of anxiety when my vehicle took its dive that we, as her parents, were able to notice that she needs to feel safe and secure, that things like that will give her anxiety and we can help her learn tools to help her cope.  We've relied on our church for prayers.  We've also relied on each other for comfort.  

In this time, I have watched my husband become a leader in our home... His confidence has soared, he loves like no other, and has grown in his own relationship with God.  Our relationship is also better than it has ever been before.  Our kids are happier than they have ever been and look forward to mom being around.  The money... extra clothes, and fancy vacations are hardly missed.  Instead they look forward to my visits at lunch every other Wednesday and me sitting in art class with them.  Since I no longer work weekends we spend more time together, more time talking... more time hearing their hearts and loving them for who they are. 

All these things would have been missed if I did not take a leap of faith and say yes to God's plan for our life.  

Some say that when God hands you a crazy-once-in-a-lifetime-can-only-happen-with-Him-plan you jump, you go all in... you do it.  So, we did... and we wouldn't go back.  

If God is calling you to something, He will guide you thought it and provide every step of the way.