a diamond in the rough

When Motherhood Chooses You

2012-02-20T06:00:00.000-05:00

I remember sitting around the benched tables of my high school cafeteria. Life stretching long out in front of me and a list of dreams a mile long rattling from my tongue. In all my dreams motherhood was optional. A potential stop along the highway of life. A far off destination somewhere down the road...way down the road.

It is a windy, rainy afternoon. One that keep me cupping a cup of hot tea and pausing in front of the space heater. It is time to awaken the wee one from her nap. She throws back her head and opens her "to be determined" colored eyes. She furrows her brow and it is like staring into a mirror. I've reached my destination and I can't believe I ever wanted to go anywhere else. I thought that my life would be different. I don't mean power suits and leather brief cases. I just mean that I always wanted my independence. I've got a wandering streak a mile long and my internal GPS has always been set to roam. I've clung tightly to the freedom to go and do as I please. Today we will stay indoors all day away from the winter chill, gray skies and sniffling noses of strangers. I will change countless diapers, wipe puddles of drool, cradle sweet baby sighs and I will not remember how this road got me here. I will only know that in this moment this is where I am. Cosmic grace I think I'll call it. To not know how one got to a place, but to know that it is divine and holy nonetheless.

You can only run so far from a heart calling. This baby girl woven in love and threaded through my heart is more than a part of my DNA. She is a part of my sanctification. God's choice of her as my daughter is a reflection of His choice of me as His own. Left to my own devices I would choose red rock canyons and airplane flights across oceans. To be stretched body and soul by a wee one is to travel an uncharted course without a map. I so need a map.

I always wanted to make my own choices. I didn't listen to anyone's suggestions of where to go to college. I hopped a flight to the West just to wander in the woods for six months. I spent a year sleeping under the stars more than sleeping under a roof. I decided that I'd rather watch births than give birth. I danced all around motherhood until finally on the West coast of Africa motherhood chose me.

We talk about women's choice. We have the right to choose what is right for our bodies, our lives, but the truth is that when motherhood chooses you, accept it or reject it, you've been chosen. Inextricably, irreversibly, undeniably you've been chosen and your choice is to embrace it fully or reject it wholly. There is no in between in motherhood. We risk more than our own life if we reject it. Feigned bravery is a life left to worldly adventure. Truth be told it isn't bravery at all. It is avoidance of all that is lasting in this world. Bravery is to choose what is lasting. Like planting a tree in the tender ground of life I am growing into being a mother. Brave work to trust that roots will grow deep and branches will spread long. I am doing holy work that keeps me tethered, body and soul, to this one life. Motherhood, with it's thousand graces has chosen me and I have but one choice in response; grab hold.

Counting the graces of this one life motherhood and all! Counting along with you would be pure joy.

#2191-#2211
baby sighs, midnight cries, early morning kisses, road trips, double naps, going to church for the 1st time, one good night/one bad night, mimis and gigis, curious nieces, precocious nephews, time to pee (ha ha!), pancakes, routines, library books, Valentine's Day, cake, whispering in bed, hot showers (have I listed this a dozen times?), stretch marks, knitted blankets

5 Minute Friday: Delight

2012-02-17T08:45:00.004-05:00

Joining up with The Gypsy Mama for another 5 Minute Friday. Each Friday we link up to write (these days I am making typing with one hand an art- the unexpected joys of having a newborn!) and we don't sweat if it is right or not! It is a boost of creative goodness!

Topic: Delight
GO!

A weekend trip wrecked our routine. Shipwrecked it on the shores of midnight crying and fitful sleep that keeps mama wide-eyed and on the brink of exhaustion. I rock and pray, rock and pray. The praying more for myself than you at times. The clock ticks the minutes and I struggle to engage in the moment. This too shall pass and oh how I will miss you so small nestled in my arms.

Here is the moment, not the minute, that I enter fully. I watch your eyes dance from shadow to shadow in the glow of the nightlight. Eyes seeing in part what your mama has taken for granted to see in full; life. You remind me to slow. You remind me that it isn't in the rush to get laundry folded and counters wiped that we see most clearly. Life can zoom by while we are looking at dirty floors and dusty shelves. You haven't yet learned the dangerously addictive habit of distraction.

I hope you always watch shadows dancing at night.
STOP!

Sometimes You Just Have to Ask

2012-02-06T11:39:00.001-05:00

I wrestle internally as we wrestle externally with car seats and shopping carts and an empty fridge in need of filling. I never made it to the grocery store. Tiny babies can thwart big plans. So off we go on a misty, gray Saturday to fill what is empty.

We trip our way through the first store. Babe asleep and silent. I hold my breath and wonder how long it will last. I wait and wonder for the peace to break. A pang of hunger, a wet diaper, a piercing cry to end our shopping trip. Something has to give- the heaviness I carry makes believe it always does. I wait for these things in silence and the truth underneath my anxiety is sometimes so silly. I wait in silence for all my anxiety to spill into reality and the one thing I want is a stack of buttermilk pancakes and a thick handled mug of coffee. I want to sit and stare across a table at my love and not be worried about staring eyes and a screaming baby.

We pull out of the stores parking lot and I dare to speak my desire. He turns his brown eyes, the ones I could look into every day from here until eternity, and he says, "Is that what you want? Pancakes? I can do that." I begin to protest. We won't get the shopping done. We really shouldn't- money is tight, ya know? He looks me full in the eyes and I know that when my stomach knots and I bury my heart he is just waiting for me to ask. Always waiting for me to speak my heart straight into his own. He pulls the car across lanes of Saturday shopping traffic and into a greasy spoon.

We pile out of the car and into a booth built for two, but now seating three- just the way our lives have stretched to welcome this new little one. The waitress pours my coffee and I cup it close and breathe the steam. We order and wait and it is in the waiting that the tears spill. The hopes and fears that I've shouldered for a month. Am I doing this right? Those moments when I grope in the dark to be a mother when I hardly remember my own mother- am I making do with what little I have?

I'm reminded over my stack of buttermilk pancakes oozing warm butter that I just have to ask.

Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full. (John 16:24)

I want fullest joy. I want joy that spills over onto everyone around me and sometimes that comes from just being honest about what my raw heart needs.

Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? (Matthew 7:9)

Father God knows my deepest needs, but oh how he loves it when his daughter asks. I haven't always asked, but I have always received abundantly more than I could dream. I wipe the syrup from the corner of my mouth and breathe deep. Sometimes you just have to ask.

Counting grace again and again- won't you join the counting?

5 Minute Friday: Real

2012-02-03T10:18:00.000-05:00

Each week me and all the other brave folks who dare link up with The Gypsy Mama write our little hearts out for 5 minutes. We write and sometimes it isn't right, but we do it for the love of writing and sometimes, oh sometimes something beautiful emerges.

Topic: Real

GO!

Sister, lean in close. Closer...closer...I've got something to tell you before I put my makeup on. Before I go into hiding and pull an invisible curtain between you and I.

I don't have it all together and I know neither do you.

At any given hour of the day you can find me hair disheveled and pink bathrobe in need of washing. The baby sometimes screams and sometimes I let her. The dishes in my sink often go days unwashed hidden deep in the recesses of the dishwasher (out of sight, out of mind, right?). Even worse my Bible often goes days unopened- why would a starving woman reject the food right in front of her?

This is the real me. The one that hides for fear that she isn't good enough, not together enough and that grace isn't great enough to cover all my glaring inadequacies. Because if I am real most of the time I'm teetering on the edge of worry over all of the not-dressed-before-noon-baby-screaming-pile-of-laundry-growing-husband-working-late days.

But it occurs to me that maybe this is what makes me real. The sin drenched, weary-eyed, needy woman beneath my mascara is the realest version of myself. The version of myself that knows in the deepest way what her real needs are; a heaping helping of grace.

I don't have it all together and I know neither do you.

Isn't it the truth that sets you free? If the truth set us free than I want to speak the truth, live the truth and be the realest version of myself because that is where grace is. Not in the land of smokescreens and masks, but in the down and dirty of daily life's down and dirty reality. Makeup optional.

STOP!

This Holy Work

2012-01-30T06:00:00.000-05:00

It is 2:00 am as I slide out of my side of the bed and stumble half blind to the bassinet. Your cry is on a crescendo and I scoop you into my arms before it peaks. My college education told me that this work, this giving of self whole and without monetary return, would be a waste of my life. How can anyone know what is wasted if they aren't being measured? A waste of a mind. A waste of perfectly good womanhood. So why do I feel like every drop of me is being used up without one ounce wasted? I don't need a measuring stick to know the depth of the truth at work here.

This is holy work.

Work that requires me to be wholly present. Holy work in all its wearying and wonderful ways requiring the whole of me.

My professors wanted me to believe that what we call "woman's work" is beneath real women. That the work of diapers, lullabies and late night feedings is what women do who can do nothing else. So why this feeling of fullness? Why this heavy feeling of overwhelming responsibility mingled with joy? Why is my life such a contradiction of terms? Jessica Hoover, B.A. in Women's Studies and Philosophy and Mama; I should know better right?

At the risk of being politically incorrect I fill out forms and write "Mama" under occupation. No hesitation and no shame. In a world driven by success and measured by the size of your bank account I am a pauper judging by my empty pockets, but judge me by the fullness of my heart and I'm a queen with the finest of riches.

This holy work requires the whole of me and is making me holy. This "woman's work" is an outworking of grace and so I share it with anyone who happens to cross my path.

Do holy work and be wholly there.
This is the work of us all and it is all grace.

Innumerable gifts are filling my journal these days so I add to the list #2190- This holy work requiring the whole of me.

The Blog, The Baby and The Year Ahead

2012-01-28T14:36:00.000-05:00

My mind is swirling with new writing ideas these days. I keep a pad and pen near by to scribble all these swirling snippets down. Sorry that so few of them are making it from brain to screen. Bear with me as I learn the art of mothering (or begin to learn the art rather- and it is an art, isn't it?). Thanks to all of my faithful readers (and new readers who have stumbled through in recent days) who have blessed me with words of encouragement and who have ogled pictures of my little sweetness and left glowing words of praise and love.

I'm excited about the coming months and the fruitfulness that I am feeling in my heart and hands. I am in the beginning stages of writing my first e-book(s). Yes, e-book(s). I am feeling ambitious and one idea led to another and now all I have to do is finish the writing- easy, right? phhhhhtttt. At any rate, I am eager to get all my thoughts down and into the hands of those who will read my little scribblings and hopefully by grace be blessed. Also FYI, I am writing for Today's Housewife's Family Channel every 4th Wednesday of the month. More of me to love- this is not a commentary on my post-pregnancy body. My posts over at Today's Housewife are a bit different (more informative less creative-writing-on crack) than my typical writing, but definitely something that I think that you will enjoy!

So all that to say, here is a big sloppy kiss and bear hug to all who have been such a blessing to me in the past year. My blog is tiny compared to most, but I love sharing everyday grace with each one of you which makes this labor of love to write out this life in all its hurt, healing, hope and heroism totally worth it. Thanks for reading. I mean it- sloppy kiss and bear hug optional.

What a Birth Doula Really Does

2012-01-28T14:17:00.002-05:00

Remember that time when I had my inaugural post of the year at Today's Housewife and I forgot that it posted 3 days ago? Yep, that is what baby brain will do to you. It doesn't help that I pretty much never know what day/date that it is these days. Better late than never, right?! Well, enjoy a little snippet from me about being a birth doula!

Several years ago I started down the path to becoming a birth doula. I was working with women at a crisis pregnancy center and saw it as a way to connect more deeply with the women I was serving. I have since fallen in love with all things birth! Doulas are becoming more mainstream, but there is still a good bit of confusion and misinformation over the role of a doula. Doulas are a great resource and are worth knowing about if you or someone you love is preparing to welcome a new addition to the family...

Read more of this post over at Today's Housewife!

5 Minute Friday: Tender

2012-01-27T16:35:00.001-05:00

Apparently 5 Minute Friday is the only thing that this bloggin' mama has anytime for these days. Between nursing, diaper changes and wide eyed baby time I'm sliding in here to write my heart out without caring if it is right. Join up with all of us and The Gypsy Mama for your own 5 Minutes!

Topic: Tender

GO!

We've had a mild winter with barely a sign of a hard freeze in sight. Today is almost Spring-like with sun so bright the glint brings a hand to my eyes. My heart has stayed warm this winter. It has been warm with new life and a light that is filling up my everyday even from the inside of this four walled home. From inside these walls an unfurling of girlhood and womanhood has found itself growing and intertwining itself like the sweetest of Spring buds.

I'm finished growing you in my belly, but the growth of you in my heart has only begun.

You have brought a tenderness to my touch and heart that I only remember through the eyes of my 12 year old girl heart. The heart that laid her head against her own mother's chest and breathed tenderness in. I slip my arms under your tiny, bobbling head and I pause with wonder. You need so much and my hands and arms seem so weak to give all. I lift you to my chest. I exhale tenderness straight from my lungs and hope that it wraps itself around your heart, hope it finds a girl heart eager to receive what little my hopeful-new-mama heart has to give.

STOP!

5 Minute Friday: Vivid

2012-01-20T18:11:00.001-05:00

Joining with The Gypsy Mama for another 5 Minute Friday. For 5 minutes of guts and glory we write and don't worry too much about if it is right.

Topic: Vivid

GO!
I've seen the pictures a million times- white knee socks, chub in all the right places, bow atop my head. My mama must have snapped a lifetime of pictures that day. Shuffling through these pictures makes it hard for me to separate fact from fiction in my memory. Who remembers their 1st Birthday? Sometimes I think I do.

If a picture is worth a thousand words then all the photos that fill my shelves constitute volumes of life. The subtext of each snapshot is a vivid reminder that life is unpredictable and each moment begs to be captured.

A back deck. A big cake. A huge cedar tree. A little lady. My daddy's strong arms.

Memories so vivid they leave me breathless.

STOP!

A Full Pantry

2012-01-18T10:43:00.000-05:00

A post from the archives as I remind myself that God will provide abundantly more than we ask or imagine. I'm feebly trusting in this new year that He is faithful and will surely do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A year ago we wondered how it would all stretch...

We stared at our 5 loaves and 2 fishes, eye brows raised and hearts hungry for a miracle.
It was not enough to feed us or carry us through the journey ahead.

It just wasn't enough.
But is there ever enough for the faithless?

A year later and we are counting the overflow. Counting the 12 baskets of leftovers. Never doubt how God will provide the bread and wine of daily life. Abundance is the love language of God. Abundance is the way he showers His children with love. Abundance is how He fills empty souls with the bread of life.

But often I don't hang around in His presence long enough to experience abundance. I run away from the precipice of faith and content myself with a meager pantry. A pantry empty in need of a supernatural filling.

A year of being homeless and finding our home in an abundant God. Our bellies have been filled by faith. Filled by faith by a God who promises that in Him we will hunger and thirst no more.

The Little Things

2012-01-16T06:00:00.000-05:00

It really is the little things.

It really is the small things that make grace pile big.

I'm soaking up all the "little" things. Little smiles, little toes, little sighs in early morning light. You'll have to excuse my speechlessness these days...because, well...I am speechless most hours of the day. Speechless so I don't wake a sleeping one. Speechless with awe at how God can make life come full circle for my good and His glory.

I've easily added another thousand gifts (big and little) to my list of grace in this past week and it leaves me...speechless.

#2177-#2189
the little things, baby sighs, nightlights, our new normal, seeing my own selfishness, health and safety to deliver this little one into the world, working to love each other well (a brave new world with baby- this is much needed wisdom to practice), a mother in law who loves well, the beautiful ache of missing my own mama (and it is a beautiful ache...)

5 Minute Friday: Awake

2012-01-13T21:42:00.001-05:00

5 Minute Friday! Even if I am a little bit late coming to the table- at least I made it! I couldn't resist the topic this week. Visit The Gypsy Mama to see what this little 5 minute exercise is all about.

Topic: Awake

GO!

It is the wee smalls of the morning. Your little lungs are exercising themselves in a mighty way. This world all so new. This air all so much for your little lungs to take in. Your face with that crooked, lazy, unintended smile that you give me in the glow of the nightlight awakens something in my heart. There lies a part of my heart that is unfreezing in the middle of winter in front of the glow of that night light. A dormant part of my life that is coming alive because of your life. My mama heart is awakening to a Spring that is budding with possibility. A Spring that shines hope in all the dark, frozen places.

You sigh. My eyes brim. Is this how my mama's heart felt? Was it bowed beneath Spring blossoms coming alive in her heart at the sight of me just days old nestled in the crook of her arm?

I haven't slept in days, but my heart has never been more awake.

STOP!

Right On Time

2012-01-12T14:04:00.002-05:00

2 Weeks late, but right on time. Our little Millie barreled into the world early Monday morning with one arm out ahead of her like Super Woman. I'm gathering up my thoughts for something like a million blog posts. So much to say. So much to write down to capture each and every moment of this once in a lifetime time.

I thought my heart had healed in huge ways this past year. I think that I can't even know the half of it until I look back a year from now. A year that will find this motherless daughter mothering a daughter. Life come full circle to heal a heart. Thanks to all of you who have grinned and waited over this little one's arrival. Isn't she awesome?

9lbs 1oz and 20 1/2" long

Did I mention that I'm only 4'11" on a good day? Yeah she is a big un' as we say in the South.

Five Minute Friday: Roar

2012-01-06T10:38:00.000-05:00

Linking up with the Gypsy Mama for the first Five Minute Friday of the year! We write without worrying if it is right!

Topic: Roar

GO!

We've got a stubborn little lady on our hands. She is comfy cozy and unwilling to come out. Drastic times call for drastic measures and today we take those measures with hope of quick result. Down the gullet with the castor oil. Gagging and giddy all at the same time. Clary sage rubbed generously on a bulging belly. We'll see how far this takes us. More herbs waiting in the wings to jumpstart this slow labor.

I've written and scribbled for years about birth and women and all that I think we are and can be. I'm no feminist. I take but one title from this world; sinner clinging to grace. I'm a Christ follower who believes that women are unique and created to reflect God's image uniquely. I am woman hear me roar. My roar doesn't sound like bra burning and macho brow beating. No, it is the roar of womanhood lived for the glory of God. The roar that I can hear across this land as women lay down there lives to love their families, husbands and communities well.

Today I lay down my life and roar out a baby girl. One who I hope will roar from the mountain
tops grace lived and womanhood embraced for the glory of God.

Roar with me.

My One Word: Courage

2012-01-02T09:33:00.004-05:00

Last year was my year for being fearless. Fearless while standing in the midst of uncertainty, refugees, joblessness, homelessness, and inadequacy. I learned (if only a tiny bit) that I can stand in the midst of a life swirling with uncertainty and trust a God who neither slumber nor sleeps. Anxiety has no place in the heart of a Christ follower, but only to draw us into deeper prayer and praise of the Father.

This year is my year for courage. There is a big difference between fearlessness and courage.

You can become fearless, but live without courage every day.

Fearlessness is standing in the midst of the swirling madness and trusting that God has led you there and will sustain your paper thin faith. Courage is staring down the future and stepping forward into it throwing caution and fear to the wind. Courage is what a soldier does when he knows that what he is headed for is legitimate to fear, but he believes it is worthy of his life. Courage is active. A moving forward into fear and believing fully that God will not abandon you.

This year of courage means that I am no longer content to live my life on the sidelines of the dreams in my head. Motherhood, writing, ministering out of the overflow of God's grace- these are the missions of courage if I choose to accept.

Joshua 1:9
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”

What one word would you use to describe what you believe God is doing in your heart as we move into this new year? (share in the comment section if you like!)

Last year it was fearlessness and gratitude for me. God showed me how a grateful heart can dismantle fear. He continues to do that as I count grace upon grace. Gratitude has severed fear in my heart and I am hoping the pruning back of fear in 2011 will grow courage in 2012.

