Grasping my Father’s Hand.

Driving into town this morning I was still foggy from a late night of fretting over an issue that continually rears its ugly head in my life.

I’m sure you have none of those, right?

It’s a thirty minute drive, which is usually the perfect length for a podcast.  I had started listening to Sally Clarkson’s latest as I was getting dressed so I finished it about halfway into town. As is so typical of God, it was exactly what I needed to hear this morning. (Go to sallyclarkson.com/blog.  It’s episode #172.  You are welcome.)  Still, though, the fog persisted in my mind.  Thoughts swirled about and I fought to choose joy.  I just wasn’t feeling it.  .

Have you ever been in that place?  Knowing what you should do yet not finding the gumption to get up (physically, mentally, or spiritually) and do it?

I still had about fifteen minutes of driving to go so I switched from my podcast app to the radio.  On one of the local Christian stations a song was just beginning and my first impulse was to move on to the next channel.  I wasn’t in the mood for worship.

I bet you can guess what came next.

It was like a Holy Hand held mine to the steering wheel.  Nope.  Stay right here.  Listen.  Worship Me.

Suddenly the air in my car was filled with words that refused to be ignored, even in my cynical state…

Here I am, God
Arms wide open
Pouring out my life
Gracefully broken


Gracefully Broken by
Matt Redman, Tasha Cobbs Leonard

I forced my thoughts to slow, to focus on these lyrics that I have heard and sung many times.  Words I believe…or do I?

Am I living what I sing?  Am I gracefully broken?  To be honest, the lyrics to my life could read more like this…

Here I am, God, arms pried open.  Pouring out my life, forcefully broken.

Ouch.

As much as I want to believe I am a mature believer, the truth is I am often like a toddler, throwing a kicking, screaming fit on the kitchen floor.  For a season I am fine, walking and trusting and holding God’s hand along the way until I come across an obstacle that stubbornly refuses to budge.  “This is not what I thought,” I complain.  “This isn’t what you promised.”  I wriggle my hand free of His and try to push the obstacle out of the way.  I fight and complain and plop down in a huff, sweat beading on my brow and fingers bleeding.

All the while my Father has worked quietly around me, clearing a path, whacking away thorns and brush to allow me to pass safely around the obstacle.  As I have whined and cried He has stayed faithfully steadfast, knowing at some point I will exhaust myself and take His hand once again.

But you know what He never does?  He never forces me.  He doesn’t pry my arms apart. That’s not worship and it is certainly not relationship.  He waits.  He clears the path and stands there with his hand extended.

Are you done?  His gentle words hold a fatherly reprimand.  Are you going to stop the fit now and come with me?  Come on, let’s go.

I reach up from my position on the cold floor and grasp the warmth of His hand.  His strength pulls me to my feet, to His side, and He leads me around the obstacle.

To the other side.

And I am reminded, once again, that though the obstacle may not move, God does.

Sometimes God moves mountains.  Sometimes He moves me.

Mama Bear

The only way joy will become a part of this story is if there is justice.

UPDATE:  The search team has found the remains of children in the area.  Here is a link to the post.  Please continue to pray and speak out.  Human trafficking is a VERY real and present epidemic in our country.  The victims are often children as young as two years old.  The body of Christ must be willing to be the hands and feet of Jesus and help however He may ask of us.

THIS IS NOT A TYPICAL #ALIFEOFSIMPLEJOYS POST.

I don’t know about you, but news articles about children being hurt or abused punch me in the gut.  I cannot bear the thought of an innocent child suffering.

But suffering, too often, occurs.  And even worse is when it is at the hands of an adult who should be protecting them.

This post will be short.  This post has no joy attached to it because what I have seen is dark.  The only way joy will become a part of this story is if there is justice.

Please, friends, go to #operationbackyardbrawl and brace yourselves for what you will see.  The videos (and language) are graphic.  Share all over social media.  Force the powers-that-be to pay attention and fight for these little ones.  The voices of those trying to help are being squelched, videos that expose the atrocities are being removed.  And, to be honest, most of us are more likely to like and share a picture of our friend’s new baby or latest new recipe than posts like this.  Our society is numb.  We just don’t want to think about it, much less confront it.  But you and I both know the power of an army of mamas who refuse to back down from a fight for the lives of their children.  We must fight…on our knees.

