Holding On.

It flooded my mind as I drove back home today- the way I'd found it just sitting there in that bush by the side of the road. His wrist watch. The time had stopped at the moment of impact. He was a cousin-in-law and an officer and he was much, much too young and there are things in this world that don't make any sense... that leave you with a heavy 'why' and the daunting question of where you're going to lay it.

When I had found it there, all those years ago, my heart stood still and something deep in me cried out sharp. All else faded away and there was a clear message waiting for me to reach down and pick it up, gingerly, like it was a holy thing:

"Time here is fleeting! There will be a last recorded minute for us all. When all is shaken away, what of all your frenzied building will stand firm?"

It is good to be reminded of the fragile state of things sometimes... this precarious dance between life and death that we count in candles. When I am reminded that I am but a vapor, God rises large in my sight and the problems and anxieties are blown away like dust from an old trunk in the attic... like smoke from a candle buried in sugary cake.

There are a lot of full-bodied hopes hanging upon a lot of fragile unknowns for Chris and I right now. Will they burst forth and ripen? Or will they fall to the ground heavy? It is a hard place to have been in for so long and my soul is weary from the tension of it all. How does one desperately hope for fruit and yet steel oneself for the possibility of a fall? How does one survive the sickening 'thud'? How does one get to the place where either outcome is accepted with gratitude, knowing that God only authors good?

Hope is a perilous thing.

And yet a life without it is no life at all.

So, we continue on in our treacherous hope... our eyes set upon a good thing, knowing that the stripping away of that thing will be counted good as well. Because even when the fruit tears away from the branch and lands heavy, the seeds are forced down and new things grow up through the mess. They are nourished by the mess and made strong.

Our ultimate hope will never fail, and the cares and anxieties of this life are counted as nothing when we allow ourselves to see God as He is... eternal and unshakeable. What are these months of strenuous uncertainty when compared with eternity? Minutes may freeze on the face of a watch, and things may not turn out like we think they should, but this hope in GOD trumps all time and all pain and even death if we will hold fast to Him and refuse to deny Him in the face of difficulty and trial.

Lord strengthen my hands to hold firm, no matter the outcome. May You always be more dear to me than a "yes" or a "no".

Elbow Room, Small Appliances, & Clarity.

I don't know how to receive gifts without this constant low-rumbling feeling that I don't deserve them. That I haven't earned them.

Gifts from others, yes, but most especially gifts from God.

We are in a season of extreme change. There are more question marks floating around our heads than definitive periods. It's hard for me to bend down and scrub my baseboards right now because I don't even know if that baseboard will belong to me in a short amount of time. Something deep in my gut longs for a little more than this 1100 square foot house that holds all 5 of us and our belongings, but this longing in my gut hits a brick wall in my mind and I somehow feel better telling myself that I don't need or deserve such an outrageous dream. I have been blissfully happy in this home for the majority of the last 6 years, but I'm suddenly beginning to yearn for more.

"I need to be able to make 1100 square feet work. There are people in the world who live in huts with dirt floors for God's sake! How can I possibly justify not being able to make this 1100 square feet work?!?!"

These thoughts hound me until I become vaguely aware that the voice of God does not operate in such a way- berating and confusing and making one feel wretched and unworthy. His voice comes with hope and conviction and peace and life! So I try to ignore the part of my brain that has convinced itself that it needs to sit quietly in the corner, keeping its heart-requests quiet.

"Be the child that doesn't rock the boat. Be the child that doesn't require special attention or favors. Be the child that doesn't pester."

The problem is, that is EXACTLY the child that God commands me to be! I am to ask and pester and long and dream before Him! I am to pound the door and frazzle the judge and ask like a child whose heart is set on that ONE thing in life like a shark after blood.

"I want a Red Ryder BB Gun with a compass in the stock and this thing which tells time!"

