When God tells you "He's got the moves like Jagger", it deserves a blog. Yes, yes it does. First off, I apologize for the one bad word you'll hear in this song. I am not a swearing advocate, though I unfortunately have been known to let one loose occasionally when I feel, well, out of control. (More on that later). I can't find an edited version, and so, in order to preserve my story and show you that God can show up anywhere--even in a Maroon 5 song, here it is.
The last week has been a whirlwind, I tell you. I would love to write all the details of just how crazy it has been, but I'll spare you. Let's just say this: Several months ago David tells me "I think God said we're going to move soon"---to which I so supportively responded, "Yeah, right. I'm pregnant." (P.S. This is not the appropriate way to respond when your husband says God told him something.) A few weeks later we found out that our next little love was a girl. This set in stone to us that, well, David just must have heard wrong because the girls could share a room if a third baby came along in the not so distant future. We decided to just resolve to stay put for the next who-knows-how-many years. And then New Years came and went, and we decided to clean out all the cluttery junk in our house. I so egotistically wrote a blog saying how glad I was that God's plan had us moving before we had kids, and a dog, and two new car payments. Riiiiiight. Enter God stage Left.
David's riding home with his carpooling friends from work. One of them lets David know that their friends are moving, and that, get this, we should buy their house. It's just around the corner from our house currently, and it just happens to be twice as big with all the amenities we'd need for a growing family, as well as housing guests. Not to mention, it would give us a bonus room and a studio for my creative endeavors. David looked at the house online but never told me (because I'm so supportive). Well, it just so happens that in the matter of a week, two people ask me if we're moving. "No way! Totally not on our radar." Well, then, David's friends remind him again of this lovely homestead. He decides to tell me this time. I, of course, react the same way. And then after a light spanking from my Daddy's paddle, I decide..."Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should be more open to this in case it is God." So, I told David we should take a look at it and just see what might be. (This is the better way to respond to your husband.)
So, our sweet realtor, Stacey, meets us there on Saturday. And not only do we like it, but she also emails us several other houses in the area that are also a similar price. All kinds of options we never even thought were available to us. Now mind you, we would not be thinking about upgrading except for two facts. Interest rates are at an all time low, and my dad has offered part of my inheritance to me early. As in right now.
I am feeling extremely blonde by this point.
How could I have been so stubborn and bullheaded? Oh, I know--because I hate being out of control. Even though I love the spontaneous, I still wanted my ducks in a row for the birth of this new one. Last time, Ella's 5 days of laboring birth almost threw me into a nervous breakdown. When I got my epidural, life was grand---and the rest was joy-filled. Now that the next little one is on its way, I just assumed my ducks would line up for her perfect entry because I had already learned from the last time. So, this whole "possible" moving escapade has sent me into a talespin that results in bad moods, snappy comebacks, the blame game, and everyone's favorite--severe victim mentality. Not to mention, my brother calls me this morning and says "I had this dream about you that you should pray about. I never have dreams, so I needed to call you. You were digging this big long metal bar out from under our house growing up (in real life, this is where my inheritance money is coming from). Dad called me and said you died. You slipped and got hit in the head. I ran over to try and figure out what happened." Well, thanks.
I realize that death in dreams does not necessarily represent dying in the natural, but it does often represent dying to self, to my will, to my desires, to my sense of control. For me, moving is like one of the worst experiences ever. It reminds me of a time in my life where my stuff was physically thrown all over the place, I had no secure house that was "mine", and therefore, I felt displaced and totally out of it. I hated it.
And now, as the prospect of trying to sell a house and buy a house and have a baby and take care of a toddler and her big dog all rise to the surface---I have officially freaked out. I'll take my epidural now, please. (That last birth did teach me something.)
And yet, in the midst of this whole housing process, you know what God's been doing in my life? He's been having this pregnant lady dance--and teach dance. Another word for dance? Movement or To Move. In fact, He just had me dying laughing the other day over a youtube video of a 40 week pregnant gal dancing herself into labor. Really, God? You are just cracking yourself up right about now, aren't you? Just lining my ducks in a row the way YOU want them.
And then what does He tell me in the car today? As this song so coincidentally starts playing on the radio? "Hey Sarah, I've got the moves like Jagger. Chuckle. Chuckle. Chuckle."