#2174-#2176
a restful, peaceful grace, a string of days together, this achingly difficult wait to meet this baby girl

P.S. For all of you wondering if this mama has popped yet...nope. We're over a week overdue. Pray for this little one to make her appearance soon.

The Answer is Always the Same

2011-12-19T09:28:00.007-05:00

A house full for Christmas and a heart (and body) full of life. This year has crawled and flown by all at once and I can't quite figure out how to process it all. How to take the joy, sorrow, conviction, and 365 days of life and collage it together in a way that makes sense. It would be easy to question all that we have experienced.

Did we do the right thing?
Is there a right thing?
Are we where we're supposed to be?
Where do we go from here?
How will all the ends meet?

A year ago we lived with these same questions, a different context, but the same. I'm not sure that we'll ever be free of these questions, but what I now know is that the answer for all is the same. This year has changed me- from the inside out. I've watched fear drip off of me and my heart take on courage like I've never felt. Courage enough to be a mama. Courage enough to walk toward dreams. Courage enough to stare my husband in the eyes and say that I know that God is taking care of us- even if the ends don't meet even.

All I can say is that I think it is this practice of thanks that has loosened my tense shoulders and relaxed my anxious heart. I've listed and I've listed. Through tears, joy and uncertainty I've made the list longer- God has made the list longer. It has been in this listing that the answer has appeared shining through the dim cracks of life. God stoops low to give grace to a people with a laundry list of questions and ingratitude in their hearts.

The answer is always the same.

Grace upon grace. A baby. A man. A Savior. A God who draws near.

I'm celebrating these last couple of weeks of 2011 by counting more and more gifts. Hopefully I'll be celebrating with new life in my arms! Won't you celebrate along with me?

P.S. If the blog waves go silent for a few weeks, forgive me. I'm counting the days, minutes, seconds, until this little one makes her entrance! If I'm silent it is because I'm just drinking in sweet baby sighs and cries. Will you send along some prayers for this new mama? I'd sure appreciate them. LOVE, Jessica

5 Minute Friday: Connected

2011-12-16T09:17:00.002-05:00

Today we write. 5 Minutes. No freaking out about perfection. Just words written to be read. Join up over at The Gypsy Mama to share in the joy!

TOPIC: Connected

GO!

We play ring around the rosies with a 6 foot tall Frasier fir. Are there enough lights? Are there enough ornaments? Will the ribbon reach? You've always hated doing this, but every year you load me up into the car and off we go to find our budgeted $30 Christmas tree. You know how my heart overflows. I think you've come to like it more than you'd admit.

Every year I recount story after story of my mom's insatiable lust for all things Christmas decor. I pull out her tackiest of tacky jewelry from her old jewelry box and wear it proud. Ok, maybe not proud, but tongue in cheek. I retell the family traditions that my little family forged nearly two decades ago. My dad wrestling a pine into a tree stand- words I can't repeat sleeping through gritted teeth. The rest of us, mom, brother and me, poised and waiting to hang the lights and trim the tree bright.

These things keep me connected. They forge a connection through the years of me to a family that only exists in my memories. I think my mother must have something Christmassy to add to those streets of gold this time of year and my dad is simply glad that no one is asking him to stuff an over-sized tree into an undersized stand.

When I gaze at you around the back side of the tree as we pass the matted mess of lights to one another I see more than just my husband. I see a whole history of love and tradition coming alive in our own little family. A life we have made our own wherever we have been.

5 Minute Friday: Color

2011-12-09T08:06:00.004-05:00

Here in my little corner of the web Fridays are for 5 minutes of unbridled writing. No proofreading, no second guessing just 5 minutes to write without worrying if it is right. Head on over to The Gypsy Mama to join the fun.

Topic: COLOR

GO!

When I was small my favorite color was yellow- dandelion yellow. Over the years my taste has refined my favorite shade to hues of green, red and blue. Color has always been a means of expression for me so when I married a man who sees it differently, literally, it was a bit of culture shock.

He is color blind.

His blues are greens and his reds are purple and to him that is all there is. We argued tooth and nail over what color a shirt was or what shade a paint color appeared when we were first married. I stopped arguing with him when I recognized that it is his perspective that I need to break into my all-to-often black and white world. This girl who loves color can often wear monochromatic glasses. He is color blind, but I am regularly stricken with soul-blindness. I desperately need his different way of seeing me and our circumstances in all their various shades. His eyes transpose my often black and white view into a rainbow of color.

He believes in me.
He wants more for me.
He pulls and pulls at this stubborn gal to extract all the color he can.
The colors he sees in me are so much more than what I see in myself.

STOP!

A Labor of Love

2011-12-07T06:00:00.001-05:00

I'm tired. I won't lie. Blogging is having to take a backseat these days and I know this is only the beginning. In spite of all of the bulging belly, waning energy, and general craziness of life I find myself reveling in this Christmas season. I'm an unapologetic fan of Christmas and all that comes with it. Over the last 10 years I have come to love the climax to the redemption story that is the Christmas story. This baby born in Bethlehem is the denouement of a story that God has been writing since before time began. Being a pregnant mama during this season has been a precious time for my heart and spirit. God chose a woman to carry the God of the universe and birth Him into this world, son of God and son of man- an unlikely story for the redemption of our humanity.

I don't have anything profound to say about the subject. Why wax philosophical when the story is so simple and beautiful? I'm just going to share one of my favorite songs. period- not just Christmas songs, but songs in general. Listen, ponder in your heart, and be blessed.

5 Minute Friday: Tired

2011-12-02T09:54:00.004-05:00

It is Friday. So here I am to give you five minutes of writing without worrying about making it perfect! Join in on the fun over at The Gypsy Mama to find out what this is really all about.

TOPIC: Tired

GO!

This last year has worn hard on the body and even harder on the soul.

It wasn't until yesterday that I remembered where we were a year ago. We were sitting in our little Liberian dwelling about to eat dinner, rice and beans I'm certain. The reports had been coming all day that there was unrest with our neighbors to the east. One year later, 3,000 + Ivorians dead, 100,000 + displaced and a former president on trial for war crimes we look back and shake our heads weary. We stepped out of our world and into another world altogether. Nothing about it was expected and predictable- this year has sent our heads spinning. Refugees on our doorstep, the unexpectedness of it all wringing us dry to the bone physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Then a baby growing unexpected, but much wanted and loved. Somehow, growing amidst the stress of a crisis. We wing our way back home. Find a new job, a new house, a new church and wait for this little one's arrival. The newness of it all wearing our edges thin. We are tired and my heart wells, and wails because I just want to stop this ride and get off some times. I just want to rewind back a few months. I want it all to slow down, but I fear at times that if it does that it will fall too hard on this heart of mine. The fierce speed of life has wearied me.

I'm tired and so I find solace in this season. This season that brings a mother to mind who must have been 100 times more tired than myself-riding a donkey with bulging belly. Her own head swirling and whirling from a God sized dream in her womb and a refugee crisis of her own. What joy and wonder God can bring to our tired. I'm searching desperate just to find a speck of that- a light, His light in my dark and tired soul.

STOP!

Weariness, Wackiness and Wonder (8 months pregnant)

2011-11-30T09:01:00.006-05:00

Here I am 8 months pregnant and learning to go easy on myself.

My blog hasn't been as hopping recently because I just don't have the energy. My wonderful husband so gently reminds me that I am, after all, 8 months pregnant. Somehow this always comes as a surprise to me. A hundred years of birth doulaing doesn't prepare you for the weariness, wackiness, and wonder of carrying a living being beneath your own heart.

I'm making lists by the dozens just to keep up with my spinning mind.

What to bring to the birth center, last minute Christmas decorations, Christmas gift lists, grocery lists, a list for my mother-in-law when she comes to offer much needed help after baby girl arrives, cleaning lists, a list of things needed to finish up the nursery...

It all can be a bit overwhelming for a first time mama- ok, lets be serious any mama.

What advice would you give for a mama in her 8th month? What do you wish you would have taken the time to do with those last few weeks before baby?

Leave some love in the comments- I'm really needing it today.

The Hard Grace (I sang for you today)

2011-11-28T06:00:00.000-05:00

I sang for you today. I sang thanks because I know right now you're living the hard grace. You're living the days that makes the voice go silent and the heart go numb. I sang grace for you today because I know that at some point you'll do the same for me. At some point I will need this covering of love to buoy me towards hope.

I sang big notes of thanks.
I sang grand crescendos of gratitude.
I sang the high notes of a life lived under this weight of grace.

You know how heavy this grace can be. Sometimes life can fall hard with all its brokenness and frailness. You're living it right now. I understand, at least in part, that sometimes the words don't make it past your lips and the thanks in your heart is often no more than a mere speck. I've been there.

Amidst my ever growing list of grace I mark down your name. I write it in less than elegant cursive. I write deep thanks for the hard grace you're facing. I scribble words of grace onto blank pages and wait for the rest of the grace story to be written both in joy and in brokenness.

It is all grace.

#2089 -#2090
friends who face the hard grace with a deep well of grace (and the blessing of watching God show off big!), the opportunity to give thanks amidst the brokenness and frailness of life

Grace is the Real Fairy Tale

2011-11-22T06:00:00.002-05:00

They've moved with us four times in six years. They've found a home tucked under the bed each place we've lived. They bided their time high in a closet at my in-laws while we made our journey to Liberia. I could count on one hand the number of times they've been lifted from the box they came in.

I stumble upon them in one of these third trimester fits of nesting. Rummaging through the closet- a true fit of thrift store purging taking over- I find them. I slip the top off of the shoebox and the rhinestones catch my eye. Memories of a late October day fill my heart and mind full. I lift them from the box and it isn't the pristine white of shoes that I see. No, it is the dirt and grime that covers the heel and toes of these more-expensive-than-most-of-my-shoes-combined shoes.

I can't help, but think, isn't this the real story of marriage?

We enter into this covenant- pure image of Bride and Christ. We've got the dress and the shoes- flawless. We make promises to each other and this God who made us for one another. We revel in love.

Then our humanity gets in the way and reality sets in.

It is our flesh to fight. Our marriage to protect from the dirt and grime of the world. Inevitably the dirt and grime finds its way in. It dirties up the edges and makes us have to work to maintain love to hand out grace when there is hurt. We walk through the muck and mire together and by grace come out on the other side, together.

Cinderella gets plucked from the ashes. Snow White avoids a poison apple and lives her Happily Ever After. Belle loves a beast and finds a prince.

The basis for all good fairy tales is grace.

We're living one big fairy tale.

I gaze at these shoes and somehow they are more beautiful than ever. I squeeze my swollen, pregnant feet into them and feel like Cinderella all over again. Cinderella with dirty slippers and six years of a life lived with her Prince Charming- an imperfect, grace filled fairy tale.

My New Normal

2011-11-21T06:00:00.001-05:00

November hangs heavy in the sky. The once autumn sun slatting through red shaded leaves has given way to gray hanging heavy over bare branches. The only way you end up with bare branches is to have had a tree full of beauty- and so the cycle continues. The same is with this walk of grace. In abundance or in lack there is reason for thanks. There is always a reason to turn palm upwards and give back to the Giver of all good gifts.

I've counted grace for well over a year. These gifts have never once run out. It makes this time of Thanksgiving feel like life's normal. I don't have to slow the mind and heart. I don't have to pause because the cadence of my heart is already beating in time to this gratitude for grace. That is the work of thanks in my heart- anxiety turned upside down, fear turned inside out. This counting of grace is my new normal.

I don't want to ever go back.

#2068-#2087

the steadfastness of God, tearful prayers, naps with the cat, trusting that it will all get done, another week to serve in word and deed, ginger ale, flu shots, gray days, the holidays at home, old copies of a Christmas Carol, the Word spoken, the Word sung, the Word alive in our hearts, cheese and pasta, handsome husband, God- greater and far richer a gift than anything He could give us, chamomile, a "kind of" clean house, the struggle to quiet my heart

5 Minute Friday: Grow

2011-11-18T06:00:00.001-05:00

On Fridays I link up with the Gypsy Mama for a little exercise in being imperfect. We write and we don't worry if it is right!

Topic: Grow

GO!

"Is that all they grow?" I can here the echoed and repeated question in my ears. Yes, rice, potato greens and not much else. "Well, can't they grow anything else?" Yes, but they don't. The work is too much- the bugs just too much under this African sun and canopy of wet heat.

They grow other things- things that we've forgotten how to grow in America.

They grow families big and they stick close to one another. They grow friendships and loyalty that few of us know. They grow laughter deep down in their bellies that overflows in a melody that can only be described as Liberian in tone. They taught me how to grow and heal old wounds. They're healing wounds of their own- growing new skin around their war-wounded souls.

STOP!

If She Can Say It, I Can Live It

2011-11-17T06:00:00.001-05:00

A post from the archives (a little secret: this friend is due with her baby around the same time I am! We are both so blessed!). It is memories like this that make my heart ache for Liberia. Re-posting as we pray for peace in the wake of the recent election.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rush around like a mad woman. We live on African time,but my internal clock is set to the Western world and it’s hard to leave it behind. A million requests and questions a day put my stress level on overload once and awhile. As I rush around frantic and frenzied a sister speaks the simple words of truth in my ear.

“You are so blessed” she says, but it isn’t just anyone saying these words. A life of loss, single motherhood and surviving a civil war has marked her days yet she whispers life into my stress. In her heavy Liberian English I hear again, “You are so blessed”. I breathe, the shoulders slouch, the heart beats normally again because if she can say it then surely I can live it.

I once heard someone say there are no African atheists. On a continent that has known suffering in almost every corner one doesn’t have to wonder if God exists because the answer to the ontological question exists here everyday. If we exist then He must. No questioning, no doubting, no wondering if this is all an accident because staying alive here only happens on purpose, only happens if someone greater is calling the shots.

You’re only left with the option to count the grace in each day.

Your baby lived through malaria.

You had enough to eat last month.

You survived that last pregnancy

The rice harvest is going to carry you through this year.

There is till peace in this land.

Getting to Like You...

2011-11-16T06:00:00.005-05:00

I've deemed November "Getting to Know You Month"- I am using the Pleated Poppy's What I Wore Wednesday link up as a way to show you a bit of my personality. I hope it shines through!

Here is my What I Wore!

shirt (H&M), cargo pants (pregnancy brain prevents me from remembering), wire earrings (these are my everyday earrings that are super comfortable- picked them up on a trip to Alaska), tree of life necklace (handmade by me- I bought the pendant at the now closed Irish store that used to be in downtown Asheville, NC)

3/4 length shirt (Motherhood), maxi dress (Old Navy- bequeathed to me by my sister in-law), earrings (handmade wood carved from the leprosy/TB rehab facility in Ganta, Liberia West Africa),hair doodad (H&M)

shirt/dress (thrifted), tank (H&M), jacket (given by a friend, but came from H&M), necklaces (handmade in Liberia), jeans (Motherhood), shoes (some store in France), baby bump (Kyle and Jessica Hoover)

sweater (thrifted), brown tank (Old Navy),maternity jeans (thrifted), beaded necklace (handmade by my friend Rebekah)

Also, a little Top 10 about me!

Top 10 Favorite Books (not ranked in order)

1. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery(and all the other books in the series)
2. One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp (I bought this for my kindle when it came out. We were living in Liberia at the time and I may have read it 3 times back to back...)
3. Rich Mullins: Arrow Pointing Towards Heaven by James Bryan Smith (a great biography of a fellow journeyer)
4. Tramp for the Lord by Corrie Ten Boom (I also love The Hiding Place- she is one of my personal heroes)
5. The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis
6. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
7. Motherless Daughters: The Legacy of Loss by Hope Edelman (a book that opened my eyes to how my mother's death truly affected me)
8. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver (I'm a big fan of her writing in general)
9. The Feminist Mistake by Mary Kassian (the book that inspired me to go back to college- kind of a big deal)
10.Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by C.S. Lewis (I know this is a tough read for most folks, but I think it is such a truly beautiful book)

Top 10 Things that make my heart happy (in no particular order- except for #1)

1. my hard working, sweet, amazing, handsome husband
2. hot drinks
3. good conversation with good friends
4. the outdoors (be it backpacking, boating, or hiking- I am a big fan)
5. Muppets (yes, I just said Muppets unashamedly)
6. fall colors
7. cardigan sweaters
8. road trips
9. music (good songwriting really)
10. thrift stores

Top 10 things that have changed my life and made me who I am (again, in no particular order)

1. the grace of God poured on every inch of my life!
2. the death of my parents
3. my choice of colleges (the 1st time around)
4. getting married to my amazing husband
5. volunteering at a crisis pregnancy center
6. becoming friends with older women (so many that have invested in me and unknowingly equipped me to be a Godly woman, wife and mama)
7. working in ministry and understanding true community in Christ
8. living in Liberia
9. becoming a mama (this will be forever a work in progress)
10. working with teenage girls (so many of them have become friends and true blessings in my life)

Top 10 favorite things to do

1. cook
2. craft
3. write
4. take hot showers (after our time in Liberia this has never been so true!)
5. make "to do" lists (yes, I know this is weird)
6. love people well (even if that means loving imperfectly)
7. stretch a dollar (love a good thrift store!)
8. DIY projects
9. curl up with the husband (or if he is unavailable a good book will do though never so well as him)
10.travel (beach, mountains, east coast/west coast, international- anywhere!)

I hope you've enjoyed my Top 10s. I could go on and on, but I'll save your eyes that work. Now it's your turn! If you feel so inclined leave your Top 10 from any one of these categories in the comments!

Did you miss my other "Getting To Know You Posts"? No worries, check them out
Getting to Know You...
Getting to Know All About You...

The Way to See Grace

2011-11-14T06:00:00.004-05:00

The way to see grace is with eyes searching for hope.

Even if those eyes are filled with tears.

I fight back the lump in the throat. The way 7 1/2 months of change can pile up in the soul can overwhelm at times. I keep moving forward. Keep planning and looking forward- always forward with only a glance behind. When it all seems like too much that is when the face burns hot and the tears well big. I give in. The dam breaks and out flows all the ugly and the hurt and the struggle that has been this readjustment.

Even in tears there is grace.

My mascara runs and my chest aches, but it is here in this place that I see that every minute of this journey has been full to the brim with grace. Somehow we've made it over three continents and home to have this baby girl. My health has not faltered and this movement that feels more and more like a real baby, my baby, is a constant in my everyday. Sometimes it takes the tears falling for us to see clearly the deep well of grace that is saturating our lives. I know He stores up these tears- these whispered, lisped out cries that it is all too much.

Because this grace, this more than we deserve, really is all too much.

We are given so much more than we deserve. We are given uncountable reasons to count grace.

Through the tears, through the joy, through each day that is reason enough to give thanks- I count.

Each week I take a little time to share the grace that I find in everyday life. Join this journey and share a bit of grace too.

#2053-#2067

mercy, mercy,mercy, a tender an HOLY God, morning light through slatted blinds, 40 mothers gathered for a shower of prayers and love, Koreans who pilgrim to Black Mountain, our weird connections, friends we just feel so blessed to have, home improvement stores, homemade laundry soap, glitter, husbands who work tirelessly, a day of rest, Christmas music, library finds, this Jesus story we all are a part of

Links to Life: Holiday Gift Giving Guide (Section 2)

2011-11-12T06:00:00.000-05:00

This week we celebrate global handmade products (and some coffee thrown in there for a boost of caffeine!)! What does that mean? The gifts in the guide today all come from organizations who are helping local artisans across the globe get their products to market. The internet has made this a real possibility and now you can own beautiful, unique items from just about anywhere in the world!

Ten Thousand Villages- A store with a mission! Ten Thousand Villages works in developing countries to import products that are beautiful and functional all at a fair wage to crafts people. Volunteers staff Ten Thousand Villages stores so that even more of the profit goes back to the crafters. Visit them online or look for a store in your area

Amani Ya Juu- Meaning “higher peace” in Swahili, Amani works to create quality handmade products and build peace between women that is reflective of the peace that we are given through relationship with God. Amani is committed to free trade, fair wages and the production of quality products! Read this post to find out the full story about Amani finally coming full circle back to Liberia! Amani is an organization working with women from Rwanda, Burundi, Congo, Uganda, Sudan, Kenya, Ethiopia, Somalia and now in Liberia!