Do you believe prayer works?  Do you believe God listens and answers the cries of his people?  I’ll admit, there are many times it has felt like my prayers are bouncing off the ceiling.  And Satan would love to keep it that way.  He wants to render us ineffective, distracted, and focused inward.

The enemy is real.  The level of evil that is permeating the dark places in society is beyond anything I could ever imagine.  Watch the videos.  Listen to the horrific descriptions of what these little ones have been forced to endure.

We must pray for these children.  There may not be much we can do for them physically at this point but we can wage war in the name of Jesus in the spiritual realm.  Let the mama bears rise up and refuse to be silenced!  The children…our children…deserve nothing less.

It will take the power of God to stop this.  And stop it, He will.  One day every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord.  Until then, God has set us, His daughters, here at the watchtower.

Click here.

Then search #operationbackyardbrawl.

SHARE.

PRAY like you have never prayed before.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Reflections of a Broken Rainbow

Dark rain clouds lingered on the horizon, cradled by the distant green hills.  As the sky cleared and long evening shadows reappeared a sliver of color glowed bright against the retreating darkness.  I watched, mesmerized as a matching sliver appeared opposite the original and the two began to slowly reach for one another across the clouds.  Carefully they crawled across the sky, finally meeting in the center and standing proudly as one beautiful reminder of God’s never-failing promise.

My husband and I continued our late-afternoon walk, coming upon a wooden bridge spanning a narrow lake.  In the quiet stillness of the water there it was, the rainbow below mirroring the beauty above.

Earth reflecting Heaven.

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And it was my birthday.

God was showing off just for me, I was convinced.  I felt loved and I felt seen.

Isn’t that the best gift of all?

As I pondered His gift to me, this beautiful reflection, I thought back over the years. (46 of them!)  Like Much-Afraid in the book, Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard, I pulled the stones of remembrance out of my pocket and reminded myself of who my God is and how far I have come.

I’m 46 now.  Not old, but certainly not young.  With age comes clarity…the ability to look back on life through the lens of experience.  Mistakes and failures more often find context and, if we are wise, help us walk through current struggles with increased faith in the One who has brought us this far.

The truth is, sometimes all we can see is the storm.  Sometimes we can barely make out the colors of a broken rainbow.  We reach and grasp but hope is elusive as we face another torrent and God seems so far away.  But as we watch, focusing on the glimmer of hope on the horizon, the rainbow grows and stretches across the dark sky and stands tall and proud over our lives, reminding us that God IS who He says He is and God WILL do what He says He will do.

Will He do it my way?  Probably not.  Will He come through when I think He should, maybe but often not likely.  But will He give context to our suffering and strength to endure the storm?  Yes, absolutely.  In this world, you can bet you will have trouble.  Storms will threaten and thunder will rumble fiercely in the distance.  Lightning may even strike too close to home.  But take heart, sweet friend.  Your Jesus has overcome.  Look, there, in your pocket.  Do you feel them?  Take them out, holding them loosely in your palm as you remember that time God came through, that prayer He answered, the way He turned things around and did what had seemed impossible.  Rub your thumb across the surface of a stone and breathe in the never-ending promises of God.  Breathe out unbelief, cynicism, fear.  He is who He says He is and He will do what He says He will do!

Stand in the rain.  Let it wash over you and feel the gentle arms of your Father lifting your chin as you choose to trust again.  Look at how He is using your life.  You, an earth-bound citizen of Heaven, reflecting the glory of God to a lost and dying world.  Watch the colors, the beginning and the end of your story, reach toward one another and meet in a glorious display of His promises fulfilled.

You and I, we aren’t call to be the rainbow.  God doesn’t ask us to hold up the promise ourselves.  We are called to reflect His glory, to be still and let Him use us.

That is a hard one for me, being still.  My mind likes to run a mile-a-minute and try to figure out how to fix all the issues I face in my own power.  It’s exhausting.  I try to grab the ends of the rainbow and force them together, willing them to stick.

They don’t.

I’m working on stillness.  It’s a long and often painful process, learning to trust God.  Especially when things get messy.

And things are very often messy.

But, try as I might, I cannot get the ends of my story to meet and be beautiful.  God can, though.  And He does.  Then?  In my stillness appears the reflection of His glory.  HE gets the credit.  HE gets the praise.  He completes the rainbow and graces the earth with beauty after the storm.