Does asking mean that I am guaranteed to get what I want? (Currently, in my case, a little more elbow room for my family to expand into?) No! Absolutely not. I am not guaranteed anything in this life other than a desperate need for God. But by not even trusting His goodness enough to ask for the things that are in this heart that He created? What treason!! God has never once demanded that I not speak unless spoken to! He has never once commanded me to stifle everything that makes my heart surge to life! All he asks is that I ask... in honesty and truth... trusting that His answer will be good and trustworthy, no matter what it may be.

It makes me feel so silly, but so ALIVE... this asking big things of God. Are all of my requests bathed in spirituality and high virtue? Heck no! One of my most recent requests has been for a small kitchen appliance, of all things. Is a small kitchen appliance something to bother to the God of the Universe about? I'm beginning to believe... yes.

YES!!!

He cares for you! Not the spiritual facade of you, but the real you! The one with the mess all around and these raw desires beating in your chest! And, oh imagine... just IMAGINE the glory and honor and praise He will draw from your heart and your lips when your big & small requests come to fruition! Even a small kitchen appliance will seem a holy relic then, almost too holy to touch with bare hands, because it is most assuredly a gift directly from the hand of the God of the Universe, who cares for you.

So, I'm scrawling my requests out on a journal page... writing my heart out on paper... and seeking to know His heart in His Word so that my desires will slowly, over a lifetime, begin to look more and more like His own. Like an old married couple who can finish each other's sentences, my desires and requests will, by the grace of God, become mere extensions of His thoughts and His heart. For now, it's elbow room and small kitchen appliances and clarity. And I believe that the God who pours out blessings on those who could never even hope to deserve them or earn them hears me!

I believe that He hears me, and that He cares.

Opposites React.

My kids are so completely opposite of each other it makes me wonder if they even have the same mom. Maybe I just dreamt about giving birth three times? Maybe I only really gave birth once and the other two just followed me home one day? Stranger things have happened, I'm sure.

As I type, Ezra is in his bed having a bit of a conniption fit because his left nostril is ever-so-slightly stuffed up. He is sniffling and blowing his nose so loudly every four seconds or so that I can hear him from the other side of the house and I keep finding myself yelling things like "BREATHE THROUGH YOUR MOUTH! No.. your mouth! Your MOUTH! THE HOLE THAT IS NOT YOUR NOSE!!"

He won't stop, of course. And I can't reason with him. He is un-reason-with-able. This is the kid who just mastered the art of blowing his nose for the first time earlier today (seriously) and who has no grid for dealing with pain. None whatsoever. At the slightest twinge of discomfort he drops like a weight and just starts... freaking out. And shaking. Nothing can get through to him when he is in this state. He is always fine... a tiny scrape or an itty-bitty cut, but it's almost like his brain doesn't get the memo that he is not, in fact, mere inches from the pearly gates.

And then there is Myer. If this kid's hair was on fire, he could not be bothered to tell you. Trying to find out what is bugging this kid is an almost impossible feat. The more I question and press and ask, the more he retreats. This is exasperating on a completely different level. I have one child who informs me every time a hair on his head moves a little to the left, and I have another who won't tell me if all the hairs on his head are engulfed in flame. What IS a mother to do?

Maybe Truman will fall somewhere in the middle of these extreme boys of mine, bringing a perfect balance and equilibrium to our family dynamic.

More likely, however, he will end up on some whole different and new plane of extremes... regularly hanging from the light fixtures and gnawing on chicken bones or something.

Ah, motherhood. The land of perpetual "wait... WHAAAAAT?!"

The Brave Fear.

Sometimes I feel so brave.

I hold nothing too tightly and am ready to leap at any moment. Change makes me giddy and I really, honestly mean it when I tell God that I will go anywhere and do anything as long as He is with me.

Moving to Oklahoma six and a half years ago was a leap. We didn't know the "how what when where why's" of anything at all. We just knew it was time to get out of California and there was an open invitation here. That was all that we needed! I remember praying that same prayer all those years ago.... "Lord I will move ANYWHERE and do ANYTHING as long as I get to be doing what You are doing." I had been known to say "I would live in a BOX in the middle of NOWHERE if that was where God wanted to use me." And I really really did mean it.