Imani- Part of a larger global faith based project. Imani is a Uganda-based micro-enterprise organization that focuses on bringing spiritual health and healing to Ugandan women. Imani’s products are stunning! Click on over for a special code for the month of May for a special Mother’s Day discount!

Napada Handicrafts- A ministry of the Mission to the World Thailand and New City Fellowship Church, a growing congregation in a Bangkok neighborhood. Beautiful handmade batiks are used to make crafts, bags and beautiful stationary all the while providing an income for women in the slums of Bangkok and sharing the hope and truth of the Gospel.

Just Love Coffee- Coffee and adoption, does it get any better? Just Love Coffee supports work on behalf of orphans in Ethiopia and bonus they do it all through the sales of their delicious coffees. Just love Coffee is also a fundraising resource for missionaries, youth groups, adoptive parents! Double Bonus! Why buy coffee at the grocery store when you can buy it from Just Love Coffee and support orphans and adoptive families? I can vouch for their coffee- it is good stuff!

Putumayo Music- (For the music lover on your list!) Lookin’ for a little something different for the ol’ iPod? Putumayo music puts world music right in your hands. Who wouldn’t want their kids singing and dancing along to some Latin Soul music instead of Katie Perry?

5 Minute Friday: Unexpected

2011-11-11T06:00:00.000-05:00

I absolutely love this link-up with Lisa-Jo. It is about expression. It is about imperfection. It is about letting your writer's heart shine through. All that only for 5 minutes of your time...Why don't you give it a try?

Topic: Unexpected

GO!

I'd felt the waves of nausea for days. Certain things were late and had threatened not to come at all. The husband's eyes smiled knowingly. He was willing to admit what I only dared to guess was going on. A week went by and the nausea turned to disillusionment with all things food. My biological clock which has rarely missed a second since I was thirteen seeming to have lost all bearings.

Finally one day the husband hops on the back of a motor bike to make the ten minute journey to the local pharmacy. The pharmacist smiles knowingly and slips him the test over the counter. Two tests for less than a dollar. I love West African prices.

We huddle ourselves in the office bathroom and squint over the lines becoming clearer and clearer. You are our unexpected joy. The joy that God made from us in the midst of stress and refugees and our utter incapability to fix anything in this broken world. No, that is God's job and He does it right well.

You are our Liberian baby- the one we grew on three different continents. Unexpected, but oh, so welcome to this world, our world.

STOP!

Martha Stewart Lies

2011-11-10T05:00:00.000-05:00

Come here sister. I’ve got a secret to tell you.

Lean in close- it’s kind of a big one.

We’ve been lied too.

Its ok. It was a shock to my system too.

You see Martha Stewart Living arrives in my mailbox each month (thanks to my father-in-law’s precipitous amount of hotel points that he uses to buy us all magazine subscriptions) and I pour through the pages because well…it is just so darn pretty. However, I’ve come to see that it is within the pages of this benign little magazine that one of the world’s most treacherous lies has been woven.

Sister, can you hear it?

Do you hear it when you wash dishes and little ones pull at your legs? Do you hear it when you drop the remote and bend down subsequently catching a glimpse of hip hopping little dust bunnies under the couch? Do you sense the tension it creates when your budget just won’t afford you new holiday decorations? Do you hear the lie when guests are coming to your house and all you have are your every day dishes and a made-from-a-box dessert to offer?

You’re hearing voices, but don’t worry I hear them too.

They tell me that what I have isn’t enough. They whisper venom packed with the idea that who God has made me to be just doesn’t cut it in this appearance obsessed world. They leave me feeling inferior and just a tad embarrassed about what I do have.

You see what Martha Stewart has never said in any of her shows, books, magazines, etc…is that you can make this life full of woman-made “good things” and still forget to make a life.

You can still forget to love those around you. You can get absolutely lost in making everything perfect and forget that those around you don’t need perfect, they just need you. She lies and makes us believe that we’ve got to go out and get the “good things” in life for ourselves. I won’t blame Ms. Stewart entirely.

Because isn’t this the oldest trick in the book?

The one used by that old serpent in the Garden (the one that Martha’s finest home couldn’t hold a candle too)? Wasn’t this the trick used against the first woman?

He lied. Eve believed. She heard the whisper. God is withholding something from you. You better go out and get it for yourself. Rather than just being and knowing that everything she had been given was more than enough she chose to trust the serpent’s lies. We’ve been trusting those lies ever since.

Sister, lets stop believing the lie together. I don’t mean that our homes don’t matter or that we have to stop pinning like made women our DIY hopes and dreams. I just mean lets acknowledge the lie, bend the knee in repentance, and live in light of the hope that the “good things” in this life aren’t things at all.

Lets wrap our homes in faith, hope and love. Lets invite guests over and make that made-from-a-box dessert without shame. Lets clothe our homes in the finest we can afford (thrift store here I come!) and clothe the rest in grace and peace.

Getting to Know All About You...

2011-11-09T06:00:00.001-05:00

I'm linking up again this week with The Pleated Poppy for What I Wore Wednesday!

Here is what I wore...All outfits were stretched over the belly to protect the innocent. No babies in utero were harmed in the making of
these outfits...

Sweater (wish I could remember), dress (thrifted), leggings (Motherhood), shoes (some store in France)

I didn't have a pic. of what I wore to my shower on Saturday. This shot with a friend and her precious new little one is the closest that I have! Top (some store in France), black skirt (Target), scarf (thrift store find)

Sweater (Motherhood), top (thrifted), jeans (Motherhood)

Top (thrifted), headband (thrifted and made from a t-shirt), leggings (Motherhood)

The other purpose of this post is to let you get to know me a little better. I wrote a post a while back- an imaginary jaunt into what it would be like to meet some of you in real life. I thought I'd re-post it here because well...it just feels right. ENJOY!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you met me the first thing you’d notice is how far down you have to crane your neck to look me in the eyes. I’m short- like real short…like you just have to comment on how short I am kind of short. I’d then probably say something sarcastic to you in a effort to show you that your comment wasn’t original- simultaneously proving that I’m not terribly original in my own right.

But then I hope we’d move past that to the real stuff…

ya know the real me, the real you…

…and you would soon realize that I don’t have time for small talk. I can’t abide it. I think few that have walked roads similar to my own can. Either I’m all in or I’m all out. And with every person I meet from the get go I try to be all in.

I don’t have time for small talk, but I love stories.

So I’d share with you my own.

(at this point I’d warn you to hold on to your mug of deliciousness. I’m pretty sure that it goes without saying that we’d be sipping on coffee/tea/whatever ya fancy)

I lost both my parents by the time I was 12. To which you’d inevitably stumble over your words and to which I would softly say- It’s ok, God knew what He was doing. I‘d say this because God’s grace has covered, healed and captured my heart. I'd try to put into words how I know- not just mentally ascent to- the fact that:

“All things work together for good for those who love God…”

I’d share with you about my struggle with the monster that is anxiety. The way it presses hard in the throat and pounds even harder in the chest at times, but how gratitude is changing all of that…I’d tell you about my family past and present- my dad- the measuring stick for all the men in my life, my mom who taught me to pray and see the need around me, the imperfect Grandparents that didn’t think twice about raising their granddaughter, the aunt who treated me like her own, the most amazing husband that married me with all my loss and need for healing, the family I’ve gained because of my marriage, my brother, his wife and kids who light up my heart and who God has used in such beautiful ways to restore and make me whole again. I’d pack the corners of this story thick with detail.

And just about the point you think that you can’t take it any more- listening to this girl that just talks and talks and talks…I’d tell you some outrageous story about the family and friends that have made my life so colorful. We’d laugh long and hard. Laughter that will scrunch our faces and leave us with laugh lines deep cut when we are 75.

We’d laugh in the midst of all my furrowed brow seriousness because I would tell you that my mom ate fat free cookies by the dozen- because they were fat free of course- and wore electric blue spandex pants that she worked out in to Richard Simmon’s “Sweating to the Oldies” which is subsequently burned in my mind (no 27 year old should know what “the Pony” is) along with my dad’s “I’m makin’ fun of your dumb workout video” dance that went along with her video and blue spandex. I’d tell you how the biggest thing that my mom has missed out on has been the arrival of the internet and the opportunity to forward chain emails with glittery, fluttering butterfly graphics. We’d rub laughter tired cheeks, sip our now almost cold coffee/tea/whatever ya fancy and we’d sit back in our chairs.

I’d finally close my yapper and open my ears. My eager eyes would communicate the hope that my openness would be reciprocated. That somehow amidst all my yammering you’d feel your shoulders loosen and your heart open to me. I hope you’d lean forward, hands cupped around your mug, and say,

“Let me tell you a story…”

What would a coffee/tea/whatever ya fancy date be like with you? Leave your answers in the comments!

Want to get to know me a little more but missed last weeks post? No worries!
Getting to Know You...(a What I Wore Wednesday Post)

Exhausted by Grace

2011-11-07T06:00:00.000-05:00

Sometimes exhaustion sets in because the blessings have heaped so big. After a weekend so full I feel like I am digging out from underneath grace after grace. Pictures are worth a thousand words and I am so behind on posting these pictures of grace. I promise that there will be more in the coming weeks. More pictures that paint vividly the love of God showered on my life and shining into all the dark places.

I never miss a chance to have my picture taken with Grace in real life. This lady is the embodiment of grace and her name is so fitting.

I've kept the muffin pan busy these past few weeks as we settle in for the colder months ahead. What grace is found in warmth and candlelight.

A desk full of beauty- making all this typing and writing and throwing caution to the wind to share my heart just a bit more beautiful.

This practice of counting grace has blessed me in innumerable ways. Join this journey of grace, won't you?

#2011-#2052
the scenic route, having to bundle up, a night in, early morning tests, girl joy (dancing in the morning), riding familiar roads, being "showered" with love,sanctification (seeing that this journey to be made in the image of Christ doesn't end just because we turn 80), hugs, hugs, hugs, cake, test OVER!, zombie husband (an 8hr. test takes its toll, but it is done!), mall food courts, deep sleep, afro wigs, family that cares enough to plan a shower for me and this little one, the ride home (exhausted and relieved), clear drains, our bed, an anniversary (6 of them passed, WOAH!), no studying!, an evening together at last!, flowers on my desk, dreaming about her little face, trusting that God will give us community, holiday plans (and the grace to go easy on ourselves, tiny pumpkins, colder temperatures, just enough, gift cards, exchanges, tall glasses of clean water, the deafening sound of a sander, husbands who endure (stomach empty and body weary), Your presence- weaving itself in the every day, The Mighty Fortress that is our GOD, mother's dreams, these still days, a doula, the grace to question our path , the hope that Your hand is gracious

Links to Life: Holiday Gift Giving Guide (Section 1)

2011-11-06T06:00:00.006-05:00

This is gonna be fun! From goats to handmade goodness these links are meant to give you a chance to put your money where your heart is and buy some gifts that matter! This week I'm offering a listing of organizations that have holiday gift giving catalogs. Would you like to give a goat to a family in the Congo? Would you like to provide food for a baby in Sri Lanka? Below are a list of some organizations that through your donations will provide goats, chickens, rabbits, cows, bees, food, evangelistic and discipleship materials, pastoral training, etc...really, whateva ya fancy to families in the developing world!

Samaritan's Purse- An easily accessible gift giving guide for the holidays. My husband and I have worked with SP a couple of times and we know that they are definitely doing what they say they are.

Heifer International- A gift to suit anyone's budget- Buy a goat or heck by the whole farm for a family in need.

World Vision- Search through all the categories on the left side of the screen for all the ways that you can give and be involved this holiday season.

Compassion International- Give the gift of dental care (as well as many other gifts!) to a child in need. This is such a desperate need in many developing countries. We saw this first hand with our friend Poppi (an older man) in Liberia. His teeth were in terrible shape and he had no money and unfortunately no dentist to fix them. Give the gift of a smile through Compassion!

Do you know of any other trustworthy organizations that have amazing gift guides for this holiday seasson? Leave a link in the comments!

5 Minute Friday: Remember

2011-11-04T06:00:00.000-04:00

Thanks Lisa-Jo for another chance to let our hair down and write! I'm not exactly a perfectionist...but when it comes to writing it is good to get a chance to share writing that isn't my version of perfect.

Topic: Remember

GO!
Some times I hear my own voice and I think it is yours'. I laugh and I note that there is a ring to it that inexplicably belongs to you.

These days I lay in bed long and wonder what this girl growing beneath my heart will look like, sound like, smell like. I prayed long and hard the other night that her heart would be like yours' in part. A heart that opens itself to the hurts of others and by default opens the doors of her home to the lives of others.

I wonder if she'll have a glimpse of you tucked in her smile or just up around the eyes. I wonder if she'll pull the sound of you out of my laughter and make it her own. I hope so, because lately it has been so hard to remember those tangible things about you. I catch myself daydreaming and trying to capture a snapshot of you that touches all five of my senses. Photos can only give us so much. Photos can only take us so close to our memories. To be human is to experience life with all five senses.

My twelve year old heart had all of you, but my twenty-seven year old heart only has memories. That is why each time she moves and keeps me wide-eyed in the wee smalls I revel that she is part of you. I rejoice that I get just a little bit of you back in her. What grace. I want to breathe deep and experience each moment with her fully- to remember you through her with all five of my senses.

STOP!

Planting Fresh Roots

2011-11-03T06:00:00.000-04:00

This is another post from the archives.

I wrote this shortly after returning home from Liberia. My husband was still in Africa and I was reeling from everything that had happened in the past year. Sitting here only a few months later I still feel the same ache. The husband has been home for a few months now. My pregnant belly is well beyond bulging and in full bloom. We've somewhat settled into life here, but that ache is still fresh. Liberia did something to us. Something that doesn't fade with time. Something that keeps the heart longing long after the bags are unpacked and a comfortable life is made. I've found that the only thing worth planting roots in is grace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even after I've unpacked all the bags and washed all the clothes in a real washer and dryer I find that Liberia is still hanging on to me. I slip my old brown, cotton skirt out of the drawer. The one with the bleach stains and the stretched waist from wearing it too many days in a row in the hot African sun. I slip it on over my only slightly bulging pregnant belly and though its been washed it still snags. One rogue grass seed has hung on across 3,000 miles and 3 weeks and made me a liar to U.S. customs. Sorry America it appears I've brought a real piece of Liberia back with me.

It pricks my leg and I search the seam to find the culprit and pull it out. Seed cupped in my hand. I know that much more than a single seed has traveled with me from Liberia. I'm sitting in the land of the pine and trying to process my time in the land of the palm and my head spins and my heart aches. 3,000 miles away my husband still wakes to the rhythm of Liberian life. He'll be winging his way home in a month, but for now we live an ocean apart. The rhythm of my life off-beat, stilted. My equilibrium off kilter and stuck somewhere between West Africa and the East coast of the United States. I'm dizzied by these changes.

I roll the grass seed between my fingers. I open the back door and feel the heat of a North Carolina summer.

I let the seed go.
Let it fly and fall to the ground.
I let it go.

Me, the rootless one, with heart heavy and hope high looking to plant fresh roots in the grace of everyday life.

Getting to Know You...(a "What I Wore Wednesday" Post)

2011-11-02T06:00:00.007-04:00

I know I've been blogging for a while, but I have a lot of new readers and I'm eager to get to know you and vice versa. I thought that for each Wednesday in November I would do a little getting to know you...this goes both ways! I want to get to know you and I want you to get to know a little bit about me; my heart, my failures, my fashion, my quirky sense of humor (if there is a Muppet in it I will think it is funny), my writing...me!

Part of this little exercise is going to be linking up with The Pleated Poppy for her What I Wore Wednesday link up. Clothes don't make the woman, but I do think they can tell a lot about her. I'm no fashionista (as you will soon see), but I do love a cute skirt with leggings and some handmade earrings.

Here is (for a couple days at least) my what I wore...

(32 weeks pregnant) Black dress (Target), leggings (Motherhood), Sweater (Thrift store find), Shoes (some store in France!)

(still 32 weeks) Sweater (Target), Mustard v-neck (Target), Jeans (Motherhood), Necklace (wish I could remember!)

Sweater (Old Navy Outlet), shirt (Target), corduroy skirt (Motherhood), tights (some place that sells tights), shoes (Land's End), necklace (can you see it at all in this pic?- anyways it is from DaySpring)

Here is a little bit about me...

I thought I'd start out with a little surface level stuff- we're building a relationship right? Like I said, I really love what clothes can say about you. I've got an artist's heart so I love to let my clothes express a little bit about me. I like comfort- high heels have their place, but not in my every day (give me cute flats any day!). A thrifty find makes my heart super happy! I like cute accessories. I love color! Currently (as you can see) I am having a bit of a love affair with mustard. Its just such a warm color! You'll rarely find me not wearing a cardigan sweater in the fall and winter. A fact that earns me a lot of grief from the husband. He has a strong belief that I have a cardigan in every color of the rainbow. Not true- but a girl can dream, right?! I am a thrift store addict. I'd guess that half of my clothes have come from thrift stores. We're on a tight budget so I'm all about finding gently used (sometimes not used at all) beautiful clothes- you don't have to break the bank to find your perfect style.

Here is what I want to know about you...

What do your clothes say about you? Do you have any secrets to getting dressed everyday and expressing your personal style even on a budget? What is your favorite color for this fall?

Grace Flows When I Slow

2011-10-31T06:00:00.000-04:00

l roll out of bed, quite literally these days, and plant my feet on the floor firmly. My center of gravity is not where it once was and neither are my abdominal muscles. I’m an efficient person. Always with a plan. Always with a “to do” list a mile long. These past weeks I find myself slowing without choice and giving in to the temptation to sleep a bit longer and take things all a bit slower. There is no time like the present and in a few weeks I will be on a “sleep while you can” kind of schedule.

This little one isn’t even here yet and I can already feel the days and months and years slipping away. When she rolls around nestled within these days I have to force myself not to let my mind wander to school buses and prom dresses and a childhood flying by far too fast. Maybe it is my own “grew up to fast” childhood that sends me desperately clawing to hold onto hers’ before she is even here. I wonder if my own mother felt these growing pains. I wonder if she watched me on my first birthday and thought that time was flying by too fast. I wonder did she use her camera, the old Canon that has been passed back and forth between my brother and I, to capture those moments because she knew they were all to fleeting.

She really had no idea how fleeting.

Like her, I’m compelled to capture each moment.

The rhythm of my everyday is this heartbeat below mine. I beat mine slower, she beats her child-heart fast and somehow we meet in the middle. I slow so that I can feel each kick- even the ones that find me wide-eyed at 3:00 am. I slow time. Time gives me a gift each moment. God gives me a gift eternal in His immeasurably rich grace. I only experience it when I slow the hands, quiet the mind, calm the questioning heart.

It is there that I find reason for thanks. 2,000 reasons to be exact to pile up grace and thanks and share it for this bankrupt of joy world to see.

#1988-#2010

talking with the Father (and oh, the blessing when He speaks back!), problem solving (and the long phone calls that it some times takes), seeing the enemies attacks for what they are, a trip out for ice cream, a night in together, smiles in the first few minutes of light, kiss on the way out the door (can’t you stay just a minute more?), scent of after shave lingering, other writers who inspire just by sharing, watching my own writing improve, sunshine and errands ahead!, sweets from my sweet, pay day, brilliant fall beauty, another visit (and much needed help) from cousin Paige, lunch with the parents, kitty cat at home, too crowded bed, the word preached and our hearts stirred, pumpkin bread, jelly failures, beginning to feel like a true writer at heart, Sunday hike, singing loud, is wondering how it will all get done, two midwives!, baby girl strong and in a good position, pictures by a creek, breezes in the sunroom, exhausted sleep, stiff hands, free books, husband home, a father to be joy and excitement (to think our heavenly Father rejoices over us exponentially, navigating the Queen city safely (a miracle if you ask me), the grace to rest

Links to Life

2011-10-29T06:00:00.000-04:00

I'm taking a break from Links to Life this week. Not because I'm tired of it, but because for the month of November I am putting together something really special; a Links to Life Holiday 2011 Gift Giving Guide!