Maybe it's hard
When you feel like you're broken and scarred
Nothing feels right
But when you're with me
I'll make you believe
That I've got the key
Oh
So get in the car
We can ride it
Wherever you want
Get inside it
And you want to steer
But I'm shifting gears
I'll take it from here (Oh! Yeah yeah!)
And it goes like this (Uh)
I mean, really, when God tells you He'll show you all the moves like Jagger, you'll laugh. And then you'll start to relax--and remember Who really is in control. And then comes the process of letting go...
Funny thing is, yesterday (previous to my brother's dream), I decided to google what the name Stacey means. You know, this realtor who would be helping us move? And you'll never believe what her name means--"Resurrection". It ain't so bad dying when you know Who will bring you back to Life.
I'll keep you posted....
Monday, January 30, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Kids are Prophetic.
Having just blogged about living in the Now mixing with Dreaming Big for the future, I just happened to catch my Ella Junebug in the act. A few weeks ago, I wrote about her new sister to be and how her name means "Light". I shared about how our birthing our children is a prophetic symbol of what God is also birthing in us. My sweet Ella June is our "Beautiful Queen", her first name is the female version of "Who is like God".
Since her birth, I have seen a rise in women in ministry. They're making their dreams a reality and stepping into places of authority. Women have the power to change things! I've also seen this in my own life as I've mothered my firstborn.
And to take it a step further this morning, she shows up like this.
My Homecoming Queen Scepter, Ballet Shoes, Elmo, and her dog. Since her birth, in many ways I've come "home" to myself. I've been transforming as God has taken me from ashes to glory, pauper to princess. (Did I mention the name, Sarah means Princess or The Royal Daughter?) I've also seen Him birth my Voice Over career in the marketplace through commercials as well as with puppets (Elmo). Tonight, I'm teaching a dance class that has been inspired by how God has healed me and brought restoration to me through movement. And, Howie, well--who doesn't love Howie? But really, I finished writing my first children's book starring, you guessed it, Howie and Ella.
God is so good to let us in on the details. He is taking us step by step, always moving us forward into our divine design. And, children, are indeed a blessing from the Lord.
For you mamas--especially those currently with little ones--how are your kids ministering to you in the midst of diaper changes and midnight feedings? I would LOVE to hear about it!
Happy Friday!!
Since her birth, I have seen a rise in women in ministry. They're making their dreams a reality and stepping into places of authority. Women have the power to change things! I've also seen this in my own life as I've mothered my firstborn.
And to take it a step further this morning, she shows up like this.
My Homecoming Queen Scepter, Ballet Shoes, Elmo, and her dog. Since her birth, in many ways I've come "home" to myself. I've been transforming as God has taken me from ashes to glory, pauper to princess. (Did I mention the name, Sarah means Princess or The Royal Daughter?) I've also seen Him birth my Voice Over career in the marketplace through commercials as well as with puppets (Elmo). Tonight, I'm teaching a dance class that has been inspired by how God has healed me and brought restoration to me through movement. And, Howie, well--who doesn't love Howie? But really, I finished writing my first children's book starring, you guessed it, Howie and Ella.
God is so good to let us in on the details. He is taking us step by step, always moving us forward into our divine design. And, children, are indeed a blessing from the Lord.
For you mamas--especially those currently with little ones--how are your kids ministering to you in the midst of diaper changes and midnight feedings? I would LOVE to hear about it!
Happy Friday!!
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
More.
Ella has these gummy vitamins that she absolutely LOVES. She's barely had any candy, so aside from fruit, receiving these "treats" is one of her most favorite times of the day. After she finished her lunch yesterday, I said "Ella. Want a vitamin?" to which she smiled big and started excitedly wiggling in her seat. I tore the gummy bear in half and set it in her hand. She hurriedly accepted it and quickly whipped out her sign language for "More". She knows that she will receive the other half, but I always have to remind her to "chew, chew, chew" what she has in her mouth first.
Her childlike faith already knows how to "open her mouth wide and let it be filled with good things" (Psalm 81:10), and she's excited about the prospect of getting "more" of that gummy goodness (which is actually wonderfully healthy for her!). And, yet, as her mama, I also have to remind her to eat up what she currently has in order to get more.
