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called to wait: the hope of glory through the Lenten season.

Lent. The season of waiting. Winter to spring. Cold to warmth. Death to Resurrection. Can you imagine if, like Christ’s life, all of ours were written down for the world to read? Wouldn’t it be amazing to see the plot lines drawn out in front of us–God weaving timelines and plans to craft beautiful stories of how He has grown and changed us over time? What He has done with timing and sequence to draw out our lives like literary works of art?

I have no doubt that God has planned timing in my life in the same way that He has planned the seasons. There is rhythm and pattern, sameness and variation in all of the right places. Though I’m challenged at times to find the purpose in an experience while I’m having it, I can always look back and see where things makes better sense than I’d imagined they would. We are always evolving and learning through what God allows into our lives.

When I can’t see or make sense of what is in front of me, I take great comfort in trusting that I’ve heard God’s truth and seen His goodness, many times over. I know that He gives me just enough information to carry me through, which I consider grace. This keeps life feeling like an adventure, which is SO beautiful, even in the unknown.

I can’t see more than a few feet in front of me, and there is freedom in it. “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has troubles of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” I can live out this wisdom more and more as I trust more deeply that my plans pale in comparison to the Lord’s. What can I know that He has not already considered?

When my life correlates so directly with the timing of seasons, I can see most clearly that God is at work. I know that He knows my literary heart, and that I find peace–joy, even–in finding the patterns and making connections. As we wait for a true spring in the midst of a relentlessly lingering winter (at least here in the Midwest), as we prepare for the remembrance of Christ’s death and wait with expectation for His Resurrection, how fitting that we would also wait for our own?

“Yet you desired faithfulness even in the womb; you taught me wisdom in that secret place. Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity. Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.” -Psalm 51.6-12

Please let it be so, God, that I would be faithful to you in the waiting; that I would be worthy of your work in my life. At the foot of the cross, Lord, I find rest. At the heart of this Lenten season, Father, I find your Holy Son. Thank you for His story. And thank you for His humanity, that we can see ourselves in His struggle and rejoice in His Resurrection as we long for our own.

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weighty mountains will move.

I’ve faced new adversity this week and experienced both deep struggle and great peace. This contrast is significant to me, and the battle to strike a balance is so palpable and real. I have teetered on a tall, tall fence–fear and worry and hopelessness on one side, and God and grace, rest and joy on the other. Invited into our lives, God’s relentless pursuit and presence is unparalleled in power. I am amazed.

Last week, I went for my annual checkup. I am 32 and generally quite healthy. I never go to the doctor expecting for the sky to fall–I just head there, glad that my next wellness visit will be 365 days later. I have been so fortunate.

This visit did not meet my vision.

My doctor noted several areas of concern and ordered a few big (to me) tests. I trust his judgment almost implicitly, and I know that he doesn’t regularly jump the gun. We are always straightforward with one another–something I appreciate so highly about him. Because of this, he tells me things honestly and doesn’t mince words or thoughts, good or bad. I’m glad and I want it that way. But I’d heard words like mass and cancer and “healthy two years from now…” and I couldn’t get them out of my head. Despite his encouragement not to worry, fear welled up easily and quickly. I tried to look past myself and my thoughts, but I wasn’t able. I looked to my army instead.

I shared with a few close friends and our closest family and I asked for prayer. Ok, I begged for prayer. And I begged in prayer. My tests were scheduled for a whole week later, which seemed like a lifetime. I spent the weekend trying to be distracted and noticing every little thing about life….our kids, our relationships, the sunrise, the sunset, the sense that God was right here with me, in spite of my penchant for worry and all of the looming possibilities. In moments, I could block out all of the negative thoughts and what if’s, and in others, I was terrified. Still human over here.

I think my mind wandered to 1,000 places. Diligently fighting back the bad thoughts was hard, hard work, but I had so much help. And I have to say, even when I let myself slip into the very worst possibilities, I found God reminding me of the good. Quite gratefully, I tasted a new longing for the promises of eternity. I gained empathy in a new light. I found myself relishing moments I often look past. I wish it didn’t take such dramatic and traumatic experiences for me to pay this notice in the daily, always, but I am thankful for the practice. Grace showed up in the opportunity to exercise my pursuit and recognition of Christ.

I have been to the most desperate places of my heart this week, dear friends. I have begged on my knees. And I have rested in some of the greatest peace. It is WORTH it to pursue Christ. So, so worth it. He can meet us where we think there is only room for despair–and He WANTS to–isn’t that crazy?! All we have to say (and I did this a lot this week when I didn’t have words) is JESUS. With that, we’ve invited Him in. Weighty mountains will move.

My tests were Tuesday and Wednesday. I was so encouraged and blessed by all of the texts and loving “thinking of you” messages filling up those two days. I felt surrounded in lonely, isolating places. I am not a good patient, but we muddled through. And after the tests were over? Peace. So much peace. Even before the results came in. I’ve since heard from two doctors–one mine and one new, and mine had great news. A normal CT scan, ruling out every major abdominal issue or concern. You can imagine how much my heart danced at that news! The weight of that worry, lifted in an instant. The second bit of news wasn’t as simple, but what I’ll say is that God is busy at work answering prayers. Still, peace, despite the unknowns that we’ll sort through in the weeks to come.