Shopping + great organizations= A heck of a good time.

The whole month of November I am going to be posting links to organizations that either donate most or all of their proceeds to a worthy cause, support fair trade or offer you the opportunity to buy something for those in need- I mean who doesn't want to buy a goat for some kids in Africa? I've lived in Africa and nothing is cuter than a little boy and his goat.

Go ahead and start making out those Christmas lists and get ready for Links to Life 2011 Holiday Gift Giving Guide!

5 Minute Friday: Relevant

2011-10-28T06:00:00.000-04:00

Another week to join up for 5 minutes of writing with the Gypsy Mama. Take 5 minutes and write and don't worry about how right it is!

Topic: Relevant

GO!

We've settled in to our new home still feeling like we're searching for home. Liberia is 8,000 miles and an ocean away, but stories and inside jokes creep into our conversations. We're working on finding community here. Right.where.we.are. Right where God has so graciously placed our weary feet, but when our minds stumble back across the Atlantic and into mud houses and rural clinics we feel so out of place.

We feel about as relevant as petticoats and covered wagons.

Its a chore to be relevant when our life has been so irrelevant and foreign. It is a strange feeling when the foreign becomes the familiar. We make conversation with new acquaintances and inevitably have to launch into an explanation of where a year plus of our life has gone. How we came to this place and where we think it is leading. It all feels so irrelevant to most people's experience. They smile kind and I know they are trying to understand, trying to connect, but there is still distance.

I type this out.
I make my unique life, calling, every day craziness relevant to hearts with my words.

I endure the awkward conversations because I know in my heart of hearts that the weaving of a God story on an individual life is relevant to all of us grace lovers. Even when the people, places and things that float in my heart and memory seem so irrelevant.

STOP!

Held in the Palm of God

2011-10-27T06:00:00.000-04:00

Another post from the archives as I look back over this last year and all that God has stirred in my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His hands, numbed and broken by disease, reach deep into his backpack for something. He’s carved elephants out of iron wood and this world with it’s heavy iron of suffering has landed hard on this young man’s life. Leprosy, long ago eradicated from the developed the world, still isolates and steals the health of many here. From the deep recesses of his bag he pulls a hand whole and holding an etched face. He mumbles something about God’s palm and a passage from Isaiah.

Sometimes you have to lean in to hear the truth.

“Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hand.” Isaiah 49:15-16

A boy whose family has been ravaged by disease and who will, in this life, always bear the physical scars of a broken world carves out truth from wood and iron from my soul. The truth that God never forgets the least of these in this war-torn country and this sin-shredded world.

We are held tight by a God who etched our pain and hurt onto his own Son (Romans 8:32). Our hands are weak and broken, all of us with soul leprosy, but God’s hands are whole, strong, secure. Lessons learned from people whose bodies are more broken than many, but whose souls are more whole than most.

For more information on the craftsmen from the Leprosy/TB Rehabilitation Community in Ganta, Liberia please leave a message in the comments!

What Do You Do With It Once You've Caught It? (Part 6)

2011-10-26T06:00:00.000-04:00

I've loved sharing my heart about church these past 5 weeks. I hope you've been able to glean a few gems of truth from the series. Today I'm going to wrap things up with a bit of a challenge to us all.

"Be the change you want to see in the world." ~ Mahatma Gandhi

This is a pretty famous quote from one of the most well-known peace activists in history. I think that this quote could be re-written and applied to our churches, "Be the change you want to see in the Church." We examined some of the excuses that folks give for not being a part of a local body and we discussed some of the keys to finding a grace drenched, Gospel-centered church. All of this is meant to bring us to one place- the place of investing in the Gospel right.where.we.are. That means being a part of a local church. The next natural question is...now what?

Now what?
"Be the change you want to see in the Church"

I don't mean go into a new church with guns of change blazing. No church is perfect because there are no perfect people. Church is for sinners- remember? This process of sanctification that is being worked out in our lives is also being worked out in the life of the church. The New Testament has so much to offer us in terms of what a healthy (and unhealthy) church look like, but at the end of the day there is much left to interpretation. The one thing we can know for sure is that at the heart of any church should be the Gospel- spoken and lived. We aren't meant to be consumers of the church so when I say, "Be the change you want to see in the Church", I mean don't just take up space in a seat.

Get involved. Join a small group, invest in the children or youth in the congregation, seek out ways to love the body of Christ, take part in a ministry of mercy in your community, open yourselves to the people that you meet, be willing do "do" life together.

That was a huge part of who Christ was- someone who was willing to do life with others- be it fishermen or tax collector. If we glean from His example then we will see that church is about God and we glorify Him the most when we are worshiping Him together.

That sums it up...somewhat...

Go out and be a part of a church that is about God. Invest wholeheartedly, love dangerously, serve tirelessly and know that you might get hurt by the whole experience, but it is worth it. Worth it for the sake of the Gospel and God's great love- of this you can be certain.

I Dare to Ask For More

2011-10-24T06:00:00.001-04:00

It was about this time of year- bluest sky, leaves changing, wind whipping through my jacket. You shared your heart- one that had been wrestling with God for more than a few nights. I ran to my car and cried my way home. You rested well that night. I was in for a few sleepless, wrestling nights of my own.

Neither of us had wanted to get married, but God had something different in mind. He knew that to make us more like Him we needed each other. We needed the chiseling away that only living in lock step with another heart can bring to bare. Six years into this thing, a completed college education, one neurotic cat, love lived and made on both sides of the Atlantic and a baby girl growing strong all amount to two blessed lives and one blessed marriage.

We've continued to wrestle with God over callings and finances and all the stuff that is the nuts and bolts of living the Gospel right.where.we.are. We've wrestled with each other over the rough and ugly places in each others' hearts. Always calling one another to grace and repentance.

Could we ask for more?

When I came to terms with this high calling of marriage it was because I knew that God was calling me to trust Him in a deeper way. I knew that He was calling me to trust that He was at work in your life- that His Holy Spirit was alive and well in you. That first leap of trust has kept me leaping by your side for the past six years.

I will dare to ask for more.

More determination to love each other well.
More time to pour grace on each others' rough places.
More conviction that God has given us everything we need.
More grace to live each day for the sake of the Gospel and point each other homeward.
More hope to fill in the gaps in our abilities.
More love than we ever imagined to fill our home and this new little one's heart.
More faith that keeps us leaping when we can't see the bottom.

Yes, I dare to ask for more.

I'm inching my way ever closer to 2,000 gifts, but this week I pause and thank God for one single gift.

The precious and irreplaceable love of my husband- tender, strong, determined and full of faith.

Links to Life: Domestic Violence Awareness

2011-10-22T06:00:00.000-04:00

While the month of October is usually full of pink (for breast cancer awareness) somehow a bit of dark purple manages to edge its way in.

October is Domestic Violence Awareness month.

I wasn't really aware of how prevalent domestic violence is in our culture and across the globe until I worked as a crisis pregnancy counselor. One of the first things you are trained to identify is when a woman might be living in a situation that is mentally, verbally or physically abusive. It astounded me how many women I worked with that lived and functioned in toxic, dangerous relationships. These women were my neighbors and some of them could have easily been my friends. I want us all to pause long and consider if this might be going on in our neighborhoods, churches and families.

Here are a few resources that might be helpful to you or someone you know. Please pass them along and add more in the comments! But first...a video!

Stories of women who have faced domestic violence. These women don't look any different than the women in our churches, do they?

You- What do I mean "You"? I mean "You" because you are the first line of defense for friends and family that might be facing abuse. Victims need advocates. Be an advocate. Educate Yourself! Read this article from Kyria about one Christian woman's story of abuse- so eye opening! Open your house to a woman who is facing abuse. Report suspected abuse- you can do this anonymously! Identify your local domestic abuse crisis center and find out how you can be an advocate. Support your local women's shelter.

National Organization Against Domestic Violence- A national organization working with the federal government to develop policies that address all kinds of relational abuses of power in our society. A resource worth knowing about.

National Domestic Violence Hotline- A number to know and a site to be familiar with if you know someone or suspect someone is being abused.

Faith Trust Institute- A multi-faith/multi-cultural organization working to end violence and sexual abuse around the globe.

Have you been affected by domestic violence personally? Have you assisted someone who has been a survivor of domestic violence? What other resources are out there for victims and advocates?

5 Minute Friday: Beyond

2011-10-21T06:00:00.004-04:00

Linking up for another 5 minute Friday with the Gypsy Mama! We write and we don't worry if it is right. Hooray!

Topic: BEYOND

GO!

Sitting at my desk, autumn light seeping through the slats of blind, I catch her face over the top of my laptop. Wire rimmed glasses, bun of gray hair tucked tight, unmistakable joy radiating from her brown eyes.

She gives me reason to pause.
Reason to ponder.

In a world where I wake up to the radio informing me about Lindsay Lohan's latest shenanigans I find my heart beating empty for a hero. Someone who goes beyond the safety of this world to the true safety of living relentlessly for the Gospel.

I recall her story of forgiveness. A Nazi soldier stopped her after a speaking engagement and, eyes pleading, begged her forgiveness. She fought the flesh and opened the palm to grace. She went beyond what she felt capable of. Lying in a concentration camp with the words of her departed sister ringing in her ears about the depth and riches of Christ she chose to go beyond and love the women around her. Out of her own darkness she loved them towards the light of Christ. She loved them beyond her capability.

She knew something significant.
Something that reaches beyond this world and to the next
We can't ever go beyond God.

STOP!

Corrie Ten Boom is a great hero of mine. I keep her on my inspiration board for just that reason.

Crockpots, Thrift Stores and a Calling So Big

2011-10-20T06:00:00.002-04:00

An edit and repost from the archives as I look back over a year and a half long journey that has wrecked, healed and changed me from the inside out. I've got a new crockpot by the way- better than the old one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pad and pen packed away with the rest of life so I turn to technology to ease the heaviness that dwells within. Sometimes writing and the Holy Spirit's work within is the only remedy, tonight that is the case.

He said "maybe it's still too much" as he lays his weary head and eyes to rest.

I choke back indignation.
When will it be enough?
When our clothes are threadbare and our stomachs are empty?

Where in Acts does it say that the first Christ followers got rid of their crockpots? Nope, don't see it anywhere. Nevermind about that whole "sold all that they had" part, maybe just a misprint. Especially that "all" part.

He drifts away, but I remain awake. Desperate to purge one more thing from my grip to the Goodwill. It's late and my body longs for rest but my mind is whirling, questioning, arguing with itself. I question what Scripture says and what that means for me. I rationalize. I argue. I plead my case before an invisible jury knowing all the while that it is Father God that is both judge and jury. He issued the summons. I've answered the call. There is no turning back now.

The tears begin to roll.

I'm done with this calling.
I'm done packing everything up.
I'm done believing that You are who You say You are.
I'm done...

Because it's easier that way. It's easier to pontificate to others about the who's, how's and why's of the Christian life. It's much harder to come face to face with faith and keep walking forward. My mind starts to wander to stability. A house, a family, a kitchen, a familiar culture, stationary life, but when is life ever really stationary?

After a few moments faith rises to the top. I find the bin with the kitchen gadgets in it and quietly defend my hoarding of all things culinary. My argument is not convincing and the fella guarding the donation door tomorrow will be getting a workout.

We're not super spiritual for "selling it all". No, in fact this experience is showing me just how unwilling my heart is to see Christ and His call as "more than enough". As I whittle down the remainder of our belongings I recall Paul's discussion of this "momentary light affliction" that is not to be compared with the glory ahead. We hold on to so much junk and often toss aside jewels of the faith, namely Christ Jesus. Crucified, dead, buried, arisen and pleading for us at the Right hand of God. We toss aside His beckoning in to the wilderness because of the "things" that we think we need to go.

I am learning that what I saw as simplification is truly heart surgery. A removing of all the dark spots in my heart that drive my mouth to say "NO!" to all that God has for me and my family. If I choose to heed the calling it requires all of me. Every bit. Every "thing". So I am trying to dwell there. In that place where less is freedom and more of Christ is life.

The thing is that when you begin to do with less you find that He is infinitely more.

Read more about life along the road to Liberia at my other blog The Hoovers: Liberia Bound

Part 5: The Hunt is On

2011-10-19T06:00:00.000-04:00

With all this talk about how hard it can be to find a church I'm sure that everyone was expecting that our most recent incarnation of church hunting would be full of strange and strained experiences. Trust me, we did too. That makes this little report more than a surprise!

Here's the story thus far.

About a month ago we visited a church in a neighboring town. We knew the pastor and had more than a few connections to this church. We visited and although we already had a bit of a connection the style just wasn't for us. That's ok. We left that day not exactly discouraged, but definitely not encouraged in this journey. I think we both were afraid that this was the beginning of another long journey to find a church.

The next week we just happened to find a church that looked very promising in another nearby town. We decided that it was worth a try and we have to say that we're glad 3 weeks later that we made that initial visit. We're not ready to become members, but we definitely see potential.

Why was this second church so attractive to us?
What has brought us back?

Well, it has been everything that I've talked about in this series. The body was welcoming, it was clear that this church is a genuine community, the worship was Christ-centered, the sermon was Biblical and the Gospel was displayed. That is what has kept us coming back and I can't say that I'm disappointed that we haven't had to regroup with tears and gnashing of teeth and set out to find yet another potential church home.

That's the story thus far. I'll keep you updated as this journey continues!

What I Want for Her More Than Anything

2011-10-17T06:00:00.000-04:00

I ache from hip to hip and deep down in my heart. Your rhythmic hiccups keep me awake like the too-loud-ticking of the kitchen clock. I toss from side to side. Your daddy hangs on for dear life at the edge of the bed. My cocoon of pillows leaves him little room these days. It is in this stillness, this exhausting midnight dance that I find myself wrestling with God like Jacob through his own uncomfortable night of sleep.

I want so much for you.

Through the tossing and the turnings of sore hips and aching back it is the tossing and turning in my heart that keeps me awake the most. I want you to know faith, hope, love...I want it all packaged in the purest forms.I ache over bringing you into a sin drenched world- my protective instinct going into overdrive as a means of sheltering you from this world that batters and bruises those soft in heart. I want you to know how to unwrap the grace of every moment and maybe more than anything I want you to know joy. I long for you to be excited over silly things. I look forward to your ears hearing, your eyes seeing, your heart filling with awe and wonder for the first time.

I want you to know the joy of a heart contented in Christ.

Your mama has not always known this joy. Your mama often fails to live in the light of this joy. Your mama is far too quick to furrow her eyebrows and let the tears flow when joy should be the only thing flowing freely, abundantly. That is why I keep counting grace. It is not because I am intrinsically joyful or thankful- no, it is because my natural bent is toward worry and fret.

I have to practice joy.
You, my daughter, will have to practice joy.

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children (that is you my sweet daughter) are walking in the truth. 3 John 1:4

I have found that there is immense joy in the counting. I capture grace in a glass jar like late summer fireflies. The glow released is pure joy. I hope that I can teach you this practice. I hope that the joy of everyday of loving you and living life in front of you will splash onto your life and leave you captivated and breathless over the joy and grace of everyday.

Count joy with me (and so many others!)

#1942-#1986
help from family, growing pains and tears, gyros!, oreo "power bars", just enjoying each others' company, a God who provides, frustrated husband, Homecoming, soundtracks, friends in ministry, drawing talent (and how God can use it mightily), well drilling classes, responding to needs around the world (training and mobilizing!), fried chicken, a husband who stretches himself, the Thanksgiving chair, biscuits, a reason for thanks ever single moment, breathing deep, swollen fingers, 29 weeks, gifts of honey, my midwife's baby boy (full of smiles and giggles!), kisses so sweet, baby head down, kicks of life, yogurt,exhaustion, potential trips to Honduras, the gift of writing, the ability to start something new (even if there is huge potential for failure), shreds of wallpaper stuck to the floor (baby girl's room will be beautiful), ruined pants, failed stain removal, homemade applesauce, much needed rest, struggling financially, husband's determination to pass, combating lies with truth, God's voice speaking truth to my heart

Links to Life: Mentoring

2011-10-15T06:00:00.000-04:00

This weeks links are all connected to the central theme of mentoring. In our culture, where so many young boys and girls grow up without good, Godly role-models it is no wonder that many adult men and women struggle to live lives of Godliness and purpose. I know that I have benefitted tremendously from having older friends come alongside me and show me how to walk this journey. Ultimately I think this should be taking place within the “c”hurch (if you’ve following my Church Hunting in the 21st Century series then you get that reference). In the meantime, there are some great organizations (both faith-based and secular) out there that are trying to meet this need.

Here are just a few…

The Mentoring Project- This is a Portland, Oregon based mentoring initiative whose goal is to provide mentor for every fatherless boy in the Portland, Oregon area. However, the mission goes beyond this and can help provide the tools to faith communities around the country to start their own mentoring projects for fatherless boys.

Big Brothers Big Sisters- Most of us are familiar with this secular mentoring project, but don’t count it out. It is still a huge opportunity to get involved in your community.

MENTOR: National Mentoring Partnership- A great way to get plugged in right where you are. An organization that is seeking to match the more than 18 million children in need of mentors with adult mentors!

Do you have a story of a mentor in your life? Or have you made the steps to volunteer as a mentor to a young man or woman? Share your story in the comments!

5 Minute Friday: Catch

2011-10-14T06:00:00.000-04:00

I always look forward to Friday- for many reasons- but especially because as a writer I get to let my hair down (which it is most of the time), kick my feet up, and just write without wondering if it is just right! Thanks Lisa-Jo for always giving us the opportunity to shake off the shackles of perfect and write! Joining up again today for another 5 minute Friday!

Topic: Catch

GO!

I remember a night in Liberia when the surrounding community was burning a piece of land just behind our house. We drove to our house with rings of black smoke curling high into the sky and flames lapping at the edges of the nun's property. Kyle said not to worry, but I did.

Didn't they know this is dry season?
Didn't they think through how close they were burning to our house?

I spent the evening a bit on edge thinking the fickle West African wind might change and blow cinder, ash and flames toward us. If it did we would lose everything.

Here is the catch, the ultimate catch for all of us walking this journey of grace. When we take seriously our mandate to "take up that cross and follow Him" we don't get to choose how that looks. We will lose everything. Fire or no fire. When you lay down your own life, something I'm terrible at, and shoulder that splinter ridden piece of wood you will inevitably be bruised and you will undoubtedly face situations you never imagined.

But the catch doesn't stop there because God didn't just say take up that cross, shoulder this burden, walk this road straight...alone. No, He said he'd never leave us and no part of His Father's heart could ever forsake us. Fire or no fire. These splinters may stick thick in our shoulders from carrying this earthly load, but there is grace abundant and a Father who prepares a home and haven for eternity for those who dare to get caught.

STOP!

P.S. The fire never came close to our house in case you were wondering.

God of the Gaps

2011-10-13T06:00:00.000-04:00

Another post re-edited from the archives. As I dangle my toes into the shallow end of motherhood and prepare for the big dive I am grasping hard to remember these words.

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My God fills in the gaps...

There are days when I can literally feel my weaknesses dripping off of me. Yet I have come to see that these weaknesses don't amount to a hill of beans in God's eyes. Don't underestimate what God will call the ill-equipped to do. He’s never shirked away from using the weak and less than perfect in the past. My mind's eye sees Moses, bedraggled wilderness dweller, encountering a bush aflame with the Glory of the "I AM", head bent and eyes shaded from the intensity of the fire which is a holy God. Words stuttering up his throat and out his lips.