Great lesson, isn't it? I'm a visionary by nature. I automatically dream big and see how excitedly great my belly could feel when I envision God doing something crazily huge and unexpected. I root for underdogs. I love when the young David's of the family become King. I just naturally have a heart for the marginalized. I once bought the ugliest Beta fish in the whole pet store because I knew that no kid was going to pick him, and so I was gonna love him good. It's just how I am.
And in the midst of being a visionary and dreaming big, I am so glad that I have had a Father who has been wise enough to have me chew everything in my mouth before giving me "more". The first time "around", I grew up too fast. I took on too much, I was involved in everything, I didn't get adequate rest, I rarely had "quiet time" to myself. It wreaked havoc on my diet, on my energy level, on my physical well-being--not to mention my spiritual well-being. And now, though I am still mostly extroverted, my introvert side has steadily been creeping up to a matching pace. I need down time, chewing time if you will.
I like to call my chewing time: Living in the Now.
It's the perfect complement to Dreaming Big. Together, they're like an old couple so deeply in love after 50 years of marriage. I believe that deep down, everyone wants that.
Being fully in love for the long haul.
That's what 2012 feels like for me. The de-cluttering of our "house" felt somewhat final. It's not that we would never have to spring clean again, there is always going to be maintenance. But there is a sense that something has shifted, and life is really here. It's not that it wasn't here before, but there have been obstactles in my way that have prevented me from seeing that it was available. Some were my fault, some were the decisions of others, and some were just a measure of timing. It's just the reality of being a human being. And yet, something in the air has been cleared in order for me to take my "Living in the Now" much more deliberately. I believe this is God. This is His grace and His goodness. Though He never wavers in His love for us, He has created times and seasons. I believe He enjoys the hot sun in the summer and also the blustery cold of winter. He loves being with us to celebrate birthdays, to open presents on Christmas, and to relax with us on the Sabbath. He also loves our seasons that feel somewhat dry and desert-like (and even flat out desperate) because those seasons remind us to lean on Him--that only His grace is sufficient in our weakness and that only He can provide. He is the Dad. We are the kids.
Living in the Now also reminds me of my namesake, Sarah. She was promised a child when she was well past child-bearing years. Her only job was to accept the word and believe that God would do what He said He would. I imagine that her faith grew as her belly did. She probably gained patience and longsuffering and strength in the midst of her 9 months of pregnancy. She did not have ultrasounds like we do, she probably couldn't often see the progress (as sometimes we don't), and yet when that baby started to kick and move in her belly--she knew it was real. There was a turning point. A sobering realization that what He said He would do was really happening, and all the years of barrenness had been shaping her and leading her to be able to enjoy the fruit of her womb in the purest and the most humbling of forms. She knew that God had been faithful. All she did was believe and agree (after she laughed out of disbelief first--ha ha--don't we all?).
And so, as I feel my spunky little one currently having a dance party in my belly, it's a reminder to me. Live fully in it. Chew every bite. Taste and see that God is good.
Soak it up. Laugh really loud. Smile really big.
And on those days when a storm comes through or when the unexpected trips me up, or my dreaming big gets tainted by selfishness, when I've forgotten how to live in the Now, and hopelessness starts to creep in---I'll just cry really good. Get frustrated, angry, sad, and apologize if needed. And then I'll remind myself Who is in charge. I'll remind myself of the beauty of patience and perseverance and faith. I'll remind myself that the God who is in charge of my dreams is bigger than the dream itself. He is the dream come true. And I have the joy of living in Him now.
It's all about our perspective.
And when He graciously shows us how to balance the two, living in the Now and dreaming for the future--life gets good. Like really, really good. It's full of peace and full of promise. It's just plain full.
Speaking of, I just got a text message from my hubby. You know what it said? "Marrying you was the greatest thing I ever did. Ever."
That's what I'm talking about. We're in love for the long haul.
Enjoy your Now as His big dreams for you become reality....
Her childlike faith already knows how to "open her mouth wide and let it be filled with good things" (Psalm 81:10), and she's excited about the prospect of getting "more" of that gummy goodness (which is actually wonderfully healthy for her!). And, yet, as her mama, I also have to remind her to eat up what she currently has in order to get more.