This is our goal…quiet trust.  Stillness.  Simple faith.  A life of victory over the darkness, shining light into the shadows.  Fighting for the Kingdom but never in our own strength.  A life of rest in our spirits despite the whirling and swirling of the world around us.

So, tonight as I end my birthday, this is my prayer for you and for me…it is very simple but, I believe, very powerful:

May we serve as quiet waters, reflecting the beauty of Jesus.  

Amen.

 

The Hidden Revealed

The sun was climbing high into the sky as I drove my kids to their homeschool tutorial.  The earth had been blanketed by a heavy fog that was still clinging to the land, giving the hills a soft-focus.  We rounded the curve that marked the near-end of our trek when, all around us, we noticed them: Thousands upon thousands of gossamer bowls clinging to the tall blades of grass and the lower branches of the newly-green trees.

What has hatched overnight and spun all these webs?  Is this good or is it a plague?

My imagination might have gone a little crazy for about thirty seconds.

I wanted to take a photo SO badly, but I figured manhandling my cell phone at 70+ miles per hour would set a very poor example for my future drivers, and we were running late so stopping on the side of the road to explore would make for an awkward arrival after classes had already begun. Therefore, I made a mental note to take the time necessary to document this phenomenon on the way home.

We arrived at the tutorial in the nick of time and mentioned what we saw to the tutors, still in awe over the sheer multitude of the webs.  They had seen them before, of course, and said the webs are always there, just not visible until the dew settles on them.  That got me to thinking, as nature often does.

I kissed my babes goodbye and hit the road for the thirty minute drive home, prepared for a quick detour and mini photo session.

Except they were gone.  I squinted to try and see them, maybe picking out a couple here and there if I looked really hard but surprised that in the span of fifteen minutes the lifting of the fog had rendered the thousands of webs almost completely invisible!

“Lord, what do you want to teach me?”  I spoke out loud, knowing God always has a parable waiting for us in His creation.  It declares His glory.  All of it, always.

I drove the rest of the way home in silence, waiting as my mind pieced together truth and compared what I had seen to what I know from Scripture.

James 1:25 (MSG) says,

But whoever catches a glimpse of the revealed counsel of God—the free life!—even out of the corner of his eye, and sticks with it, is no distracted scatterbrain but a man or woman of action. That person will find delight and affirmation in the action.

As a writer, I have found it necessary to keep a way of jotting down notes on hand at all times because I never know where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing when inspiration hits.  And I can make mental notes all the live-long day but by the time I get home to my computer I will draw a complete blank when I try to recall what it was that made my heart burn earlier in the day.  Every. Single. Time. This applies to my walk with God as well!

He is constantly working on us, dealing with weakness, strengthening our strengths, molding and shaping and purifying our lives by revealing the “webs” that have infested our lives.  Like the early morning dew, settling heavy on the land and revealing what has been there all along, God gently settles His attention on the things we thought we had hidden.  This is “the revealed counsel of God” mentioned in the above passage.

And if we are willing, the revelation is beautiful.

It is a loving Father who disciplines his child.  It is a good and faithful God who refuses to leave us as we are because He sees in us who we will become.  It is a tender and attentive Husband who leads and protects His Bride, guiding her away from harm, revealing and washing away the stains imposed upon her by the struggle of living in this fallen world.  He knows we are dust, but never leaves us in the dust.

Oh, how He loves us.

Be encouraged today, dear one.  When you are confronted by your sins and the realization of what has been allowed to lurk in your life threatens to throw you into shame, look up.  Your Heavenly Father is busy, working ever-so-gently to clear out the webs and reveal the bright spring green that is your life in Him!  The window of opportunity is often short, like the sunrise as it crests over the far hills, so take notice when the revelation occurs and let God do what He does best.

He makes all things new.

Excitement!

As you may know, I am a huge fan of Sally Clarkson.  I wrote all about her in this post. She has written several books that have changed the way I live and her podcast is on constant play when I am in my car.

For the past month I have had the pleasure of being on the launch team for the book, The Lifegiving Parent, written by Clay and Sally Clarkson.  (Which means it is for daddies, too!) It has been such a privilege to share and participate in this good work of spreading the word about a message that will change the fabric of countless families.