Not me. I'm not ready. I wwwwwwon't ever be rrrrrrready.

The flaming bush saw it differently. Across the distance Aaron comes walking. A glad heart to greet his brother an eloquent speaker by any standards. Aaron would be Moses’ mouthpiece. Moses would be God's tool to free His people. .God’s tool to set the course of redemptive history. When God calls you can't bow out.

It just doesn't work that way. He will capture your heart and attention one way or the other. God sees the gaps in our ability. Don’t be fooled into thinking that He doesn’t. His eyes are so much clearer than our own. His view so much vaster. His heart filled to overflowing with tenderness for our weaknesses.

He sees all the gaps in…

our ability to heal relationships with family members, our ability to raise the funds needed to spread the Gospel to the ends of the earth, our fears of being complete failures at this joy and journey of motherhood, our failures in our marriage, our scattered parenting methods, our disjointed, sometimes non-existent times in the Word, our ability to live lives of Godliness in this present world.

He will not call us to anything that he will not equip us for mind, body and spirit.

Not me. I'm not ready. I won't ever be ready.

God sees me. God sees you. He sees my weaknesses. He sees your weaknesses. He is filling in all our gaps moment by moment by moment…He fills these gaps with grace and mercy- miracle loads of the stuff to cover over all the cracks. A God who minds the gaps and fills them with His grace.

Part 4: Why Its Worth It

2011-10-12T06:00:00.000-04:00

Some of us have been deeply wounded by the church. I know. I’ve experienced this in my own life and moreover have seen the chasms of hurt that the church has carved into many that I love. These chasms have kept them away from church and as result really screwed with their ability to hear the Gospel. It makes me angry and I know that God has holy rage over every bit of it, but these hurts raise so many questions.

Why does the church often hurt those that the Gospel claims to heal?

Is the Church fundamentally flawed?

Could it be me? Are my motivations for looking for a church misplaced?

How did we get here?

Is the anything that we can do to heal and help our churches be more like what God wants them to be?

These are HUGE questions. They go way beyond the scope of my little blog or the intent of this series, but it doesn’t make them any less important so I will try in brief to address each of them.

I’m going to say something that may be kind of obvious.

Church is for sinners.

If we’ve come to know and believe the Gospel then we are redeemed and covered in Christ’s righteousness, but because we are still living in the muck and mire of this earth and flesh we will struggle with sin. Our only hope is to be led by the Holy Spirit and to be given a heart of flesh for a heart of stone. We are all subject to tripping and falling down. We expect more from our church leadership, but unfortunately they sometimes fall. Sometimes those failures are of huge proportions and yes, sometimes there are those who use their position of power to prey on members of their congregations. No excuses. This makes God sick. Don’t ever doubt this. However, I believe that there is healing for those who have been harmed by Christians who have behaved carelessly, destructively and abusively.

The Church has it’s flaws and our local churches are a microcosm of flawed folks trying to live life together. The Church may be full of flaws, but the Gospel is most definitely not. The Gospel is all about flawed people having their flaws covered over by a God who makes perfect and whole. Find a church that understands this and you have probably found a place to heal those scars from past church experiences.

One big problem that I find myself struggling with often is having a consumer mindset about church. Church is not meant to be a smorgasbord of ministries and programs tailored to meet my personal needs. Sorry to burst your bubble on this one (or my bubble rather). Pastor John Piper said, “Do you feel loved by God because you believe he makes much of you, or because you believe he frees you and empowers you to enjoy making much of him?” Our churches should exist not to make much of us, but rather that we might make much of Him to one another and to a dying world. We are programmed to be consumers in our American culture. We are programmed to think that everything we do should be about our own comfort, entertainment and benefit. Many of us go to church just to sit back and relax. We don’t believe that we should be asked to do more. The truth is that maybe we aren’t finding what we want in a church because we aren’t looking at ourselves honestly. Moreover, we aren’t looking at the Gospel honestly and submitting to God’s call for our life- to be wholly His.

We can look back at the letters of Paul to the New Testament churches and see that we aren’t dealing with anything new in our 21st century churches. That is the amazing thing about the Scriptures; they are timeless. We could go on a jaunt through American Protestant history, but ultimately we would see those same themes come out over and over again as the underlying issues of the American Church in 2011. Our only hope is to fall on the grace of God and seek His heart for our churches.

Sooooooo why is it worth it?

It is worth it because we were created for community. Period.

No man is an island.

We were not meant to live live alone.

We were meant to do life together.

We were created so that together we might glorify God with our lives and we don’t do it nearly as well on our own. I know some of you have encountered hurt from the Church and many individual churches, but that doesn’t mean those things aren’t true. Our churches should push us towards deeper relationship with one another and Christ. In our society where we tend to just barely skim the surface with one another this is often a foreign concept in our churches. This is sad and I believe grieves the heart of God. We need accountability. We need encouragement. We need to be pushed beyond what is comfortable for the sake of the Gospel. We need to know that this church thing isn’t about us being comfortable, but about us being holy. That is what it is about in the end…not me or we or us, but HIM. God is all about His glory and seeing His children, together, reveling in the messy grace that is His letter of love to each of us.

It is worth it. Infinitely worth it in this life and the life to come.

I Can’t Escape Gratitude

2011-10-10T06:00:00.000-04:00

It is only the second time we’ve stepped foot in this place. Young families, bulging bellies at every turn, life overflowing in this tiny downtown space made sanctuary. My nerves threaten to get the best of me- church hunting is not among my favorite activities- and I feel like I could run screaming away as the door closes behind me.

Every face is new.

Every name is new.

I long for the old, worn in and comfortable.

He longs for me to be holy and spent for the sake of the Gospel.

Aye, there is the rub.

We worship with these new faces and then the pastor steps forward. Old Words flow out of his mouth. The book of Colossians. again. I just can’t seem to get away from this letter. I’ve spent over a month in my little corner of morning light pouring over Paul’s words and pondering how to be an imitator of Christ. How to walk straight in a crooked world, shining as lights…

The pastor exposits and I listen for it. For the words that I know are there. The word that I need to have on the tip of my tongue at all time.

Thanks.

There it is written in nearly every other line of one of the Great Books tiniest of books. I just can’t get away from this thread of gratitude. Liberia sang it to my heart through palm branches and war-worn black faces. America sings it to my heart in family eager to love with abundance and blessings so undeserved.

God sings it over me no matter where I go.

I feel my shoulders relax and I breathe again. This new place, these unfamiliar faces, this gripping anxiety that leaves me scrambling for the door. I’m sowing seeds of ingratitude when I choose to reject what is right before me because of fear. I need to hear this sermon everyday. I need my heart preached a sermon of gratitude each and every moment. Paul plucked the string of gratitude throughout his letters to the New Testament churches because he knew that it wasn’t just something to encapsulate in a holiday while we scan the ads for Black Friday sales. No, it is part of being humbled under the weight of grace; the Gospel bearing down on needy hearts.

Grace and the Gospel have beared down hard on my heart this week. I squeak out thanks as I desperately try to process some big stuff. I pray with a hopeful heart to have my eyes opened to the grace of every day.

Just.keep.counting. Count with me, won’t you?

#1897-#1941

wallpaper removal, new restaurants, cooler weather, fall light, reconnecting with old fends, constantly moving baby girl, dreaming of her face, massages on achy arms and legs, black bean soup, bedtime reading, unhung pictures, being flexible to serve, old songs(that I haven’t heard in ages, but LOVE!), birdfeeders fixed and filled, washing dishes, schedules that allow me to serve, husband who gets out of bed each and every day, first words penned, the pain that God is using to make me the mama He wants me to be, heaps of garlic mashed potatoes, a God who fights for us, the grain of courage need to start writing, last trimester, dreaming of her face, ants, dinner with new friends, sharing stories of Liberia, new shiny laptop, autumn light, God- who’s hands are strong, gray tights, new Target, husband bringing home dinner, firm encouragement, sleep- whether peaceful or not, sunshine yellow, hum of the washing machine, not worrying about getting it all done, a day to write and create, this need to create, peaceful home- a place respite

Links to Life

2011-10-08T06:00:00.000-04:00

Another sparse list this week. In the coming weeks I plan on getting pretty exciting up in here with the L2L post. Holiday shopping for a cause anyone? There are so many amazing organizations out there that need your heart and hands! Stay tuned next week as I list off opportunities to support mentoring in your community and across the nation.

As for this week...take a look at these folks...

Convoy of Hope- I love their slogan, "a driving passion to feed the world" What do they do? (taken directly from their website) At Convoy of Hope our goals are to provide help and hope to people in need in the United States and around world through our children’s feeding initiatives, community outreaches, disaster response and partner resourcing.

Compassion International- I know that many of us are super familiar with Compassion, but I am posting them this week because October is the month for us sponsors to get in our Christmas gifts to our sponsored children. We've supported our "daughter" in Rwanda for nearly 10 years. She's growing into a beautiful young woman and I'm so blessed by the role that Compassion has played in my life and her life. Sponsors get your Christmas gifts in! If you aren't yet a sponsor visit Compassion's website on details on how you can partner and sponsor a child.

So quit poking around pinterest and check out these incredible organizations- ok, who am I kidding take a small break from pinterest and DIY for an incredible organization like Convoy of Hope or Compassion International!

5 Minute Friday: Ordinary

2011-10-07T06:00:00.000-04:00

Each week me and a whole bunch of other bloggers join up with the Gypsy Mama for a little writing exercise of faith. We write for 5 minutes and we say fughedaboutit to writing just right!

Topic: Ordinary

GO!

This is no ordinary life. The laundry, the dirty dishes, the lint stuck down in the dryer vent...all ordinary...but add it all up. The apples in the crockpot simmering cinnamon, the baby girl beneath my heart bouncing, the man whose love is like a force of nature in my life, the God who has not faltered or failed us one.single.time.

Evidence of a life far more than ordinary.

But these days can seem ordinary. These days when we are finding the way for our hearts to rest when they havebeen jilted and jolted all over the Northern hemisphere in the last year. These days when we no longer wonder what is going to fill the bank account. I find myself thinking that we have settled into the ordinary, but really it is extraordinary how we got here. How two people who set out on a journey to West Africa a year ago could have their lives so turned upside down by a bigger than our vision God. It occurs to me that the root word of ordinary might just be ordained. A journey that is ordained at every crooked curve by a God who ordains the ordinary to make us more like Him.

So I revel in the details of this-couldn't-be-ordinary-if-it-tried journey.

Ordinary laundry, dishes and lint- extraordinary journey from a God who ordains our ordinary.

STOP!

Waiting on the Thread of Motherhood to be Pulled Long

2011-10-06T06:00:00.000-04:00

An edited re-post from the archives. God is so,so,so,so good. His timing is perfect. Who knew when I typed this out a little over a year ago that these words would fall like a prophetic soliloquy. God did use Liberia to change me and plant a seed that would become not only fruit in my heart, but also a growing joy under my heart. I feel so humbled and blessed that this thread is finally be pulled long. Baby girl is on her way- a Christmas gift they tell me.

None better.

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I shift in my seat uncomfortably...I have nothing to say...no one calls me "mama" yet.

See it isn't for lack of wanting that we don't have children...yet. It's just that God is weaving something a little different into our lives and children aren't the thread being pulled long at this time. Even 5 years into this thing.

I would be lying if I said that I don't feel altogether inadequate to have kids because truthfully those inadequacies and the way they spread their fingers into every crevice of my life are the things that I struggle with most. Nonetheless that isn't it. I believe in a God that fills my gaps so the idea of a tiny voice calling me "mama" doesn't leave me panicked. I know that He is going to make me what I need to be, just like His Son. Perfect. Gulp. In my experience that never comes easy.

What do you do in the meantime?

What do you do through these days of being pulled head long onto the mission field and out of a comfortable, normal life? I try to glean from all the moms around me. Glean from their struggles, triumphs, disasters, joys. I wrap up all the cuteness of my nieces and nephews and I tell their tales as if they were my own. I take note of my own selfishness and look forward to the day that my selfish heart will be measured and found wanting behind the needs of a tiny bundle.

Me, a doula, whose heart leaps at the process of babies born and families made can't wrap my mind around being on the other side of all that I call work. Liberia may change this. Liberia means many hours spent looking into the faces of mothers whose only desire is to keep their children alive. Sacrifice...eating the leftovers...if there are any. Yes, Liberia will change this. I feel it in my bones and when I feel something in my bones...well, it is usually an omen of things to come.

All this amounts to God's unstoppable, continuing, mighty work in my feeble life.

God's unstoppable lessons that if heeded will make me holy.

He is, even now, making room in my heart for my flesh to bring forth another and for me to say it's all grace. He is making room for me and the husband to stretch the thread long into parenthood and all that it entails. Truly I am looking forward to the day that I begin my forever job. Just a little while now...a world of change (mainly in my heart) and probably a couple of years (for all the moms and grandmoms reading this and wondering if I am writing this because I am pregnant- no, I'm not).

To all the moms out there whose blogs I follow daily. Keep blogging and singing your triumphant tales of motherhood and your complete failures of mommy-dom. They are lessons to my heart. I am honored to read and learn and know that God is purifying us both.

(Part 3) Our Jaded Church Hunting Past

2011-10-05T06:00:00.001-04:00

I want to level with you this week.

I'm no expert at finding a church- I'm pretty sure their aren't any experts, and if someone says they are, well...run...because they probably want your money. Me on the other hand, I'm no expert, but I have walked this church hunting road before. Correction I have stumbled down this road before half blind and drunk. This week I thought I would share with you from some of our past experiences and hopefully offer some encouragement in the joy, laughter, pain and tears that is trying to find a "c"hurch in this brave, new 21st century world.

We'd only been married a few weeks. We were new in town (Asheville, NC) and we knew absolutely nobody. Now some of my readers might know a little bit about Asheville. It is a retirement paradise, a hippy hangout, a New Age mecca, a beer lover's promised land, a Southern fried city, a tourist's dream, and an outdoor enthusiast's utopia. There is a church on every corner. Asheville attracts people from nearly ever walk of life so much so that they made the city's tourism slogan "Any Way You Like It"- no lie, this is for real.

I'm putting this in here simply because I do love AVL.

There is a scene that is really galvanized in my memory from our 5 years of living in the AVL (that's what us locals call it- so cool). We were watching the evening news and there was a report about a recent LGBT rally downtown. The rally was pretty large, but if you looked onto the other side of the street there were opposing protestors wearing starched colors and holding Bibles. When the protestors were interviewed they dropped all kinds of words and phrases like "Sodomite" and "those people". The point I am driving home is that Asheville is a melting pot of uber legalism and extreme acceptance of any and every lifestyle out there. There are a million different churches and a million different versions of the gospel. Finding a church, one full of grace and Gospel truth, in this melting pot puts you at serious risk of exhaustion and confusion.

After getting settled in we began the hunt. Downtown, uptown, little church, small church, non-denominational; you name it we tried it. Week after week we would scan the internet, yellow pages, and street corners for potential. Our landlord, a sweetheart of a man, invited us to his church. We felt like it was worth a shot. He assured us that the atmosphere was laid back and that we should "come as we are".

WORD OF WARNING: Never say this to my husband. Why? Because he will take you seriously.

On the Sunday that we were set to go the hubs throws on his old thermal lined hoodie, Carrharts and Chacos. He looked homeless, but being the wifey that I am I dressed in my shabby chic (I like to think it is more chic than shabby) style and said not a word to my vagabond clad husband. We arrived at the temporary church abode (a local middle schoool) snuck into the service a few minutes late and sat at the back. We were there just in time to see the all white choir gently sway to that week's upbeat music selection. The sermon (not to be critical) was not particularly memorable, but what occurred afterwards was. Immediately upon the close of the service we were descended upon by a woman who looked like she was channeling Coco Chanel and Dolly Parton at the same time. A fur around her neck, hair of skyscraper proportions and more gold than King Solomon could have dreamed of streaming from every orifice. She was Southern fried to be certain (and honey, I know Southern fried) and I think she was pretty certain that we (thanks dear!) were homeless. Yes, we were homeless people visiting church. How nice. The moments following were a cacophony of awkwardness that I care not to repeat ever. ever. again.

There was also the time that we visited a little bitty church that was working on putting together a really slick worship band. The lead singer was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and had a fine mustache. He really liked to wrap the mike cord around his hand and rock out. It was funny...distracting...and funny.

But I digress...(because truthfully if I told you some of my other church hunting stories I'm fairly certain you wouldn't believe me- like the time I scared people in the visitor's welcome breakfast because of an excited outburst that we had a common acquaintance)

Besides all of the humorous situations that we encountered there seemed to be over an over again a thread of discouragement sewn into all of our experiences. Rarely did we leave a service feeling welcomed or fed. We visited one particular church a handful of times and liked the welcoming feeling and the fact that there was a sense of grace and outward focus exuding from this church, but the problem was that although it was evident that the folks that attended this church (many were actually homeless or recovering from a multitude of addictions and mental illness) were all desperately aware of their need for Jesus many of them had not proceeded further than that in their journeys to joy and faith in Christ. They had stopped short of embracing the full Gospel which leads to the fullest of lives.

We arrived at this church one morning after having a tug of war about where to go that Sunday. I was emotionally exhausted with this hunt. The husband was incredibly frustrated with all that we had seen and heard thus far in the journey. Me in tears and him with jaw clenched sat in the car arguing and venting our frustrations. We ended up skipping church that day. We reevaluated what we were looking for and committed anew to trusting God to lead us.

A few short weeks later on a whim we checked out a church that I had stumbled upon online. It was a Presbyterian church which was totally unfamiliar to us, but that ended up not mattering because we were confronted with the Gospel lived and preached when we visited. Our hearts were refreshed and we watched in awe as God swung wide open doors of fellowship and ministry in the coming months and years.

We know this road isn't easy, but we know it to be worth it.

So how is the current incarnation of church hunting going? Not so bad.

The first church we visited upon the recommendation of some friends that recently moved away. We knew the pastor and a little bit about the vision and style. We knew going in that it might not be a perfect fit. It wasn't and that's ok. Last Sunday we found another church that looked promising and I have to say it was a good experience. We both left fed, welcomed and encouraged. We're not as eager as we once were so we are taking things slowly. We'll probably go back again this Sunday. After siphoning through a few dozen in Asheville in seems almost too good to be true that we could find a church on our second try. So like I said we're taking things slowly.

I hope that our story encourages any of you out there searching. It is worth it. I wouldn't be writing each week about the subject if I didn't feel in my bones that it is worth it to engage with a local body of believers. Chin up. God hasn't left you.

Leave encouragements, criticisms, or questions in the comments or email me at femininefaith(at)gmail(dot)com

Next week: (Part 4) Why It's Worth It

Blessed Be the Giver

2011-10-03T06:00:00.000-04:00

It was barely a year ago when we were standing on the precipice of a God-sized adventure. We had asked so many to jump from this precipice with us and we were absolutely blown away at how God used so many to supply our every need. That's the thing about trusting God with a calling so big.

You're never alone.

From the outset of this journey we prayed and hoped long that it wouldn't just be us on this journey. That others would come alongside to be stretched to faith. What we learned is that it isn't the people that you'd expect. It isn't the people who's pocketbooks run deep that rise to faith and step off that precipice with you. No, it is those that are poor (in wealth and spirit) and weak like you.

The ones that know in their flesh and bone that they can't walk this faith road alone and neither can you.

Each week I plodded out emails to friends who have shared means and shared grace and have with each email been a tangible means of grace to to me. I'd pour out the real details of the journey; the nitty gritty, ugly, unglamorous parts. The refugees, the marriage struggles, the non-stop stress, my own sin drenched-grace thirsty heart, the screaming neighbors, the malnourished in body and soul (sometimes that was me), the lost co-workers, the long Land Rover rides into the bush, the morning sickness, and the less than romantic life of a missionary.