Great lesson, isn't it? I'm a visionary by nature. I automatically dream big and see how excitedly great my belly could feel when I envision God doing something crazily huge and unexpected. I root for underdogs. I love when the young David's of the family become King. I just naturally have a heart for the marginalized. I once bought the ugliest Beta fish in the whole pet store because I knew that no kid was going to pick him, and so I was gonna love him good. It's just how I am.
And in the midst of being a visionary and dreaming big, I am so glad that I have had a Father who has been wise enough to have me chew everything in my mouth before giving me "more". The first time "around", I grew up too fast. I took on too much, I was involved in everything, I didn't get adequate rest, I rarely had "quiet time" to myself. It wreaked havoc on my diet, on my energy level, on my physical well-being--not to mention my spiritual well-being. And now, though I am still mostly extroverted, my introvert side has steadily been creeping up to a matching pace. I need down time, chewing time if you will.
I like to call my chewing time: Living in the Now.
It's the perfect complement to Dreaming Big. Together, they're like an old couple so deeply in love after 50 years of marriage. I believe that deep down, everyone wants that.
Being fully in love for the long haul.
That's what 2012 feels like for me. The de-cluttering of our "house" felt somewhat final. It's not that we would never have to spring clean again, there is always going to be maintenance. But there is a sense that something has shifted, and life is really here. It's not that it wasn't here before, but there have been obstactles in my way that have prevented me from seeing that it was available. Some were my fault, some were the decisions of others, and some were just a measure of timing. It's just the reality of being a human being. And yet, something in the air has been cleared in order for me to take my "Living in the Now" much more deliberately. I believe this is God. This is His grace and His goodness. Though He never wavers in His love for us, He has created times and seasons. I believe He enjoys the hot sun in the summer and also the blustery cold of winter. He loves being with us to celebrate birthdays, to open presents on Christmas, and to relax with us on the Sabbath. He also loves our seasons that feel somewhat dry and desert-like (and even flat out desperate) because those seasons remind us to lean on Him--that only His grace is sufficient in our weakness and that only He can provide. He is the Dad. We are the kids.
Living in the Now also reminds me of my namesake, Sarah. She was promised a child when she was well past child-bearing years. Her only job was to accept the word and believe that God would do what He said He would. I imagine that her faith grew as her belly did. She probably gained patience and longsuffering and strength in the midst of her 9 months of pregnancy. She did not have ultrasounds like we do, she probably couldn't often see the progress (as sometimes we don't), and yet when that baby started to kick and move in her belly--she knew it was real. There was a turning point. A sobering realization that what He said He would do was really happening, and all the years of barrenness had been shaping her and leading her to be able to enjoy the fruit of her womb in the purest and the most humbling of forms. She knew that God had been faithful. All she did was believe and agree (after she laughed out of disbelief first--ha ha--don't we all?).
And so, as I feel my spunky little one currently having a dance party in my belly, it's a reminder to me. Live fully in it. Chew every bite. Taste and see that God is good.
Soak it up. Laugh really loud. Smile really big.
And on those days when a storm comes through or when the unexpected trips me up, or my dreaming big gets tainted by selfishness, when I've forgotten how to live in the Now, and hopelessness starts to creep in---I'll just cry really good. Get frustrated, angry, sad, and apologize if needed. And then I'll remind myself Who is in charge. I'll remind myself of the beauty of patience and perseverance and faith. I'll remind myself that the God who is in charge of my dreams is bigger than the dream itself. He is the dream come true. And I have the joy of living in Him now.
It's all about our perspective.
And when He graciously shows us how to balance the two, living in the Now and dreaming for the future--life gets good. Like really, really good. It's full of peace and full of promise. It's just plain full.
Speaking of, I just got a text message from my hubby. You know what it said? "Marrying you was the greatest thing I ever did. Ever."
That's what I'm talking about. We're in love for the long haul.
Enjoy your Now as His big dreams for you become reality....
Monday, January 23, 2012
Full.
We had a storm last night. A tornado warning, in fact. Usually the hubs and I are not great about waking up to thunderstorms, but this one had us on alert. David had been watching the weather channel throughout the evening, and we were prepared for probably having to wake up in the wee hours of the morning to keep an eye on things. We both woke up around 1:30am and decided it was time to get Ella out of her crib and to head downstairs.
The wind was intensifying quickly.