He heard me, took me literally (ha!), and moved me to a state that meant nothing to me back then but hokey cowboys and (really flat) red dirt. And also.... tornadoes. Okay, God! Here we goooo!

And it has proved to be the most amazingly rich and rewarding and wonderful season of my life here. I've healed from spiritual wounding, I've fallen in love with the Church, with community, with this city, and I've come to realize that everything is grace. I've grown to LOVE staying at home and raising my boys and I've learned that what I am doing here within these walls has infinite worth and value and is more than enough. I could never thank God enough for bringing me here during this season of life.

Once again, I find myself in a state of exciting unknowns. I find myself in the poise of leaping. What will that look like? No idea yet. Maybe it's a newness here, maybe it's a newness there... but I find myself standing with my arms thrown open, saying it again in my heart... "I will go ANYWHERE and do ANYTHING as long as You are with me! I'd rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked!" And I start to feel so noble in that prayer, so brave! Like I could fling myself off a mountain and know I would be caught up in the wind!

And yet...

...and yet all of these feelings of faith and assurance come to a screeching halt when I hear a still, small voice ask me, "Yes, but how much more of yourself are you willing to give?"

It's like, God, you can have my house and my security and my comfort and my STUFF and even my children and my marriage because You are GOOD and I trust you! But when I feel Him asking to come closer to my heart, to tear down a wall or two and expand things a bit in there, to grow our intimacy and die to self completely... I run cold. Fear grips. Backtracking ensues. I try patching up the floodgates I've thrown open in faith moments before.

Oh Lord, the things you'd find in there... I think we're both better off where we are at, don't You? This safe and chummy distance we have going on...?

All the while, though, I know the truth. The thing is... I can move to the most desperate place on the globe and serve the most desperate people on the earth in the name of God, but if I don't let that very same God consume me and sweep me away and be my everything, then... I am missing it! Location alone, adventure alone cannot be my substitute for deeper intimacy with God... for letting Him call down my walls like Jericho so He can storm in. Nothing that I do, no matter how noble it looks from the outside, will have any lasting strength, any eternal value, if I am not doing it from a completely surrendered & conquered heart.

So here I am now, toeing the edge of something big, ready to leap, yet at the same time... really aware for the first time of what is being asked of me.

Suddenly, I am not so brave. Suddenly, I am terrified.

Sure, I am willing to surrender my adorable house, my cozy daily routine, my 5 year "plan".... but am I willing to surrender my own HEART?

Even now, I can't help but feel that I am better off here in my terrified state than I was before in all my confidence. I can leap in faith until I am blue in the face, and God will be faithful to catch me and be gracious towards me, but what He is really calling me to, what He has always been calling me to, is more of Himself. Always, always, always... Himself.

Will I be found willing? Lord, in Your grace, let it be true! Conquer this fear, and help me! Sound the trumpet and break it all down. Cause me to want YOU more than the next "thing", the next adventure. Help me to desire Your nearness more than any other thrill that this earth can give...

Passion.

As I type, my husband is far away in Atlanta, Georgia- trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he gets to play his viola with the Charlie Hall band at Passion 2012 in front of 45,000 people at the Georgia Dome tomorrow.





Also as I type, far from the roar and lights, I have just tucked away our children in their beds for the evening- wiping goopy noses and administering breathing treatments and medicines out the wazoo for a certain sick little boy of mine who struggles with asthma and allergies and eczema. Oh, and as a bonus for this week- eye infections!





(He really is doing much better tonight than he was last night... poor sweet little Myer!)

I can't even explain the state of my heart tonight. It feels like it's about to burst through the walls of this quiet little home. I feel so blessed to be here caring for all these boys, and it feels good and right and pure. There really is nowhere else I'd rather be! Yet at the same time, I also feel tremendous excitement and joy and desire to be in Atlanta with my husband... getting to see his wildest dreams come true and experience the fruition of a lifetime of prayers on my part and his- his passion for playing music that glorifies God and encourages His bride, the church!