The beautiful heart of Corrie Ten Boom may have said it best,"Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God." When this missionary journey began we knew it meant trusting big. God more than supplied and He used people, redeemed sinners, His hopeful journeyers to do it. I know that some of the folks that joined this journey were in the same place as us- holding their breath at the end of the month as their bank account dwindled uncomfortably low. Without fail they wrote another check the next month and blessed us as we were riding deep into the Liberian bush to bind up the broken places.

What courage. What faith. What indescribable blessing to our uncertain hearts.

Amazing in retrospect to know that when we felt like we were free falling that others were willingly free falling with us straight into the safe, strong arms of our Father. They were willingly building lives to last. We bless and those blessings are the cornerstones of a life that lasts into eternity. Their faith rising into the sky like a skyscraper to touch us and echoing down through the ages with Paul's letter to the Thessalonians, "...we were ready to share with you not only the Gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us."

Those that have walked this road with us are incredibly dear. They are dear because they know the Gospel to be dear, precious, priceless.

They gave and we have been abundantly blessed.
Blessed be the Giver.

"In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'" Acts 20:35

Counting each week the grace that is ours together in Christ Jesus. Please join the endless counting!

#1858-#1897

husband home early, learning flexibility (when it doesn't come naturally), living within our means, afternoons together, French press deal, rain and coffee, getting everything done, not feeling overwhelmed, Grandma visiting, drives up the mountain, all of my Asheville haunts, 1,000 women in pink pajamas, dear friends and fellow ministers of grace, hair cut, hugs, tons of free towels, lunch with Cecilia (what a blessing!), NC apples, rain clearing to the bluest blue, quiet ride home, dinner coupons, cousin Paige, couch finally here (and comfy too!), grieving, growing and loving well, Saturday togheter, Sunday rest, church encouragement, seeing myself clearly (even through the ugliness), inspiration board, husbands who work late (and still bring home milkshakes to their pregnant wives), apples peeled, happy, Grandma safely home, broken bird feeders, exhausted bedtime conversations, apples and cinnamon simmering, using everything up, homemade laundry detergent, ball jars

Links to Life

2011-10-01T06:00:00.000-04:00

I'm on a Maternity Care/House kick...could be because I am pregnant...could be because I am a birth doula...could be because I think that ministries that engage women when they are vulnerable and alone are maybe the coolest way to live out the Gospel ever. Could be...

Here are the links for this week (one maternity home and one home for women who are homeless (possibly pregnant) and in need)

Heartline Ministries Haiti- Heartline Ministries is a holistic ministry to women in Haiti. Focusing on building Haiti through building strong, healthy women this is a fantastic place to see God at work. It is a maternity home as well as a growing ministry to women in general. Follow them on twitter...Facebook...whatever just find a way to get involved!

I've got a cool story to go with this next L2L. We just moved to a new town. We're totally out of our comfort zone here. We miss Liberia. We miss our mountains, but we know God is at work. While we were making a trip here to find a house I stumbled upon this new ministry designed to meet women right where they are and provide hope and healing. So now I am hopefully gonna have an opportunity to put my heart and hands to work by volunteering!

King's Daughters Ministry- They are serving women in our local community who may be the victims of abuse, homeless, pregnant or just in need of support and professional counseling. LOVE! They've got some great goals!
* To proclaim the message of reconciliation with God through Christ as foundation for all healing.
* To provide emotional comfort and support through professional and peer counseling.
* To provide practical safety and physical provision through residential status and partnerships with health professionals.
* To provide spiritual and personal growth through biblical teachings, through partnerships with spiritual and educational experts, and through lay leader mentoring.
Check them out and give them a big ol' like on Facebook, mmmmkkkk? Oh, and pray (pray, pray, pray!) for this fledgling ministry as they work towards opening their doors in October 2012.

Just two for this week, but so much to do with just two! Check out the rest of the links on the L2L page on my blog.

5 Minute Friday: On Friends

2011-09-30T06:00:00.000-04:00

Linking up again for 5 minute Friday. This is for all of us out there who analyze and over-analyze our writing. The idea? (Thanks to the Gypsy Mama) Write for 5 minutes and don't worry if it is right!

Topic: On Friends

GO!

Its technology that keeps us connected these days. Emails typed out in the early morning before wee ones wake. Facebook messages that almost have the audible squeals, complaints, cries and screams of kiddos in the background. I ache like Brother Paul to see so many of you. Me, in this new place not knowing a soul, and the rest of you scattered like seed from coast to coast.

There is a dread for me about meeting new people. It creeps in around the edges of my heart these days and I have to shake it loose. I've proven (I hope) to be a friend worth having and I've also proven to be someone who is choosy about the friends that I have. That is why I count all of you so valuable and precious.

You are rare jewels.

Rare jewels that I have talked long, cried long and laughed long with through the polishing. Might I be so lucky as to find a few more of you scattered along the road of this life?

STOP!

How to Know What You're Hunting For (Part 2)

2011-09-28T06:00:00.001-04:00

This is not a recipe. I repeat "THIS IS NOT A RECIPE!"
If you want a recipe look here and here.

All this talk about why we should go to church begs the question, "How do you find a church?"In a world with a million denominations (and non-denominations, whatever that means) and a million types of churches within those denominations, how can one go about finding one that fits?

A new friend in the blogosphere, Ashley Haupt of Little Pieces of Ordinary, wrote something the other day that really caught my eye and fit right in with today's post.

No church will be perfectly approved in a culture where a church search is a lot like buying a car because a church is only as good as its members and Jesus said no one is good but God, so it's true what they say: church is only a place where beggars go to show other beggars how to find bread (quoted from Tullian Tchvidjian). And grace covers over us all with a white robe smelling a whole lot like righteousness undeserved.

Did you catch that first sentence? Let me throw it out again in case you missed it:

"No church will be perfectly approved in a culture where a church search is a lot like buying a car because a church is only as good as its members and Jesus said no one is good but God."

This is truth which brings me to the first way to know if a church is right for you. Is grace the fragrance that permeates this church? Am I am able to look around at the people in the congregation and see that God's grace and His goodness poured out on undeserving sinners is the fragrance that fills this place. If it isn't well...that is when we turn and run for the door.

You are probably wondering why I chose to start off with that point. Well, worship styles, kids programs, charismatic (in the adjective not the noun sense) preaching and quite frankly even denomination matters very little to me if the heart of the Gospel is on display. Like Ashley said (loosely said) are we buying a car or are we seeking Jesus?

Rather than belaboring this process with seven critical points to finding a church let me just share a little bit of my own story and my top 3 ways to know if the church you are visiting might be a good fit. I grew up in an Independent Baptist church (a whole lot of legalism with only a sprinkling of grace here and there). My husband grew up Southern Baptist. We met working in a non-denominational ministry where we were exposed to everything from Anglican to Nazarene to Zionists and everything in between. When we got married we moved to a new town and visited a lot of different churches. We finally landed in a PCA (Presbyterian Church in America). This was totally unexpected because neither of us had very much experience with Presbyterians.

Bottom line is that we were drawn to the PCA, and this church in particular, for a few reasons. The first service we sat in we were exposed to preaching that was more meat than milk. I am all for drawing people in who do not yet know Christ, but you also have to be intentional about feeding your flock. We visited tons of churches where afterwards we left hungry (physically and spiritually- come on folks a pastry breakfast would be nice...) and discouraged.

So if I had to choose the #1 thing (other than a grace filled church- which it will be if the teaching is Gospel centered and the congregation is engaged) that we look for is solid, Biblical teaching. Don't be afraid to vet the pastor's credentials. Listen to some of his past sermons. Most churches, with the exception of some smaller more rural churches, will have the pastor's sermons on their website. If they don't ask for a CD or a tape (yes, tapes do still exist).

#2 on my list would have to be, is the worship God centered or man centered? I am a fan of modern worship and traditional worship. I've come a long way in my heart and thinking to be able to say that. However, the one thing that I can't stand and I mean CAN'T stand about modern worship is the focus being not on a God who has sustained us and is worthy of all our worship, but rather on ourselves. Worship style is a preference. Worship content should be all about Christ.

#3 does the congregation see the need to focus themselves outwardly? This goes not just for what we would call "outreach" but also for just embracing one another and lifting one another up in prayer and encouragement. A church focused on Christ and living out the Gospel will be a church where the members are focused on one another in love and grace. This also might mean being uncomfortable. We all could benefit from having fellow believers in our life who are willing to pray for us and call us out when we are being crappy Christians...yes, I said crappy Christians. I'll raise my hand to for that one- been there, done that.

Could I go on? You betcha. Should I go on? Probably not. Once again if you are looking for a recipe try here and here. Ultimately the Holy Spirit should play a big role in this decision. You might find yourself, as we did, in a church where the denomination was not what we were used too. God knew that we needed that. Don't shut the door on a church simply because it isn't what you are used to denominationally, stylistically or culturally. One thing I will encourage though is to try and find a church nearby where you live. If you truly want to invest in the community that God has placed you in then you don't want to be traveling an hour across town. I know that isn't always a possibility, but if it is try and keep it close to home.

Before I close let me interject a fourth reason. #4, will your kids be exposed consistently and purposefully to the Gospel? This hasn't been a concern personally for me up to this point, but with baby girl on the way it is definitely something on my mind during our present incarnation of Church hunting. Now, I don't mean does the church do the biggest most blow out VBS the world has ever seen each year. I mean will your kids be saturated by the Gospel each time they are at church. Are they going to have the opportunity to learn and grow through being taught about Jesus from the earliest age? Are there people in the church that are willingly stepping into the role of working with children? Does the body itself see itself as responsible to raise and nurture the children to know and love Jesus? Will they be allowed to grow up watching adults live out the Gospel side by side?

Just something to consider.
Kool-aid is an extra bonus.

Also, remember this Christian life isn't just about church. Keep that in focus and you'll probably find a church.

There are many other things to consider so leave your thoughts in the comments!

Next week: "Our Jaded Church Hunting Past" (sounds fun, huh?)

When You Realize You'll Never Have Enough to Give

2011-09-26T06:00:00.001-04:00

Words fail to slip past my lips. These dreams that I keep having. Lost, left, alone. They wake me sweaty and grief stricken. They wake me to realize again and again that 15 years later I'm still a daughter wandering around without her mother. A daughter preparing to be what she lost years ago. The dream was momentary.

It was her Bible on a pew, but she was nowhere to be found.

He knows the pain that I've limped along under. He has let me cry till his shirt was soaked clean through. I know when he married me he couldn't wrap his mind around how a person could contain so many tears. How a heart could contain so much grief. Truthfully, I don't think I even knew. He has held me and we have cried and he has spoken truth over my cracked heart and it has healed in so many ways. He sees through all the half-hearted smiles and the clawing to be normal when my childhood was anything but.

He wraps me tight.
He puts his lips to my ear and he speaks truth.
Plain and simple truth.

The truth that this motherhood thing isn't about me and my lack of a mama. This motherhood thing isn't something that I can just emulate by watching another person and claim to have it figured out. No, motherhood is the aching in my bones that I feel as baby girl grows and my faith is stretched. Because of all the muscle and joint stretching that come with pregnancy it is the tug and pull to trust a deeper grace that leave me with the most growing pains.

Motherhood is this aching to give everything you have to someone who needs another person's everything. Ultimately motherhood is being a vessel of God's grace to another human being. He reminds me that an empty vessel can only be filled one way, from the top down. I need to be filled. I need to overflow. Grief has been a drain on me. Telling me that I can't mother because I wasn't fully mothered.

Telling me that I'll never have enough to give.

Ain't that the truth.

I'll never have enough to give.

¹⁷For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace (emphasis added) and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ. (Romans 5:17)

But Jesus, He gave it all. He gives me all everyday. I am empty, He is full and we dance. We dance and it is in this dance that I realize that motherhood is a filling of the empty and a pouring out of the full. It is a dance in and of itself. One that I will spend a lifetime learning the steps too.
I count these new dance steps and I find grace in each one. Count along with me, won't you?

#1819-#1857

seeing family ujexpectedly, wild children playing, dessert, gray days, sleeping in, new desk, The Word preached, shredders, recliners in the sunroom, birds gathering black cat stalking, enchilada soup in the sunroom, all these aches and pains, new wreath, husband up for work early, another week to live out grace, Sara's life, Sara's words, letting it out, the grace of loss, time to read, study time, a husband who prays, a husband who speaks truth over me, feeling weak, a bit more like home disappearing bird seed, antique travel case (99 cents!), wreath hung, cross in the window, baby showers for us , holding hands, bagel treats, rain jackets, rainy mornings, long kisses, cheap picture frames, forgetting my list but remembering most everything , this heavy full feeling, red hoodie

Links to Life

2011-09-24T06:00:00.000-04:00

I know it has been awhile, but I am still committed to offering up links that drag us all out of our comfort zone and into the middle of life lived for the sake of the Gospel and binding up the wounds of this old, sick world.

Here are a couple that I'm really excited about!

Mercy House- Providing a safe place for women and complete maternity care to women in Kenya. Such an exciting ministry! As a birth doula and someone who has worked in maternity care in Africa this is something that blesses me to no end. The story behind the Mercy House is incredible and is such a testament to what God will do with a heart that is willing to serve Him! Please, please, please (is that too much begging?) check this link out!

International Justice Mission- A human rights organization working to address issues surrounding slavery and sexual exploitation all over the world. There website is a great way to educate yourself and others about slavery- a real problem all over the world.

Just two links this week, but more than enough ways to get involved!

5 Minute Friday: Growing

2011-09-21T15:32:00.006-04:00

Never a dull moment here in the blogosphere...5 minute Fridays make for 5 uninterrupted un-dull moments for us writers. I'm linking up again this week with Lisa-Jo! Join the fun. Write for 5 minutes on the gypsy mama's prompt and don't worry if it is right! Simple, right? Write!

Topic: Growing

GO!

I can see it. My feet slowly disappearing beneath belly. I can feel it. My sides aching at the end of the day. The nightly ritual to find a comfortable way to rest my weary bones- to rest our weary bones. But it is in the dim light of morning that I see and feel it most clearly. This growing isn't just budding out of my flesh and bone. This growing is deeper and as you grow I am stretched heart and soul. Stretched to find a way to love you well in a world that does not love well. Stretched to make a place for you to grow outside of my body. A cultivated life of joy and peace. This is what I hope for us.

I am a woman very much on my own growth journey. Growing through the pain of loss and the holes that were left gaping. You are baby girl limbs, stretching and growing every day. You need my shade to grow. You need my strength to grow. Our roots intertwined irreconcilably. You are only as strong as I am. I stretch root and tip towards sky and Father and I find that a tree planted well, besides springs of life has but one choice. Growth.

Why church if we're the Church? (Part 1.5)

2011-09-21T06:00:00.003-04:00

I have an aunt who (out of the blue) recently started proclaiming that she has found Jesus. Now I'm not here to argue with her about the genuineness of her faith, but here is the rub. She found Jesus through a televangelist. Ok, before you jump on my case about not being judgmental of people who consistently watch t.v. preachers perhaps are home-bound and have little other choice let me just say I don't want to argue about this. Let me also say that you can do those folks a favor and burn a disc of some podcasts from pastors that are Biblically solid...nuf' said. Anyways...My point is that my aunt watches these televangelists, hangs on every word and believes that she doesn't need to be a part of a local body of believers.

She believes she doesn't need to be a part of a local body of believers.

Are we tracking now?

I don't know her foundations for this belief, but I would guess it goes a little something like what I've heard other folks say about the matter:

I believe in Jesus. I believe the Gospel, but I'm not comfortable in church. I don't have to go to church to be a Christian. There are plenty of people who go to church, but aren't Christians.

You won't get a disagreement out of me about these matters. I've been in a lot of churches that I wasn't comfortable in...in fact I was in one just this past Sunday- fun times! That begs the question from my post title, "Why church (little "c") if we're the Church (BIG "C")? I think this deserves a look at Scripture.

Hebrews 10:19-25
¹⁹ Therefore, brothers,^[c] since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, ²⁰by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, ²¹and since we have a great priest over the house of God, ²²let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. ²³ Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. ²⁴And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, ²⁵ not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

I love theology, but I'm not going to try and get too deep here. There really isn't any need too. The Word is pretty straightforward here. We're weak and we need each other to walk this life of the Gospel and proclaim the Word of God to one another and a dying world.

"Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some.."

As believers in the Gospel we are part of the BIG "C" Church, but all of us may not be part of the little "c" church for a variety of reasons. We gain membership in the BIG "C" Church through the blood of Christ (the BIG "C" Church doesn't have a building, but is built and housed in Christ) and we are driven to be a part of a local little "c" church for the same reasons, but also so that we can be a part of the visible work of Christ on this earth. Not to mention that God gets so much glory when His children gather in unison to lift us His name.

We're the body of Christ. The remnant left behind to praise and proclaim grace until He returns. In our independent culture the temptation is to sleep in on Sunday mornings, live our Christian lives on our own, and call it well enough. But that would be like a head floating out in space and an arm floating somewhere else and a leg riding a bike without the rest of the body (just plain weird)...it just doesn't work and absolutely nothing gets accomplished for the sake of the Gospel when we choose not to engage with a local body of believers.

Let me just say how much I hate church hunting. I love being a part of the "C"hurch, but finding a "c"hurch...well...I'd rather have a root canal...without anesthesia. But we do it because as Christians we are (hopefully) growing in our understanding of grace which makes being a part of a church, even one that is flawed (and they are ALL flawed, if it wasn't before you got there it will be now!), part of becoming conformed to image of Christ.

The bottom line for me as a believer is that I need other believers- regularly- to be sharpened by and to be lifted up to the Father by. I need the teaching of my local church so that I can be certain that my beliefs are in line with the Gospel. I need the local church so that we can impact, together, our community for the Gospel. I can't do this on my own nearly as effectively as I can when I am working alongside other believers. I don't think that church is supposed to look any certain way, but I am confident that a healthy church that warrants your involvement will be one where redeemed sinners gather out of humility, the Word is relentlessly preached, God is uninterruptedly worshiped, and the local and global community are unceasingly pursued for the sake of Christ. That can look about a million different ways. I've seen about half a million of those different ways...

Ok, so that is more than enough for one post...but let me just say one more thing. America, we've got it so good. We sit around and complain that there just isn't a church out there that suits our taste. We complain about the churches we are in when they decide to make even the slightest change in the way things have been done. We're fat and happy and spoiled to think that church is about us. That is a foreign concept to 99.9% of the Christ followers in this world who hide in secret and risk their lives to be part of the "C"hurch. There are Christians all over the world that gather together weekly at the risk of their lives and their familly's lives because they believe that the Gospel is that important. So please, (and I am talking to myself chiefly) lets not make this little "c" church thing about us.

I'm sure there are a hundred other reasons I could cite for the need for each of us to take hold of the Gospel and invest our lives in a local body of Christ followers, but I digress...for good reason I am sure. Leave any thoughts or additions in the comments or feel free to email me at femininefaith(at)gmail(dot)com

Next Wednesday: "How to Know What You're Hunting For"

Fall in My Soul and a Winter Full of Life

2011-09-19T06:00:00.003-04:00

I find myself losing time these days. I lose time to dreaming in a way that I never have. Which is truly saying something because I am nothing if I am not a thinker and a dreamer. I have this gift and curse of storing up those thoughts and dreams. I store them up tight lipped. Afraid to let even a drop leak out. Afraid that those thoughts and dreams will fall onto deaf ears and blank stares.

I went for my last pre-natal appointment last week and my blood pressure was really good- low, but in a good way. Its as if all these dreams stored so deep have been aching to get out and now that they are my whole self is relaxing into a sweet rhythm. I dream of words written out and reaching out to touch the broken places of people I am yet to meet. I dream of baby girl, part me, part him and part a love that will not let me go. I dream of looking into her eyes and I already feel the healing that I know her eyes and tiny hands will inevitably mean for me.

These dreams are all gift.