I love blizzards (as long as I don't have to go anywhere), I enjoy a good thunderstorm, and I even enjoy the drama of hail or sleet, but tornadoes--don't particularly like 'em.
Perhaps it's the unpredictable and uncontrollable nature of those beastly storms (or in this case--storm warnings) that keep me on my toes. All I know to do during tornado warnings is pray.
And, just perhaps, that is the point.
We sat downstairs cuddled up in a blanket, Ella resting deep into the coziness of her Daddy's chest. And before we knew it, it had passed. For us, there was no destruction and no damage--just the reality that life can be a fleeting moment.
We headed back upstairs in an attempt to fall asleep. Within an hour, David had conked out. I could see Ella's eyes open in her video monitor but she was lying as still as can be--resting even though awake. My mind was reeling, in a good way. I was pondering and praying and sweetly exchanging conversation with God. So many ideas and thoughts and purposes kept being deposited into my spirit. I knew I had to write them down.
I didn't want to forget.
So, I got out of bed and made some waffles (I'm pregnant, remember?). I cuddled up with a hot cup of tea, and I made my spirit available to be with Him.
And He met me.
I realize that some people may be somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of God being intimate. And yet, the Bible is full of stories where God so beautifully and romantically met people exactly where there were. Full of heartbreak. Full of joy. Full of questions. Concerns. Dreams. Plans.
Last week was one of those weeks for me. God kept speaking to me in the night. Dream after dream. He was tuning my ear to hear Him, He was answering questions I had, He was speaking to the 5 year old me. Re-opening wells where drought had set it. Lovingly whispering to the deepest parts of my soul, reminding me of who He is, and who I am. Reminding me of my destiny.
Last night continued the journey. He poured out ideas and purpose and confidence. He filled my cup---to overflowing. The secrets I had been searching for...well, He provided the treasure map. And it wasn't only for me, it was for anyone who was hungry. Who was humble. Who was willing to take steps forward--no matter the brokenness or the pain or the hindrances at hand. It was for the people who had been waiting for answers.
And in that moment, so many life challenges became so very fruitful. The days spent in Egypt have already started to grow strangely dim. As I have learned to open wide my mouth, He has indeed been filling it with good things (Psalm 81:10). We never suffer in vain. God does not waste hurt--instead He pays us back 7 fold. And as we submit whatever we are to Him, whatever strengths and whatever weaknesses, He meets us. And our destiny unfolds.
I was driving home from a sweet lunch date with my huh-knee today. I picked him up at the Lifeway store on the corner of Broadway. You know the place. I sat and waited for him to meet me. He came out to the car, gave us each a kiss--and we proceeded to eat big burgers for lunch. In case you need reminding, read HERE. On my way home, my mouth and belly full of good things, I realized I was following a Buick Rendezvous. As soon as I noticed it, I immediately thought of Ronald Reagan's quote which is in the stockpile of notecards for my book in progress: "You and I have a rendezvous with destiny." In the matter of two seconds, a white truck passed us by with a license plate full of Hope. The first two numbers?
44.
"For it was I, the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it with good things." Psalm 81:10
"Taste and see that the Lord is good; His love endures forever." Psalm 34:8
I would love to hear how you are rendezvous-ing with destiny.....
The wind was intensifying quickly.
I love blizzards (as long as I don't have to go anywhere), I enjoy a good thunderstorm, and I even enjoy the drama of hail or sleet, but tornadoes--don't particularly like 'em.
Perhaps it's the unpredictable and uncontrollable nature of those beastly storms (or in this case--storm warnings) that keep me on my toes. All I know to do during tornado warnings is pray.
And, just perhaps, that is the point.
We sat downstairs cuddled up in a blanket, Ella resting deep into the coziness of her Daddy's chest. And before we knew it, it had passed. For us, there was no destruction and no damage--just the reality that life can be a fleeting moment.
We headed back upstairs in an attempt to fall asleep. Within an hour, David had conked out. I could see Ella's eyes open in her video monitor but she was lying as still as can be--resting even though awake. My mind was reeling, in a good way. I was pondering and praying and sweetly exchanging conversation with God. So many ideas and thoughts and purposes kept being deposited into my spirit. I knew I had to write them down.
I didn't want to forget.
So, I got out of bed and made some waffles (I'm pregnant, remember?). I cuddled up with a hot cup of tea, and I made my spirit available to be with Him.