A grateful heart doesn’t really cover where I am today. There is no way I could experience such rest or peace or joy outside of God. I am overwhelmed by His presence, truly. And I am waiting expectantly, hopeful as I get to sit back and watch what God will do. No matter the outcome, this is all a part of my story and I will praise Him in the waiting. He is the only one with enough grace to wash over me completely and to water down my biggest fears.

If you do not find rest in the arms of a loving God, where do you go for true peace? If you don’t know where to begin, but you need peace desperately, the ask is actually simple: Jesus? Jesus, I need you. Can you find me in this mess? I don’t want to do this on my own. Help.

He doesn’t even have to look for you–He knows right where you are. He knows right where we are. And He wants to be invited. Our messes and our failings don’t surprise Him, and He does not condemn. He just…loves. Where are your mountains today? What do you need God to move? Believe that He can do it, and He will. No one can know better what we need than the God who created us. I believe that with all my heart.

grace and peace beyond measure, dear ones.

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Psalm 91

1 Those who live in the shelter of the Most High
    will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
    he is my God, and I trust him.
3 For he will rescue you from every trap
    and protect you from deadly disease.
4 He will cover you with his feathers.
    He will shelter you with his wings.
    His faithful promises are your armor and protection.
5 Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night,
    nor the arrow that flies in the day.
6 Do not dread the disease that stalks in darkness,
    nor the disaster that strikes at midday.
7 Though a thousand fall at your side,
    though ten thousand are dying around you,
    these evils will not touch you.
8 Just open your eyes,
    and see how the wicked are punished.

9 If you make the Lord your refuge,
    if you make the Most High your shelter,
10 no evil will conquer you;
    no plague will come near your home.
11 For he will order his angels
    to protect you wherever you go.
12 They will hold you up with their hands
    so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.
13 You will trample upon lions and cobras;
    you will crush fierce lions and serpents under your feet!

14 The Lord says, “I will rescue those who love me.
    I will protect those who trust in my name.
15 When they call on me, I will answer;
    I will be with them in trouble.
    I will rescue and honor them.
16 I will reward them with a long life
    and give them my salvation.”

 

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expect the Lord.

“Wait and hope for and expect the Lord; be brave and of good courage and let your heart be stout and enduring. Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord.” Ps.27.14

We’re always waiting for something, aren’t we? At this time of year, in this part of the world, no matter what else we’re waiting for, we’re at least wondering when spring will finally arrive. If that’s the only thing, it can still feel like a lot, with this thick, heavy blanket of snow covering all signs of life and hope.

But it’s not very often the only thing. I think winter perfectly amplifies this sense in all of us that we’re supposed to be waiting on something. We are. In everything, we’re supposed to be waiting on God–and we’re even called to be hopeful and expectant in that waiting. This can be SO very hard. I know it. I know the feeling deeply, especially as of late, when it seems like I am leaning on God in all of the waiting for all of the things.

It’s a beautiful, vulnerable, trying place to be.

I’m feeling so stripped down right now. Like God is doing something waaaaay down deep, at the core of who I am, in the most cathartic, challenging, put-your-whole-trust-and-self-into-your-faith-in-me kind of ways. I honestly feel so bare that I keep turning to God as my default because nothing else even makes sense. Yikes. Nothing else even makes sense? No. Nothing else is an even remotely attractive option. Is it possible that this was the way things were supposed to be, for this reason, all along?

I need God so intensely that everything else pales…there’s no other good solution. No quick fix. No miracle bandaid. Nope. Just me and God, sifting through it all, and me, trying to be open enough to the process to be refined and formed and made more like Him, for His glory.

It’s all so very raw and incredible. God’s plan is perfect–in hardship and in suffering, in celebration and in joy. In joy in the midst of suffering. Perfect. And there is unspeakable peace when become people of invitation to God, trusting that we can wait for Him. Hope for Him. Expect Him to show up.

He is showing up, people. I’m putting all of my eggs in one basket on that one. I can’t even fathom why I ever thought there was a better place for those crazy, fragile, hopeful eggs to be. Except that I’m broken like the rest. Totally and completely broken without Christ, before Christ.

I have never needed Jesus more than I need Him right now. None of us have. We need Him every moment of every hour of every day. I’ve had moments when I thought I didn’t need Him. When I figured I could handle things on my own. Not a whole lot changed for me in those seasons. It was fairly hopeless, me trying to make a go of life in my know-it-all way. But things are changing mightily now. I believe it wholeheartedly, even when I can’t see it.

Once you tell the Lord you’re ready for Him to move, get ready. He’s gonna move. Wait for it. Hope for it. Expect it with all you have in you. And know that there is life springing up under all that bitter cold, that tired ground.