All gifts heavy laden with all the good things of life. All the ways that God is rending His purposes and plans in my life despite my tight grip. Fall is coming. Another North Carolina summer is letting go. The trees are bending gentle under the autumn wind. The light in the trees takes on dimensions that make the heart ache. These places I've held back for so long. Motherhood, artist in me welling up, words to gift...fall means letting go, but this winter means life for once.

Counting grace through each season...

#1763-#1818

to do lists, wooden filing cabinets, sister-in-law talks, front porchsittin', mornings at the kitchen table, Daddy/daughter conversations, days leading into fall, joy for tacos, 3 baby shower!, lunch plans with Cecilia, Ingles, front porch lunch, food in the pantry, evil weeds conquered, sausage, sun on my back, Kyle home safe, table and lamp, starting to feel like home, dreamin' in baby girl's room, snugglin' bed, dancing in the kitchen, ceiling fan just right, baby heartbeat(again!), healthy mama, safe driving, midwives, checking things off, lasagna, husband home and smiling, bowl full of carrots, t.v. comedy, great Avett Brother's song, baby kickin' out, a couch a comin' (soon we hope), more ideas than my brain can contain, getting organized, emails that lift a weight, husband snores, an excited restless feeling, Cherry Dr. Pepper (replacement for an attempt gone awry), unfriendly neighbors, buttons (orange ones in particular, rainy day a'comin', Japanese food, date night, cookie treat, wearing it well, periwinkle blue, Solomon prayers, truth spoken from a passionate heart, a willingness to die for the Gospel, low (but good) blood pressure, morning kisses, cool fall breezes, dying well after a life well lived

5 Minute Friday: Joy

2011-09-16T08:44:00.004-04:00

Such an appropriate prompt for this week as I think about a distant blog acquaintance who has always stunned me with her joy and now is facing death with a joy not of this world. Here I am on a Friday with cold winds rolling in and the signal that fall is finally at hand to write 5 minutes of peace about a concept that I've struggled with for most of my little life; JOY.

JOY!

Go!

I spun around and around in my desk chair in my college dorm room. Emily sat on the bed laughing and poking fun at all the Christian claims to joy. Just be joyful...Life crashing down around you? You oughta have joy! Life creeping sad around the edges of guilt, doubt and searching- just have joy! Joy being spoken of like a magic elixir sold by a peddler along life's road. But even as 18 year old girls we sneered at this thought. Both of us searching out how to make it through a miserable freshman year.

Fast forward 5 years. Emily found joy in those 5 years traveling across oceans to hold the sick and weak and least of these. She found joy in a man who would be her husband if only time had allowed. Moreover, she found joy in her Savior. A deep joy that became a daily choice to accept or reject. She accepted it arms wide open. She accepted it most deeply of all when the wheels came off of her car and she stepped on shore of a distant, holy land. Joy of joys to put her hand in the hand of her Father.

I have found my own way to joy. A lost childhood- vacant of joy filled memories. I searched far and wide for people to fill my joy sized heart hole. God has abundantly filled those empty spaces. So much so that when I look around at my life and the overflow it is joy that seems to ooze out of all the cracks- the sweetness of life. Joy it is not a magic elixir. It is the lining of life that allows us to take all of the broken sickness and sadness and like origami reshape it into the beautiful outline of faith,hope and love.

We've got all of the pieces to bring joy to life. What are we going to do with them?

What if Starbucks Marketed Like a Church?

2011-09-15T08:48:00.004-04:00

For anyone following along with my new series, "Church Hunting in the 21st Century" this is a great (very funny and relatable) video. Sit back and try to laugh through the cringes that this will inevitably evoke! See you next Wednesday for Part 1.5!

On the Hunt: Church Hunting in the 21st Century (Part 1)

2011-09-13T17:08:00.004-04:00

This week I'm beginning a series that I hope will be thought provoking as well as helpful. We've all been at points in our life where we've had to find a new church to call home. It evokes anxiety in me to be quite honest and I know I am not the only one out there who feels this way.

Let me set the scene:

You're new to town. You don't know anybody. There is a church on every corner (at least if you are in the South) each with a name more bizarre and disconcerting than the next. You make excuses for a couple of weeks; we're getting moved, I need a couple of weeks to recoup from the move, I need a week to just focus on me and God, I'm currently attending John Piper's church via my iPod...You get what I'm sayin'. I'm not saying these aren't good excuses, but excuses they are nonetheless. So at some point conviction sets in and you reluctantly go to a nearby church or search the internet for a church with a flashy website. The experience leaves you mad, sad, embarrassed, concerned, confused, and slightly bereft. You don't know where to go next. You don't know if it is even worth it to go. The thought of attending another visitor's pastry and coffee social makes you nauseous. Not to mention enduring another round of worship with a guy leading who looks like Nashville threw up on him...am I being harsh? Maybe, but is this reality? It has been for me.

Does any of this sound familiar?

It doesn't just sound familiar to me it feels familiar. In fact my husband and I find ourselves in this place again after having just went through all of this nearly 6 years ago. I want to offer some help to others that might be in the same situation so for the next 6 weeks I am going to post on a few different topics pertaining to being part of the local church and the Church universal (as in all those who are part of the Body of Christ through confession and faith in the blood of Christ and His atoning work on the cross). I hope this can serve as a helpful guide for those of you, like my husband and I, who are just looking for a local Body of believers to live life alongside of in light of the Gospel.

Here is how it'll go (Complete with enticing sounding post names!):
(Part 1.5) Why church if we're the Church?
(Part 2) How to Know What You're Hunting For
(Part 3) Our Jaded Church Hunting Past
(Part 4) Why It's Worth It
(Part 5) The Hunt is On
(Part 6) What Do You Do With it Once You've Caught It?

I really hope you will follow along with this series because I know if you aren't there now you probably will be at some point. So join me on Wednesdays for a glimpse into our current church hunt and some hopeful guidance on finding a body that fits your needs and spurs you on to growth and being more and more conformed to the image of Christ.

Grace for the Unexpected

2011-09-12T11:31:00.005-04:00

This Monday I am dragging- all the best laid plans of mice and men fall apart when moving is added into the equation. We've finally made some head way and it has been nice to see the carpet come to the surface from beneath all our plastic bins and boxes. We're still sitting on the floor, but the porch swing and the slowly changing breezes of an impending North Carolina autumn has beckoned easing the pain of no indoor furniture.

So here we are. Wherever here is. Here in what still feels like the in between. In between Liberia and the faces that pop up in our nightly dreams and the here and now which is a new town, a new home, a new way of life. I don't know how, but all of this seems more foreign than the shores of West Africa ever did. Maybe it is the rate at which things have changed. Maybe it is the unexpectedness of it all. I don't really know. I just know that there are nights when I toss and turn in an air conditioned room more than I ever did in the blazing heat and still heaviness of a Liberian night. I wonder if this will stop. If this tugging on my heart to be more, see more, do more will ever settle down to a manageable level because right now small town life in my homeland of the Southern U.S. seems out of rhythm with the noises and sights of Liberian life that still remain thick in my memory.

That is why I grasp desperately at grace. I find myself clawing for it because it is the only thing that can make sense out of all this unexpectedness. Because although it is all so unexpected it is all so full of grace that my heart and soul can't deny it and can't see past it to anything but grace, after grace, after grace.

So I count...one more and one more and one more. I count through tears and I count through frustration and I count through the not knowing because there is grace and it is abundant and I am, even in the midst of the not knowing so, so, so blessed to be on this journey.

#1663-#1762

good deals, belly moving, family moving help, a clean house that the whole family helped with!, burritos, Tums for dessert, grocery shopping, our bed, fresh linens, dinner at home, grateful prayers, movies in bed, red velvet ice cream, sense of security, a new adventure, restful sleep, not feeling overwhelmed, a God who provides even when we don't trust He will, quiet, shiny new truck, truck problems (who knows what grace?), car loaded down, one way home, greasy kid prints, things coming together, stirfry dinners, loads and loads of laundry, home office, new beginnings, rain coming down in sheets, sleeping better, shiny blue phone, kitchen organized, birdy fabric, first day of new job, blue shirt and tan pants, leftovers for lunch, early mornings, ceiling fans, prayers for each moment, red ribbon to mark my place, to do list done, closet in order, cooking in my kitchen, Kyle's job, steel toed boots, empty buckets, books lining a shelf , leftovers in the fridge, evening breezes, late dinner, conversations in the shower, learning how to mother, a God who speaks and calms my heart, abundant rain, full night's sleep, being blessed in such tough economic times, this practice of patience (and it does take practice!), the opportunity to take my time, just that right shade of green, orange juice, ironing board project done!, study time, new job frustrations, wild baby girl wiggles, apple season!, finding my recipes, husband's better day, beginning to see the living room floor,internet, front porch dreaming, 1st home phone, free (or nearly free) baby stuff, the power of hanging a picture, clothes to iron, perfect almost fall days, cute little makeshipft curtains, real life (with al it's tattered edges), this journey to be anxious for nothing, this journey of marriage, talking it through, Sundrop and honey bun, finding my way through grief 15 years later, tree trimming, car washed, no car problems!, cushions for the swing, clean front porch, hot shower on achy muscles, getting our exercise, husband smiles, night time grocery runs, pancake syrup, my inability to cook pancakes without them falling apart

5 Minute Friday: In Real Life

2011-09-09T08:22:00.004-04:00

I'm back after more than a week internet-less...yes, we're moved and the internet signal is flowing freely! It feels good to be back and that is why I am linking up with Lisa-Jo once again for 5 minute Friday.

I need to do a little writing anyway...so here goes with my 5 minutes!

IN REAL LIFE

GO!

Life is not seamless. The bumps and tears around the edges are worse than the decades old wall paper in our rental house. These days I feel like my job is to smooth these edges and to sand them down with patience and attention to all the little details.

Baby girl is on the way as she reminds me with every kick and wiggle and that is one seam that seems to be bursting apart right now- literally and figuratively. As my belly grows so does my to do list and piled on top of moving and the husband's new job and life normalizing (or something like that...) here Stateside I often feel like I am drowning.

Real life...I feel like I am constantly reeling in life. Reeling it in to make sure that I'm still hanging in there. Reeling it in to make sure that my eyes are trained on the eternal rather than the stack of cardboard and unopened boxes on my living room floor. This is real life at it's messiest. The parts of real life that are both glorious and laborious and full of change- which is something I am admittedly not a fan of.

But it is real and it is life and in real life I want to admit (always) that I don't have it all together, but I'm working on being real in the midst of the "not having it all together". So as I bust at the seams of real life I hope that I am growing into someone who embraces the tears and ragged edges and makes something great out of all this real life.

Right Where I Am

2011-08-29T06:00:00.004-04:00

I'm back and trying to regroup- I'm going to let myself ease into all this again. Mainly because we are moving this week and my energy can only go so many directions these days between moving and baby growing.

This journey between 2 continents has left me weary. But our road tripping and life lived topsy turvy in the in between seems to be coming to a major slow down. In this unstable economy a job for my husband has seemingly dropped from the sky and a home for us (complete with running water and 24 hr. electricity!) to make a life in is in the works.

My mind feels like it goes whirring away 24/7. It is a perpetual motion machine powered by hope and prodded along by a baseline of anxiety. But in the midst of it I hear my Savior, speaking gently, words that my wandering heart needs to remember, "You haven't made it home yet." I dare not trust this transient life with its here today gone tomorrow stability. It has failed me time and again. Rather I hush my whirring mind with the Word and praise the Living Word for every step He has ordained along the way.

There is so much to be grateful for these days. I have had a year long lesson in learning to "be content with such things as you have" and finding God's grace right where I am, no matter what that means. The blinders of fear and anxiety want to crowd joy out of my heart and mind. We have to choose gratitude when our natural inclination is towards fear and anxiety. It isn't easy, but the joy that comes with it is so worth it.

Join me in the endless counting!

#1610-#1672
sand and surf, six year old girl who loves the beach, 2nd interview finished, the waiting (might we trust You more?), sunscreen, baby bathing suits, hippos for baby girl, floppy earred bunny, Mimi and Poppi's love, evening beach walks, finding joy in the in between, cousins who bring donuts, late night chats about a God who does big things, South Carolina coast to North Carolina mountains, travel safety, ice cream on the road, strong kicks, cooler temperatures, gorgeous green hills, husband resting peaceful by my side, playing poolside, a few days of pure fun, this uncertain waiting (we know that You are at work Lord.), tons of pillows, Kayla laughter, car packed full (even if it does drive Kyle crazy), maternity clothes for my expanding self, a mother that I wish was here, road trips, riding beside the man I love, peaceful silence, car sing alongs, baby names, giant banans won by the manliest man I know, lazy river, free cookies, quiet mornings, fluffy white dogs, a sweet, honest older friend, the ladies at the center (all smiles and hugs), heaps of baby clothes, baby Jed smiles, little girl wagon rides and giggles, fire with dear friends, Barrie's easy jokes, fish farmin', rolling hills in Marion, a window into the future, long fingernails (polished for the first time in years!), normal prenatal checkups, first days of first grade, days of rest, hurricane sky on fire, shelter from the storm, a God who abundantly, without fail meets our greatest needs, a house to make a home, border and wallpaper (loosely grateful), a room for baby girl, a retreat for me and Kyle, washer and dryer included, all it takes to move, phone calls to Grandma

Takin' a Break

2011-08-08T06:00:00.001-04:00

So, most of you who read my blog know that I have been hanging by a thin thread these last few months; Liberia, home, pregnancy, waiting on the husband to return, in between homes, jobs, family stresses...and the list could continue. All is grace and God has been abundantly good, but I'm kind of at the point that I need to regroup a bit. I've blogged with a moderate bit of consistency, but with a less than moderate amount of depth and content. At least not the depth and content that I want.

Sooooooooo, what am I trying to say?

I'm going on vacation. Yep, for the next two weeks I'm letting myself off of the blogging hook and plan to return in 2 1/2-3 weeks. I might post some pictures so that you don't miss out on the everyday flow of grace, but in general it will be a bloggy break.

When I return you can expect some new stuff here on the blog. Get excited!

A few things to look for:

-a series on the search for a church based off of past experience and our present endeavors
-a play by play on the writing of my first e-book (yes, it is happening, thanks for encouraging me to this point!)
-shots from fail proof camera which means more photos from this self proclaimed terrible photographer
-more honest words from my crazy life
-more ways that you can be a part of God's work in your community and around the world.

Whew, I'm tired already...I also plan to have a baby in December...oh.gosh.am.I.crazy.

I'm excited! I hope you are!

See you soon! (Feel free to leave lots of love for me and baby girl over the next couple of weeks!)

5 Minute Friday: Whole

2011-08-05T11:20:00.005-04:00

It's Friday which means the gypsy mama is offering up another prompt for Five Minute Friday.

So here goes:
This week: WHOLE

GO!

It would take years and a few hundred cozy cups of coffee for me to recount all the ways that God has broken apart, reconfigured and made whole my life in these past 6 years. In a world where sin has broken things apart at the seams it is an everyday miracle that anything can be made whole. A miracle that a life can be made whole out of the shattered pieces. My life has become an everyday miracle. A miracle of grace that my Maker paints in broad brush strokes across the canvas of my life. Each day the whole picture becomes clearer- brilliant shades of grace, deep hues of the hurt places healed and running deep, soaring hues of life and love painted as a reminder of the miracle that is a God who heals up, makes beautiful and yes, makes whole.

STOP!

Weaving Grace

2011-08-01T06:00:00.000-04:00

Days roll by and grace piles big and I ponder in my heart how to pass down this discipline of thanks to you. How do I pass down something I barely know how to do? How do I take my own ungrateful heart and turn it into a song of faith and grace that you can sing your own words to?

You showed off this past week. Kicking and wiggling and making things hard for the sonographer. You are definitely our child. All 9oz. of kicks, wiggles and giggles. Your daddy says that he knew you were a little lady months ago. The pictures only confirmed it for him. Good thing, because he was determined to buy you a 36 piece, 100 year old tea set in France. I lugged it home, across the Atlantic, murmuring about how you better be a girl because there is an equation that I worked out:

Limoge porcelain + 1 train ride + several subway rides + 2 plane rides + a lot of walking = mama losing her mind.

Truth is I'd do it all again. Every bit of the lugging and bubble wrapped headache would be done with joy for you little girl. God loves us like that. He loves us enough to do the hard stuff. He longs to give us gifts not easily carried by our weak arms. I want you to feel that in your little bones. That you are loved by mama and daddy, but more than that you are loved by God.

A God who sees you.
A God who knows you.
A God who made you.

I hope that will turn your heart to thanksgiving. I hope that daily rhythm in our home will teach you to dance to grace. I pray that your heart and eyes will be more open to grace than my own weak heart and eyes. I hope you will see it everywhere. I hope you will be an artist of thanks weaving it into the very fabric of your daily life.

Today I weave a few more words of thanks to a God worthy of all my praise. Won't you join the dance?

#1557-#1576

perfect ultrasound pics, baby girl wiggling, kitty cat's coming around, late night Happy Meals, midnight airport runs, blue eyed giggly niece, a steady husband, job potential, a life centered on the Gospel, friends having little boys, beach in a week!, a God who NEVER changes, steak, strong job possibility (it got even stronger as the week progressed!), struggling to find the mama in me, trust in God and not government, visits to family without drama, beach towels, dancing to the rhythm of daily grace

5 Minute Friday: Still

2011-07-29T11:13:00.004-04:00

Back again to link up with the gypsy mama (today over at incourage) for Five Minute Friday...

Today's prompt: STILL

Ready...
Set...
GO!

August 1st inches ever closer which means 13 months straight of homeless wandering between North Carolina, Canada, Europe and West Africa. Thirteen months and we're still wandering. Still wandering between callings, homes, jobs and some version of normal. We're still in between and it still requires every ounce of me to trust that God has not left us.

Still...

In this in between I have found a certain stillness. A stillness that is found in just allowing God to unravel this story in His timing and by His grace. A stillness that takes over when our desperate grasping for the things we think we need is willingly released. We rest confident, more confident than 13 months ago, in His grace that has still never failed us.

Still we trust.
Still we walk.
Still we believe that God is still at the helm.

Witnesses to the Mystery

2011-07-25T07:00:00.000-04:00

She enters the back door of the sanctuary, white dress and covered head. This is the day they have been waiting for. Through tears and a year filled with uncertainty and sickness. Her head wound tight with a veil fitted just for her. The doctor cleared her just a couple weeks ago. Her body that had deceived her was clean and free of disease.

So when she sweeps on her daddy’s arm past all the crowd and to her beloved’s side we all know the road ending at that pew lined church aisle has been a long one.

We weep.

We rejoice.

God has made whole all the broken parts and in so doing has knit two hearts together into one whole.

Paul said the mystery would be profound. A mystery for the ages that challenges modern ideas and captures the hearts of those that will allow themselves to be lost in grace. A mystery that meant so much more than just a man and a woman vowing vows and making promises. No, it meant mountains moving and a lover coming for his bride, His perfect spotless bride.

But she wasn’t always so.

Once disease riddled her body. Riddled it right through with pain, suffering and sin. She chose other lovers and gave herself away time and time again for cheap thrills and temporary fixes. But because of His great love He purchased her, cleansed her, and made her His own.

These promises are rich and we are witnesses to the promise.

Witnesses to the mystery.

Witnesses to grace.

"Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh." This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. Ephesians 5:31-32

This week I’ve witnessed grace and counted it out to share!

#1531-#1556

anticipations, stainless steel appliances, ice, the joy of having him home, sweet sleep next to the one I love, easy shopping trips, love lavished at church, Burmese families, Sunday afternoon naps, African clothes, getting married cancer-free (Congratulations Jon and Katelyn!), shiny new care (new to us!), living debt free, baby whomping around (and we both felt it!), job interviews, little boy struggles, princess dress and full makeup, spaghetti pie with the siblings, easy HVAC repairs (schwew!), finding ways to help are usually ways to pray, Hoover family back together, safe plane rides to SoCal, this hunger to trust deep, body pillows, profound mysteries

A Full Pantry

2011-07-18T06:00:00.000-04:00

A year ago we wondered how it would all stretch...