And He met me.
I realize that some people may be somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of God being intimate. And yet, the Bible is full of stories where God so beautifully and romantically met people exactly where there were. Full of heartbreak. Full of joy. Full of questions. Concerns. Dreams. Plans.
Last week was one of those weeks for me. God kept speaking to me in the night. Dream after dream. He was tuning my ear to hear Him, He was answering questions I had, He was speaking to the 5 year old me. Re-opening wells where drought had set it. Lovingly whispering to the deepest parts of my soul, reminding me of who He is, and who I am. Reminding me of my destiny.
Last night continued the journey. He poured out ideas and purpose and confidence. He filled my cup---to overflowing. The secrets I had been searching for...well, He provided the treasure map. And it wasn't only for me, it was for anyone who was hungry. Who was humble. Who was willing to take steps forward--no matter the brokenness or the pain or the hindrances at hand. It was for the people who had been waiting for answers.
And in that moment, so many life challenges became so very fruitful. The days spent in Egypt have already started to grow strangely dim. As I have learned to open wide my mouth, He has indeed been filling it with good things (Psalm 81:10). We never suffer in vain. God does not waste hurt--instead He pays us back 7 fold. And as we submit whatever we are to Him, whatever strengths and whatever weaknesses, He meets us. And our destiny unfolds.
I was driving home from a sweet lunch date with my huh-knee today. I picked him up at the Lifeway store on the corner of Broadway. You know the place. I sat and waited for him to meet me. He came out to the car, gave us each a kiss--and we proceeded to eat big burgers for lunch. In case you need reminding, read HERE. On my way home, my mouth and belly full of good things, I realized I was following a Buick Rendezvous. As soon as I noticed it, I immediately thought of Ronald Reagan's quote which is in the stockpile of notecards for my book in progress: "You and I have a rendezvous with destiny." In the matter of two seconds, a white truck passed us by with a license plate full of Hope. The first two numbers?
44.
"For it was I, the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it with good things." Psalm 81:10
"Taste and see that the Lord is good; His love endures forever." Psalm 34:8
I would love to hear how you are rendezvous-ing with destiny.....
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Gratitude.
Before you start reading this blog, I must confess. I have made two "copies". This beautiful song playing, well, I just stole it from Kelle Hampton's blog. And I am so thankful to "steal" it because if it had not been for her blog, I'm not sure that I would have heard this refreshing and soulful tune. Second, the idea of writing a letter to my young self (you'll understand what I mean soon), came from Casey Weigand's post this morning. I was so inspired by it, I decided to do one for myself...and share it with you.
All that being said, I have had the kind of week that's only simile can be a comparison to climbing a mountain. It's been intense, exhausting, challenging, and yet sweetly satisfying. All of that clutter I've been working my way through, wow. It's been important. Not only has it helped me create order in my house, but it's been a prophetic act of creating order in my soul. And that order--though in process can be difficult to sort through--is so worth it when I start to see the puzzle pieces fit and when I start to see purpose in the fight.
I had a special moment on Monday morning. Ella was oversleeping, and I took advantage of the sun barely peeking through my windows to cuddle in my robe that barely covers my bulging belly, grab a cup of coffee, and pray. I got a sweet kiss from my hubby who headed out the door for work, and then I settled in. I looked around my living room. I glanced over at Howie who had taken up residence in "his spot" on the couch, his eyes closed so that I could only see the perfect St. Bernard mask covering his face, his lips hanging over my favorite throw pillow. Then, I heard the heartbeat of Ella's sound machine pulsing through her video monitor. I looked closely to see a diapered booty facing me, little hands curled up close to her face, and the faint rising and falling of her chest.
It was all beautifully glorious.
And in one moment, I was full of the most intense and sobering sense of gratitude. I didn't conjur up reasons to be thankful, they just hit me.
And I sat there, soaking in gratitude, crying for nearly ten minutes.