It feels like a very symbolic thing that is happening in our lives (for such a time as this!) and for a very specific reason. Where we stand right now, there are a lot of unknowns. We don't know where we'll be or what we'll be doing or what our lives will look like a year from now- as 2013 dawns bright and the confetti falls once again on soil all around this tired globe.

But we do know one thing.

It will be a new, grand adventure, and God will NEVER fail us.

He is faithful. He is faithful to let us see and taste a bit of our dreams in a season that has felt so thirsty for hope and substance... for answers you can grab onto and sink your teeth into. He is faithful to hear the cries of a simple housewife who longs to see her husband's oldest and deepest dreams come true. He is faithful to grow a boy straight into the heart of music and then give him an instrument he can cup underneath his chin and make sing. He is faithful to finish what He begins, and He is faithful to encourage all along the long and difficult way.




My husband is a painting contractor. Day in and day out he labors with his hands and brings his best and most honest work to the table for clients who may or may not appreciate all that he pours into them and their homes. His hands are rough and calloused and sometimes they bleed and he doesn't even realize the red is running down. But for as tough as his hands are, his heart... his heart is soft! His heart is tender! He longs for beautiful things and carries weighty giftings on humble and bowed down shoulders! And tonight... this week... this is a YES and an AMEN to that man who carries this family so gracefully through the muck and mire of this world! And my heart is just bursting with honor and pride in him, and gratitude and thanksgiving to the God he loves and serves so well.

I am overwhelmed. I am undone. I am here saying YES and AMEN as well. 2012 is going to be an amazing year.

"...I am God, and there is no other. I am God, and there is none like me, declaring end from beginning and from ancient times things not done, saying, 'My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish my purpose!' I have spoken, and I will bring it to pass. I have purposed, and I will do it."

-Isaiah 46:9-10,11

The Only Thing That Will Remain.

The other day I was transferring all of the pictures from my phone to my computer, and, let's just say it had been awhile, and there were almost 2000 images dangling on the edge of existence by nothing but the thread of an iPhone memory card- including most of truman's newborn photos and the first moments of his life- when all of a sudden it hit me.

My life was literally flashing before my eyes.

The images were careening across the screen in quick succession and they were all jumbled up, in no particular order, and instantly the world around me blanked out and the images were all that I could see, only they were those moments as I remembered them in full color and sound and touch and I realized... this is it! This is what life on earth stacks up to- this quick vapor, this fading grass, this moment's breath of time that we have on this planet and then we are... gone! And these images were pounding up on the screen relentless but each one of them was a throbbing of the heart inside my chest and before I could catch my breath there were tears smudging all the photos together and splashing down hard on the desk.

I was not sad. I did not feel regret or pangs over lost time.

The tears were skirting the edges of an awe-struck smile.

It was so... beautiful.

There were little boys in batman costumes and goofy first grins and the 95 foot ceiling of a train station in Kansas City that could pull a song right out of your lungs just from the sight of it. There were pictures of outfits and rainbows and teakettles... Warm cookies and water towers... sunrises and sunsets. There were pictures of the man I love, laughing, and of our little chalkboard in the kitchen with Ezra's heart-rending reminder that "God is GRATE!"

Life is short and what will we leave behind? We can take nothing with us when our time here is up. No money, no trophies, no spouses or children or friends. Just ourselves, alone, and the things we've personally stored up in heaven... the love we've poured out on the needy and hurting and lost without any thought of selfish gain.

We can take nothing, but that does not mean that we will not leave something. The things we do and the choices we make on this earth will affect generations.

This is a reality that I feel like our culture doesn't seem to acknowledge these days. We make choices for our pleasure without thought of choosing the harder way of character... character that will shape our children and shape the entire world long after we're gone.