Well, today is launch day!

Today the book will be in the hands of those of us who pre-ordered!

And today, I’d like to bless you with a giveaway!  🙂

If you will share the link to this post and leave a comment in the comments section of this page telling me so, you will be entered into a drawing for your very own copy of this wonderful new book.  The winner will be announced next Tuesday, so get to sharing!  I’m so excited to get this into your hands, too!  You will love it.

Have a wonderful week!  I’ll be out back on the porch with my nose in the book!

To order click here:  The Lifegiving Parent

 

A Good Word: She Speaks Stories Podcast

I don’t know about you, but I get tired of the droning of a television or radio.  Commercials, not-really-that-funny commentary to fill airtime or fulfill sponsor requirements, and never knowing what might pop up in an ad when little eyes and ears are nearby have kept my TV (and radio) mostly off, except for Fixer-Upper marathons, of course!

Enter the podcast.  I have subscribed to several, listening to them in the car, when cleaning, or at my computer.  I heart a good podcast.  It is such an easy way to fill my mind with truth and biblical encouragement and, sometimes, to get a much-needed good, clean laugh!  Which is why I am here, today, to share one of my favorites with you.

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Several years ago I had the pleasure of meeting Susan Wanderer, a fellow adoptive mama who happens to be raising up three of my favorite Ethiopian sweethearts ever and still manages to minister to countless children and families at her church.  She is a powerhouse of a woman, sold-out for Jesus and has the best laugh EVER.  Last year, she and her friend, Katie, began the She Speaks Stories podcast and it has blessed the living daylights out of me.  Each week is full of stories from women in the trenches, of God’s faithfulness and ability to use our struggles, even our worst nightmares, to make us like Jesus and shine His light into this desperate, dark world.  Susan and Katie interview a different woman each week, crying and laughing along with them (Did I mention Susan’s laugh?  I mean, y’all, I cannot have a bad day when she gets started!  From the gut, slap-your-thighs and grab-your-sides laughter that will lift even the most bah-humbug of spirits!).  And amidst the laughter and tears Jesus is made known.  Beautifully.

What more can I say? Go to iTunes and search “She Speaks Stories.”  It will pop right up, then hit SUBSCRIBE.  You will be so glad you did.  And just click here for the link for you non-itunes people:)

If you happen to read this, I just want to say thank you, Susan and Katie, for taking the time to share your heart and wisdom each week.  God is using you to breathe fresh air into our lives!  (And one of these day’s I’m going to make it to a She Speaks Stories conference! )

Standing Guard

I wish I could have gotten a photo without scaring them off.

The cardinal pair:  Her, pecking quietly at the seeds spilling from the bright yellow feeder.  Him, standing guard from a slender branch just across the narrow strip of grass usually dominated by our German Shepherd.  The wind blew and the branch shivered, but he stood at his post, eyes fixed on his mate.

Something about it captured my attention.

They only stayed for a few moments.  I wanted to grab my camera but knew they would be gone by the time I got back to the window and if I dared to go outside they would surely fly away.  So I stood quietly, framed by morning light and mesmerized by the simple beauty of a male guarding his mate.

She was so calm and content, not even glancing up at him.  She was just doing what every living creature does every day…eating.  Such a simple, normal thing.

Kind of like doing laundry.  All the laundry that piles up in the hamper on a regular basis.  The normal mundane of my day.

Or having coffee alone in the dining room before the kids awaken, sunlight streaming in the tall windows and silence filling the air until the clomp-clomp of bare feet interrupt the quiet and the morning busy begins.

He is there.  Every moment of every day.  Whether I notice him or not, God watches me…and you.  Whether I am mopping floors or sipping tea…or struggling to settle my mind after a stressful day…He stands near, watching.  Comforting in His calm, bringing peace to the very air I breathe if I will just stop and take it in.  My Father, our Father, is a constant presence.

How does this realization affect us?  How does it make you feel?  What does it make you want to do…or not do?  For me, it gives me peace,  boundaries built by love.  When I forget the presence of God I easily lose focus and struggle to make sense of interruptions, pain, and trials.  But when I practice the presence of God, stopping to intentionally breathe in the Spirit-filled air and remember Who is always by my side, I find strength and purpose in the mundane or the struggle. I find safety under the watchful eye of my ever-present Guard.