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when your heart is troubled.

Henry and Eloise,

Like so many grown ups around you, my heart is heavy with the news of things happening around the world over the past few days, weeks and months. You are still so small, and it brings me peace to know that, for now, your hearts and minds are shielded from the harsh realities of evil and hatred that the grown ups around you are grappling to process. Thank goodness for your innocence and naivety at this age–it is so hopeful to look at you both and see the way that you approach life with such freedom and enthusiasm. As your mama, it is so beautiful to get lost in your world with you and tuck away from the darkness that tries so hard to weigh down the days otherwise. You are reminders of our faithful God and His urging to us to have childlike faith.

I need a good dose of childlike faith when I read the news and see modern day persecution blasted all over its pages. I need to cling to the very basic Truths you are beginning to understand as children of God–His love and our ability to totally rest in His plans, His joy, His peace. I need to show you through my own life just how much I put my faith in Him and His sovereignty, and I hope I can set a great example of this for you, if even a little bit at a time.

You don’t need to know what’s happening in the world around you just yet. You will be plenty aware of it in time. Goodness knows, I wouldn’t do you any favors to teach you to fear the things of this world, and I pray that as much as is possible, you won’t. I also pray that you will grow mightily in your faith. Put your trust in God and CLING to His Word and His Truth. Dive into Psalm 91 and REST in his promise that you need not fear terror in the night, or flying arrows in the day. If you choose Him, God will remain your place of safety; His promises will arm you and protect you.

Be wise and vigilant, little ones. Put your energies into knowing God more and more. LIVE in his Word. Hide His Truth in your hearts. Do not be troubled when trouble comes, because Christ has overcome the world and all trouble in it!

I love you more than I can tell you, sweet babies. And as much as it’s my inclination to want to guard you and protect you fiercely when evil shows its face, I know that the safest place for you is in the care of our Mighty and Fearless and Trustworthy God. When your heart is troubled, run to me, absolutely. But run to Him as well. Claim His peace and His sovereignty as you make your way. And be fearless for the Kingdom. It is ever so much more clearly at hand, and the world needs you to arm yourselves with Truth as it makes its way.

Remember the Cross and what it means for your freedom. When you carry it’s beautiful weight with you, when you lift it up as Truth in a broken world, God will use you in ways you can only imagine. Your story has only just begun!

loving you fiercely and boldly today, Hanker and Ella-bee, and praying you up.

mama

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co-travelers and bumpy roads.

I woke up at 10:20am today. First let me say, this is not normal. And (quite) thankfully, I’m not ill. A late start wasn’t exactly what I’d planned for today, but when you fall asleep on the couch in an awful position for six hours, you pour yourself into your actual bed in hopes that the kiddos will sleep one more precious hour in the morning. 10:20am with two young kiddos is basically a dream.

It’s also evidence of sacrifice–in this case, on the part of my husband, who has been through plenty in these past few weeks to justify needing the extra hours of rest. Instead though, he got up and tended to the kiddos’ needs for a long while before I ever came around. And when I did wake up? He asked whether he could make me breakfast or get me coffee. Not coffee out of the pot in the kitchen, but coffee from the sweet little shop down the street. I didn’t take him up on his offer, but I was blown away and filled with gratitude.

Because you know what?

We spent last night hashing out big life things. Hard things. We both fell asleep super late, mid-conversation, and we didn’t go to bed on great terms. We don’t like to make a habit of doing that, but our exhaustion got the best of us last night and it’s how things ended up.

And this morning?

Jason could have chosen anger or frustration, selfishness or justification, and our day would have gone an entirely different way. Instead, he woke up and chose service, love, forgiveness, and thoughtfulness. He chose Christ over sin and our marriage and family over himself. The result is a beautiful ripple effect that equals love and grace in our home today. A ripple that models what doing life together can look like. To our kiddos, to me, to whoever reads this humble blog. I’m SO thankful.

This afternoon, I’m sitting at that sweet little coffee shop down the road, spending a handful of hours writing, praying, dreaming, planning. Because Jason offered up this time, too, staying home with H and E and giving me space to rest and be. And the rewards are gigantic, let me tell you.

-Because my kiddos get to have their daddy to themselves this afternoon, which is beautiful.

-Because I will go home refreshed and ready to face the rest of the weekend, and the week ahead.

-Because I’m looking to forward dating my husband over cards or a movie or a conversation once the kiddos are in bed tonight.

-Because when we work as a team, we can accomplish far more than we’re able to on our own.

-Because choosing reconciliation and peace is always better than choosing unforgiveness.

-Because when men model the love of Christ in their homes, God honors their faithfulness.

-Because we are called to love each other more than ourselves, and Jason doing so today leads me to love him even more.

Marriage is hard work indeed. And at its finest, it is teamwork and Kingdom building work. The very closest example of God’s love and commitment to us. What a glorious gift! The road is not smooth, but bumpy and adventurous. And we are imperfect co-travelers, far better for the journey when we look down the path together, in the same direction.

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