As the images flashed, I was moved. I want to leave behind a legacy of character and faith and children who stand for what's right. I want to savor the beauty in the small moments and live a life of thanksgiving and praise. I want to smile more and laugh with my head thrown back... I want my children to remember me as a happy woman who knew her God.

I am so grateful that God used this transferring of pictures to remind me of what has real value. I am thankful that I got to see my life flash before my eyes NOW, rather than when it was too late to do anything about it.

I am choosing to pour myself out rather than fill myself up. I am choosing to dance with my son by the Christmas tree rather than stress about the dishes in the sink. I am choosing to live HAPPY in my moments- leaving behind love and storing up love- because I see now that love is the only thing that will remain when all else is shaken and stripped away.

thankful.

It has been a longer absence than i anticipated, yes.

The days have been so full and what they say is true... when you start really paying attention to the little moments in front of you, life explodes with rich meaning and other things lose their flavor in comparison.

The Internet has seemed a bit like a dry rice cake sitting here after I've stuffed myself with a savory Thanksgiving feast and spent more time in prayer and reading and journaling. I've had a harder time than anticipated picking it back up again, and for that I apologize.

This Thanksgiving was the most meaningful season of thanks I have ever experienced. This journey of hunting down things to be thankful for had me ripe and primed for the season and the number one thing that I was thankful for this year was for my new heart of gratitude (still in training) that is causing me to love life and enjoy laundry and find daily happiness again.

Christmas lights are appearing now, and my boys are in heaven. Everywhere we go, their little eyes are scouting for the strands of gold and green and red hung with such care on houses that we would otherwise pass by in the dark, unknown.

Truman's eyes absorb the shimmer and reflect back complete wonder and awe, and this alone could make me wish it was christmas time all year long and forever.

He makes everything new and soft and lovely.

My sweet sister-in-law, Candace, was here for Thanksgiving, and the time spent cozied up on the couch, all of us buried under piles of blankets, talking deep and real and true over hot cups of tea, is one of my new favorite memories. She has a heart of gold that rings clear when you sound it. We love her infinitely.

The air is getting cold and the skies are sharpening. I find myself desperately hoping to find blankets of white outside my windows when I wake. Snow makes me feel warm inside, and I long for its sound-absorbing hush all year long.

We decorated the tree on a Sunday night. Sunday nights have recently become our "no electricity" nights (excepting for Christmas lights, OF COURSE!) and we spend them as a family over board games or books. The boys have flashlights and we light candles and the ever-pressing noise of the outside world is silenced as we fumble around in the dark.

It has been incredible.

This family of mine is worth all of the strugglings with identity and laying down of self that I have wrestled through these past eight years and it will still be worth it all, no matter what arises, in the years to come. I look around this filled-up-to-the-brim little house most days and just shake my head in amazement. What a gift this season of life has been. What a long, and often times confusing, journey that has led me straight into such clarity and purpose!

God truly is the author of all history, in advance. He has guided each of my faltering steps directly to this place, and I can feel Him calling me on again. I will follow, no matter what or where, with even more confidence than before, because I see now that He is always & forever good, and His purposes will never be, CAN never be shaken apart.

Steadied.

Yesterday was one of those days that seeps down in to the bone level and aches. The nights have been rough with little Tru, and Myer is in this phase where I swear he is trying to make me want to send him away to baby boot camp until he's at least 4. These days of counting gratitude have been life-transforming, but there are still those days, you know? Where everything your eyes rest upon make you grumble instead of sing and you somehow feel that God owes you a home that stays clean and children who play quietly for hours and never whine or need you for anything. UGH, just saying that makes me feel like a total doofwad. Living as if GOD owed ME something! It's a miracle I haven't become a lightning rod by now. haha.