Scanning my living room made me realize how incredibly blessed I am. It made me realize how richly I have been provided for, how abundantly I've been rescued, and how fruitful He has made my womb. I think back to certain circumstances I grew up with, not always what you'd call ideal, and yet He still made a way to take me from ashes to glory with my only real contribution being a "yes". I've seen generational patterns fall by the wayside, relationships restored, hurts healed, and blessings abound. I've often walked a lone road of desperate intercession, pleading for transformation, marked by the blood of sometimes my own suffering. And yet, in reality, I was only sharing in the suffering that He had already provided for me. If that doesn't separate Jesus from any other "god" out there, I'm not sure what does. He is so intimate. He is life-changing. Being born again is almost an understatement.
And so, in this place of gratitude, it made me think of all of the things I would tell my young self not to worry about had I known life would turn out this way. And it also made me think of all the things I would like to remind myself of now--considering that He still has an even better plan for me.
Because that's just how good His love is.
Dear Five Year Old Sarah:
If you knew what I know now, I would tell you not to worry. I would tell you to rest. And even though life can seem chaotic, especially for a little girl, your Papa has made a way through the chaos. The reason you feel it so deeply is not because you are crazy, but because He has made you brilliantly sensitive. Don't let anyone ever call you over-emotional. Your emotions are what so poignantly lead you to freedom, not bottled up, but an outflow of raw human reality. And because you feel them, you will be able to relate to others in a way that most people cannot. And that will bring Life.
If you knew what I know now, I would tell you not to worry about sitting up straight, or getting good grades, or saying the right thing. I would tell you to misbehave--just a little. Take more chances. Make more mistakes. Your mistakes will lead you to one of your greatest gifts--wisdom. And what you thought you'd miss out on by messing up will really become your biggest asset, not only to yourself but also to other people. So take your mistakes and offer them generously to others, they really are gifts.
If you knew what I know now, I would tell you to go wildly after your dreams---especially the ones that seem impossible. Those dreams are secret keys to intimacy. You'll learn more about who you are and Who you belong to by following them, even when it hurts and even when it seems like there's no way for them to become reality. Don't let anyone discourage you, but listen to those who can give you genuine reassurance, constructive criticism, and challenging support. Those are the people who have your best interest at heart. Choose to believe.
If you knew what I know now, I would tell you to that even though people will let you down, love them anyway. Don't allow your own bitterness or your false expectations to clutter up real love. Serve where you are. Serve who you are. If someone denies it, makes fun of it, or can't accept it; it's okay. Love them anyway. But remember, you don't have to be best friends with them. Love doesn't necessarily always mean martyring yourself for someone else's gain. You have feelings, too--and you're allowed to create boundaries for your own well-being. You don't need to give out anything that you haven't been filled with first.
Speaking of, if you knew what I know now, I would tell you to accept Love lavishly. You don't need to accept love dressed up like flattery, or codependent "love", or love disguised as giving when it is really taking...but real love, the kind that initiates grace, forgiveness, and Godly discipline, accept that. You'll know the difference. Your discernment will tell you. And when you receive that kind of love, the exchange will be magnificent. It may come in packages that are difficult to understand or in ways that may not strike you as fair, but if you allow Love to reign, it will change your whole entire life. You will be one of the happiest people on the planet.
And last but not least, if you knew what I know now, I would tell you to listen to your Dad. Yes, your earthly Dad, but more importantly your Heavenly Dad. Take your advice from Him. Only listen to what He says about you because His plans for you are good and your future is bright. He is the only one who loves perfectly, and even when others let you down, He never will. If He seems distant or if you can't find Him, He hasn't disappeared and He hasn't forgotten about you. He never sleeps nor slumbers, and He knows every single thing about you....what makes you tick as well as what you need. His love for you is larger than you comprehend. When you have kids, you'll discover the smallest glimpse of how He feels about you. It's that much bigger.
Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Love yourself. Let others love you. Always be present in the moment. You won't ever regret truly living your life.
Love Always, Me
~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is so much to be grateful for. My spirit is nurtured by these reminders of what He has engrained in me throughout my life's journey.
Now that I am once again blubbering, what would you say to your 5 year old self?
All that being said, I have had the kind of week that's only simile can be a comparison to climbing a mountain. It's been intense, exhausting, challenging, and yet sweetly satisfying. All of that clutter I've been working my way through, wow. It's been important. Not only has it helped me create order in my house, but it's been a prophetic act of creating order in my soul. And that order--though in process can be difficult to sort through--is so worth it when I start to see the puzzle pieces fit and when I start to see purpose in the fight.