We stared at our 5 loaves and 2 fishes, eye brows raised and hearts hungry for a miracle.
It was not enough to feed us or carry us through the journey ahead.

It just wasn't enough.
But is there ever enough for the faithless?

A year later and we are counting the overflow. Counting the 12 baskets of leftovers. Never doubt how God will provide the bread and wine of daily life. Abundance is the love language of God. Abundance is the way he showers His children with love. Abundance is how He fills empty souls with the bread of life.

But often I don't hang around in His presence long enough to experience abundance. I run away from the precipice of faith and content myself with a meager pantry. A pantry empty in need of a supernatural filling.

A year of being homeless and finding our home in an abundant God. Our bellies have been filled by faith. Filled by faith by a God who promises that in Him we will hunger and thirst no more.

#1530 on an endless list Husband home and a heart so full

Five Minute Friday: Loss

2011-07-15T10:25:00.003-04:00

Linking up for 5 minute Friday with the gypsy mama.

The idea: Write for 5 minutes and don't worry if it ain't (yes, I'm from the South) perfect.

This week's topic: LOSS

A word that has seared my heart deep; loss. I was the girl living with loss, the lost girl. The one marked by the loss of both of her parents. Loss that left holes and put me on a journey seeking how to be whole, really whole in a world so broken. I have known loss and I have doubted God's goodness, but that same doubt and that same loss has opened my eyes to the ways God fills all that is empty.

I gaze up an airport escalator and strain to see a familiar face. Finally he appears and my hungry heart fills full to the brim. Husband, family, baby growing. From loss God has given so much. Restored so much. What was lost has been reconfigured and found to be whole, different, but whole nonetheless.

Years later I find that loss can make room for new life.

Home Grown Life

2011-07-11T09:29:00.004-04:00

Life growing full underneath my skin. Life springing up from the ground in glorious shades of green, blue and yellow. Life celebrated with birthday cake sticky and sweet. Life given by the Giver of life and all good gifts.

Life is not perfect, but it is a gift. A glorious gift that comes wrapped in the everyday. A glorious gift that needs only to be unwrapped with gratitude to the Giver.

#1467-#1529

jeep rides with my brother, nieces who miss me, lazy afternoon, heartburn (and baby beneath my heart), thunder cats, 9 days, dinner with the family, talking with mom, baby blankets, mid-day chats across the sea, straws as cat toys, running in the rain, ice cream and cookies, sticky fingers, interpretive dance (as presented by a 4 and a 6 yr. old, errands, computers in the bookstore, Poppi-made dinner, gifts from husbands so far away, camera of my dreams, feeling creative, Grace to give, long naps, a few farmers, kitty cat photo shoots, lists, creativity, time to think, light at the end of the tunnel, being grate-full, homemade tea, light rain and distant thunder, smell of rain, nectarines, dishwashers, rustling pines, Burt's Bees clearance, my big brother's Birthday, chocolate cake for breakfast, little birdie rattles, baby's 1st onesies, fabric swatches, breakfast for dinner

Five Minute Friday: Grateful

2011-07-08T08:49:00.002-04:00

Linking up with the gypsy mama for another 5 minute Friday. The idea? Write for 5 minutes, no editing, just write and don't worry if it is just right!

This weeks topic: Grateful

GO:

This past year and a half gratitude has woven its way into the nooks in crannies of my everyday life. It's woven itself in unexpected ways and sometimes those nooks and crannies have been deep leaving me straining to see the grace.

Standing in the middle of a clinic in Liberia as a woman breathes heavy and pushes hard to bring life into this world. Grateful that this time the baby is healthy and she is safe. Flying home on iron wings, alone but full, to continue life on an uncertain path. I have been grateful for so much and it has left me full.

Full to be poured out.
Full to bring forth life.
Full to live life unafraid.
Full to know that my God always fills what is empty.

So I revel in a homecoming and in the fullest blessings of this life.
Faith
Hope
Love.

Full so full...so very very grate-full.

STOP

Peace is a Person

2011-07-04T07:00:00.001-04:00

Sometimes…if we allow our eyes to open wide enough and our hearts to rest deep enough in Jesus we start to see how His image is being reflected in the moment. I’ve been in a strange place lately. In between so much of life; jobs, homes, stability, and on top of all that pregnant with my first kiddo and awaiting my husband’s return home. So it was a strange peace that I experienced while listening to the Sunday sermon at my brother’s church.

The sermon was pulled straight from Mark’s Gospel, a familiar passage telling the story of disciples, crashing waves and their sleeping Savior. Jesus, seemingly unaffected by the the storm around him leading His disciples to think he didn’t care about their fears. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The only difference between Jesus (besides the whole Son of God thing!) and the disciples is that He was fully confident in who He was. Jesus, had no doubt that the storm would not touch them when He commanded the sea’s obedience.

And it occurs to me during the sermon that the disciples didn’t have to be afraid.

They had Jesus in the boat and if only they had fully embraced His power and love then they wouldn’t have been doubtful of His care. They would have only needed to acknowledge with thankful hearts His ever present, be it sometimes unorthodox, care and provision. Even in the midst of a storm.

I pray for courage to see Jesus for who He is. I long to lay aside fear and anxiety in exchange for taking a nap in a rocking boat nestled next to Jesus. In this place of in between, on my own rickety fishing boat of life, I am stepping out to believe that Jesus is all that He has said that He is and more. Peace is a person and His name is Jesus. I am believing Him to be a God who calms waves of fear in the sea of my heart. A God who carries me safely to the other side of this life no matter what waters we encounter.

Today, I take hold of Jesus for all he is worth and I count grace and rest deep in who His Word says He is. The God-man who calmed the sea and quells the storms of this life with His abundant mercy.

#1427-#1464

blackberry picking (dangerous business), communion of saints, rolly poley groundhogs, outdoor pool, goggles, smelly boy feet, terrible movies, 3 days of peace, music and love, garden fresh cucumber, baby heartbeat from my own belly, dinner made with my own hands, mother-in-love conversations, joy tears, double chocolate muffins, snuggling with Aunt Gracie (new generation discovers that joy), an aunt with enough peace and patience for 3 generations, Grandma., baby dolls fed and put to bed, a few more ripe blackberries, fresh cut lemon balm, soap success (DIY success!), restful massage (hip relief!), egg salad, chipped toenail polish, less than two weeks!, bequeathed tie dye dresses, a decent night’s rest, car maybe?, lost balloons, potatoes to pull, July already, cut sunflowers, long chats, counting faithfulness, cool evenings, sneaky 4 year olds, gas stations, tennis balls, popcorn and a “movie”, plastic shovel and hoe

5 Minute Friday: Welcome

2011-07-01T14:05:00.004-04:00

I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo from The Gypsy Mama for another 5 minute Friday. This weeks prompt: Welcome.

Wanna hear it? Here it GO!

6 weeks will have passed by the time I throw my arms around his neck. Six weeks of work, rest, planning and bulging bellies (that would be mine, not his!)...God said it's not good for man to be alone and as the 4 week mark clicks by I see that woman fares no better. So with two open arms I will welcome my best friend back to my heart (though really he never left) and my side.

His mom will be there with her latest crochet worked tucked into her purse. A mom whose son has been away from her sight in the depths of the Liberian bush for nearly a year. Her arms will open wide and her heart will open wider to her middle son, the one with the broad shoulders and beard, the one that she has learned to expect the unexpected from and to trust a God who is never surprised.

Together, side by side we, the two women that love him most will welcome him home...at last.

Garden Hoses of Grace

2011-06-27T07:00:00.000-04:00

Bathing suit bottoms and water guns.

A recipe for a summer full of fun and giggles.

Bear feet racing across a deck and little fingers splashing in 5 inches of water. Only a six year old boy can feel like a stalwart knight with a tiny plastic water gun in hand. He fires off rounds at alarming rates and you better run and take cover from the streaming onslaught. But when Daddy opens up the water hose and pelts little boy with a mile long stream it is clear whose really in charge of this aquatic battle. I watch and laugh silly as little boy screams joy and baby sister giggles hard.

We are all children drowning in grace. And I feel my longing to give back. To return “fire” and bless God, but it comes out as a trickle. A slow trickle that sometimes stops all together, but God never stops lavishing his blessings. Like a fire hose spraying our lives wide open. We need only to lift our hands and take it all in.

Every drop.

Every grace.

Every day.

“In Him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace, which He has lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of His will, according to His purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him, thing in heaven and things on earth.” (Ephesians 1:8)

#1384 – #1426

homemade pesto, calls from K, PBS, 8:00am baking with Anna, hot tea and chocolate chips, parakeet a squawking, pots of soup simmering, banter, cuddly four year olds, blue eyes aglow, children learning the art of gratitude, soccer “games” on a summer night, the hunger to parent well, a night out, coffee and talk, secret birthday presents, afternoon nap, much to munch (spinach, HURRAH!), bags packed for home, sister-in-law birthdays, hammered out schedules, job interviews (Oh, the possibilities!), feeling free to go anywhere, KNOWING God knows exactly what He is doing, German Chocolate cake, discipline, lightning bugs captures, belly expanding, drool inducing naps, whiffle ball at summer dusk, kiddie pools, Burmese gifts, smiling postal workers, meat on sale, laughter and lounge singers, wild curls, little girl sniffles, bathing suits all day, watermelon (Oh, boy!), garden hoses

5 Minute Friday: Wonder

2011-06-25T10:16:00.001-04:00

The following post was meant to be posted yesterday, but my computer seemingly ate my post seconds before I hit publish. I slammed the computer shut- frustrated with the mess that West African computer viruses have made of my little netbook. This morning I opened my blog writer only to find that the situation wasn’t as dire as it seemed. Grace, grace…for all the small things (even an insignificant blog post!).

Let’s try this again, shall we?

I’m joining Lisa-Jo again for her 5 minute Friday link up. Enjoy 5 minutes of my stream of consciousness.

Wonder, it motivates the explorer in us all.

It motivates little hands to, wooden baseball bat in hand, whack a tree until the yellow jacket spied above (the one he was told to stay away from) plants a whopping sting above his right eye. Scream ensues and wonder is satiated.

Wonder, it’s why a “magic” trick involving an adult closing her eyes while you run out of the room to simulate a “disappearing” act can be just so funny!

It is wonder that we chase as children and wonder that we spend most of our adult lives trying to find our way back to. I’ve spent a lot of time in my adult life trying to appear hip and underwhelmed with the wonder-full moments of life only to find that letting wonder in leads to the fullest of lives.

When Earthly Fathers Fail

2011-06-19T07:00:00.001-04:00

I still feel the wooden door frame against my cheek as I watched my Daddy shave three day stubble from his face. I never remember him with facial hair. He was only ever smooth faced with a hint of Old Spice around the ears. I can see him on Christmas eve with his pressed, red, plaid shirt tucked into khaki pants- only a slight deviation from his regular blue collar and navy work pants. His hands were always nicked with the scars of a small motor repair man. Old Spice only masked the smell of grease- a scent that too this day brings back a flood of memories for me. February would roll around and I’d don my finest dress and he’d wear Sunday best to go to the circus. I”d oooohhh and ahhhhhh until my sno-cone stained face drooped onto my daddy’s shoulder tired.

We were a pair, the two of us, riding high in a shined up red Chevy pickup.

My mind is full of memories thick with images, smells and sounds even eighteen years later. I enjoyed my Daddy on this earth for eight years. Eight full years of laughter and life. His love was always strong, but his heart had been weak since birth. His life was a gift which meant so was mine. Losing him was like a cosmic shift for my little heart and the weight of that loss has shaped my life in a thousand different ways.

I know, for a lot of us, our relationships with our fathers has shaped so much of how we see God. They paint the outline of God for us, good or bad, and we spend the rest of our lives filling in the details. Many of us struggle with a hideous outline of fatherhood; harsh, distant, absent (for what ever reason that may be). We use this palate to draw from when we turn our hearts either toward or away from God. In the absence of my dad, my good, loving, kind dad, I had riches to pull from for my outline of my Heavenly Father.

Eighteen years after the death of my father I find myself nearly always starting my prayers with “Father” because ultimately God used my loss to draw me to Himself, up into his Father’s lap, in a way that I don’t think I would have experienced otherwise. What I found, in the midst of trying to draw my outline of God, is that God tells us over and over again who He is. He knows that in this world our outlines of Him will be skewed at best and He desperately wants us to know that He is not a Father who forsakes.

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

He hasn’t.

Psalm 27:10

For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the LORD will take me in.

Five Minute Friday: Home

2011-06-17T09:35:00.001-04:00

Pregnant and homeless.

Yeah, that’s me. Husband 3,000 miles away on West African shores. Me, cuddled in an old pink bathrobe on my Grandmother’s 100 year old couch.

At home, but homeless.

I came “home” nearly two weeks ago only to find what I knew was true that my childhood house long ago became just that; a house. My home is rooted in eternity, but my earthly home is rooted right next to my other half. Geologist, beard and all, protector, friend, and now father of my baby(ies).

They (whoever they are) say tritely, “Home is where the heart is” and if that is so my home is 3,000 miles away in the wetness of rainy season in Liberia. Home sounds so good right now, be it rickety shack or glaring mansion.

Home is anywhere my beloved is.

And all I can think is, isn’t that how God feels about us?

From Joyless to Joyful

2011-06-13T16:41:00.001-04:00

The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keeps out the joy.
Jim Rohn

I’ve always been a happy person, but I have to confess I’ve struggled towards joy.

Struggled, kicking and screaming, hands locked around the door frame being dragged towards joy. I thought joy was for those who hadn’t stared life’s deepest pains in the face and lived to tell about it. Happy, on any given day, but joyous? Don’t dilute yourself.

My version of happiness, transient pseudo-joy, was like holding my breath waiting for a bubble to burst. Waiting for all the life to drain out of life just like it had done to me as a child. I walked happy, but I lived joyless. J-O-Y, three letters that sent me mumbling angst. Three letters that I reserved for Christmas decorations and little else.

But aren’t we all just a little like Paul? Paul, the one who had to be blinded to see. Paul, whose journey unexpectedly brought him face to face with God and changed him irrevocably? I often feel like Paul on the Damascus road. Heart set against the things of God, but God ultimately breaks through and sets his barred heart free. That has been this journey of gratitude for me. A journey that makes me feel, like Saul turned Paul, that I need a name change to match my heart change.

By grace, I’ve found a way to enter into those bubble-might-burst-moments and live fully the joy that I am called to in Christ. Thomas Merton once wrote, “Be good, keep your feet dry, your eyes open, your heart at peace and your soul in the joy of Christ.” It has been the slow, methodical counting of the grace of everyday life that has allowed me to find my soul daily nestled in the joy of Christ.

Joy is for us all. Joy is especially for those of us who have plumbed the depths of hurt in this life. Sin has wrecked this world and stolen the joy out of each of our hearts and mouths. We, by grace, can reclaim that joy. We can stare down the enemy when we are washing dishes and swinging on porch swings and waiting in line at the funeral home to embrace a grieving family. We can refuse to give in to the enemies demands that we turn over joy by keeping joy on the tip of our tongue.

Count grace and find joy.

Find joy and you have found the heart of Christ.

#1293-#1315

bird whirly gigs in flight, bees a buzzin’, robin puffed up, trees rustle in wind, feelin’ stronger, sleeping past 6:00 am, new backpacks (to replace the broken), soapy water in the sink, peaceful cemeteries, time alone, comfortable clothes, unexpected phone calls, precious aunts, stories rich with history, gardenias fresh cut (is there a better scent in all the world?), Eastern NC BBQ, cream cheese (ahhhhh, pregnant woman cravings!), Grandma Faison’s chair getting new life (quite literally!), thunderstorm on parched earth, last days of kindergarten, early morning emails from across the Atlantic, this waiting, babies 1 1/2” long (prayerfully with all the parts in the right places!)

Planting Fresh Roots

2011-06-09T06:00:00.000-04:00

Even after I've unpacked all the bags and washed all the clothes in a real washer and dryer I find that Liberia is still hanging on to me. I slip my old brown, cotton skirt out of the drawer. The one with the bleach stains and the stretched waist from wearing it too many days in a row in the hot African sun. I slip it on over my only slightly bulging pregnant belly and though its been washed it still snags. One rogue grass seed has hung on across 3,000 miles and 3 weeks and made me a liar to U.S. customs. Sorry America it appears I've brought a real piece of Liberia back with me.

It pricks my leg and I search the seam to find the culprit and pull it out. Seed cupped in my hand. I know that much more than a single seed has traveled with me from Liberia. I'm sitting in the land of the pine and trying to process my time in the land of the palm and my head spins and my heart aches. 3,000 miles away my husband still wakes to the rhythm of Liberian life. He'll be winging his way home in a month, but for now we live an ocean apart. The rhythm of my life off-beat, stilted. My equilibrium off kilter and stuck somewhere between West Africa and the East coast of the United States. I'm dizzied by these changes.

I roll the grass seed between my fingers. I open the back door and feel the heat of a North Carolina summer.

I let the seed go.
Let it fly and fall to the ground.
I let it go.

Me, the rootless one, with heart heavy and hope high looking to plant fresh roots in the grace of everyday life.

2011-06-06T09:19:00.005-04:00

I stumble out of bed this first day back in the land of the pine. Rub weary eyes and open my journal full of grace. Page empty for a heart so full. God's grace has heaped big and covered over fear and worry and I can feel the shoulders loosening under the weight that is blessing. I page back through the Old Testament to read how David, the yet to be King, slung rocks at a giant and tumbled him to the ground. I've seen some giants fall in my day. I'm staring some in the face right this second. I click on my computer and surf over to my too-full-inbox that overflows with Birthday greetings and I find it buried within the emails that I have neglected for weeks now. A dear friend sends words of life to commemorate my first day of life. Tears stain cheeks and the heart beats in rhythm to the truth of each line.

He Giveth More Grace - Annie J. Flint | Anthony D. Moore

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father's full giving is only begun.

REFRAIN: His grace is sufficient for thee.

Rest, for the Lord is at hand.

The power of Christ is made perfect in weakness

He giveth more grace and He giveth again.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow'r has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!

Indeed He has given more grace.

(somewhere around #1200 on the endless list)

strong legs and feet to walk, piers stretching into the Atlantic, fresh doughnuts, seagulls (when they attack!), strolling with friends, coffee breaks, fresh tattoos (that look so cool), ordered in pizza, finding rest, big French meals, people watching, trains, planes and automobiles, Westminster abbey, stained glass, history hanging thick, angry eyed gargoyles, sparkling Eiffel Tower, endless hot water, plenty of energy, chocolate mousse, crepes that make a mess, thousand year old tapestries, 100 year old tea sets (and husbands hoping for a baby girl!), 10,000 crosses lined up perfect, children playing safe on a beach once a battlefield, French countryside, art stacked to the ceiling (who could look at it all?), Irishmen who love America, plane rides that force open untrusting hands, men who finish the work no matter how hard, family to greet me, cell phone calls from Liberia, bringing baby home, pine trees looming large, 100 year old tea sets intact, gifts heaped, pizza with grinning niece and nephew, chicken salad and vegetable soup (grandma just knew)

2011-05-23T04:31:00.004-04:00

I didn't stop counting this week...it's just that the blessings were too many to count. Our vacation has been like an avalanche of blessings that I'm digging out from underneath of.

Hot showers, steady plane rides, fluffy beds, French parks, new clothes, a husband's love...

all parts of the whole...

all parts of God's pouring out like rain of His abundant (and so undeserved) gifts...

Even with all my anxiety struggling and fear the gratitude has buoyed me up. Carried me over those fists-clenched-tight moments and into real faith and trust in a big, BIG, God. No, big words or grand stories to paint today. Only a humbled heart over the fact that God sees me and blesses me.

"For great is your steadfast love toward me..." Psalm 86:13a