Even in the midst of days like yesterday, though, I feel an underlying foundation that wasn't there before. Maybe I should say the beginnings of a foundation. All these days of counting thanks have begun to build a trust in the goodness of God that definitely was not there before. As I'm learning to live aware of God's gifts of grace in each and every moment, in each and every breath, I am realizing something... I am realizing that, oh heck! God really is GOOD! Look at how the light bars from the window are waving on the shower curtain and how the fast moving clouds cause it to pulse and strobe! I am captivated and in awe and I lay another pebble down on the foundation of believing God loves me and only has good intentions towards me. How have I lived for so long blind to my moments? And all the goodness stuffed down full inside each and every single one?

I may have stumbled back into discontentment yesterday, but even in that there is a gift. A reminder of how very much I don't want to fall back into living that way. As I said, the day pulled heavy on my bones and made me feel old and thin. Who wants to walk in that day after day? Not me. Not any more. I've tasted and seen.

Today is already proving to be much better. My husband, seeing the weariness in my eyes, let me sleep in this morning... until ELEVEN O'CLOCK. He had the boys to school and the house tidied up and the baby napping by the time I pulled myself out of bed. You know how the Bible talks about loving those who grumble against you and it being like hot coals heaped upon their heads? Is my hair on fire? After such a hard and grumble-filled day yesterday, God's grace is heaped upon me afresh through the loving servitude of the husband that THAT HE GAVE ME.



Forget the pebbles... I'm laying down a whole SLAB on the foundation today.

Life has never been so steadied, and I have never felt so loved.

eight years.

#330 on my list of 1000 thanks- A family that will chase the sunrise with me.

There are so many things happening below the surface over here, and our minds are running at break-neck speeds trying to chase all the pieces so we can eventually, hopefully, make sense of the puzzle.

For now, all we know is that God is speaking. Con uno megaphono. He has something big on the horizon, but for now it looms off just out of reach, a shadow outlined against the sky.



#357. bumblebee & obi wan.

I have never known God to be so near. I have never known God to be so real. I have never known God to be so... intimately intertwined in my everyday story. I wake up excited these days, hope surging through my veins and humming out through my vocal chords as I sing "You are good, you are good, when there's nothing good in me!"

I am reveling in my weaknesses for the FIRST time in my life, because in those moments, when I allow Him to, He is proving Himself strong and faithful. O, Dichotomy of God! When I am most frail, it is then that I am something He can rebuild city walls with! When my need is greatest and everything in me feels dark like ink, it is then that the grace of Him burns so bright I can hardly look!

Today Chris and I are celebrating eight years of marriage. We went out to dinner on Friday for an early anniversary date and felt the favor and happiness of God on us the whole time. The hostess led us straight to the best table in the restaurant... a booth seat overlooking the lake and the lighthouse and the most beautiful sunset I have seen in ages. Afterwards, at coffee, the barista winked and gave us our drinks for free and we sat at a table-for-two and giggled like teenagers in love. Best anniversary gifts EVER.




#350. eight years of joy.




#351. anniversary skies.


I am so honored to have this man lead me through this life. He makes adventures feel God-grounded and the mundane feel like the most important and holy of tasks. He sincerely thanks me for washing dishes, caring for boys, cooking (bad) food, and vacuuming carpets. He honors me with his words (even when I'm not around!) and he is quick to serve me, making me feel like I'm the only woman in the room, always.

What more could a girl ask for??

I could fill 1000 thanks with his love alone...




...and have a hundred more of his babies. hahhaha.

;)

Sibling Portraits, Oil on Wood.

I have two amazing older brothers.

My oldest brother, Jared, is a man of intellect and integrity. He recently applied to medical school after many years of working as a civil engineer. This courage of his speaks loudly to me... makes me remember that our days on this earth are short, and why not live them bold?

My middle brother, Jaxon, is a man of generosity and passion. He does things with paint that don't seem humanly possible. His humility and kindness towards everyone, no matter their stature in this world, make me want to be a better person.

I love these two men dearly. Recently, my mom commissioned Jaxon to paint us three siblings so she could hang the portraits in her home. They are oil on wood, and stunning...















If you or anyone you know ever want a portrait done, I KNOW A GUY.