I had a special moment on Monday morning. Ella was oversleeping, and I took advantage of the sun barely peeking through my windows to cuddle in my robe that barely covers my bulging belly, grab a cup of coffee, and pray. I got a sweet kiss from my hubby who headed out the door for work, and then I settled in. I looked around my living room. I glanced over at Howie who had taken up residence in "his spot" on the couch, his eyes closed so that I could only see the perfect St. Bernard mask covering his face, his lips hanging over my favorite throw pillow. Then, I heard the heartbeat of Ella's sound machine pulsing through her video monitor. I looked closely to see a diapered booty facing me, little hands curled up close to her face, and the faint rising and falling of her chest.
It was all beautifully glorious.
And in one moment, I was full of the most intense and sobering sense of gratitude. I didn't conjur up reasons to be thankful, they just hit me.
And I sat there, soaking in gratitude, crying for nearly ten minutes.
Scanning my living room made me realize how incredibly blessed I am. It made me realize how richly I have been provided for, how abundantly I've been rescued, and how fruitful He has made my womb. I think back to certain circumstances I grew up with, not always what you'd call ideal, and yet He still made a way to take me from ashes to glory with my only real contribution being a "yes". I've seen generational patterns fall by the wayside, relationships restored, hurts healed, and blessings abound. I've often walked a lone road of desperate intercession, pleading for transformation, marked by the blood of sometimes my own suffering. And yet, in reality, I was only sharing in the suffering that He had already provided for me. If that doesn't separate Jesus from any other "god" out there, I'm not sure what does. He is so intimate. He is life-changing. Being born again is almost an understatement.
And so, in this place of gratitude, it made me think of all of the things I would tell my young self not to worry about had I known life would turn out this way. And it also made me think of all the things I would like to remind myself of now--considering that He still has an even better plan for me.
Because that's just how good His love is.
Dear Five Year Old Sarah:
If you knew what I know now, I would tell you not to worry. I would tell you to rest. And even though life can seem chaotic, especially for a little girl, your Papa has made a way through the chaos. The reason you feel it so deeply is not because you are crazy, but because He has made you brilliantly sensitive. Don't let anyone ever call you over-emotional. Your emotions are what so poignantly lead you to freedom, not bottled up, but an outflow of raw human reality. And because you feel them, you will be able to relate to others in a way that most people cannot. And that will bring Life.
If you knew what I know now, I would tell you not to worry about sitting up straight, or getting good grades, or saying the right thing. I would tell you to misbehave--just a little. Take more chances. Make more mistakes. Your mistakes will lead you to one of your greatest gifts--wisdom. And what you thought you'd miss out on by messing up will really become your biggest asset, not only to yourself but also to other people. So take your mistakes and offer them generously to others, they really are gifts.
If you knew what I know now, I would tell you to go wildly after your dreams---especially the ones that seem impossible. Those dreams are secret keys to intimacy. You'll learn more about who you are and Who you belong to by following them, even when it hurts and even when it seems like there's no way for them to become reality. Don't let anyone discourage you, but listen to those who can give you genuine reassurance, constructive criticism, and challenging support. Those are the people who have your best interest at heart. Choose to believe.
If you knew what I know now, I would tell you to that even though people will let you down, love them anyway. Don't allow your own bitterness or your false expectations to clutter up real love. Serve where you are. Serve who you are. If someone denies it, makes fun of it, or can't accept it; it's okay. Love them anyway. But remember, you don't have to be best friends with them. Love doesn't necessarily always mean martyring yourself for someone else's gain. You have feelings, too--and you're allowed to create boundaries for your own well-being. You don't need to give out anything that you haven't been filled with first.
Speaking of, if you knew what I know now, I would tell you to accept Love lavishly. You don't need to accept love dressed up like flattery, or codependent "love", or love disguised as giving when it is really taking...but real love, the kind that initiates grace, forgiveness, and Godly discipline, accept that. You'll know the difference. Your discernment will tell you. And when you receive that kind of love, the exchange will be magnificent. It may come in packages that are difficult to understand or in ways that may not strike you as fair, but if you allow Love to reign, it will change your whole entire life. You will be one of the happiest people on the planet.
And last but not least, if you knew what I know now, I would tell you to listen to your Dad. Yes, your earthly Dad, but more importantly your Heavenly Dad. Take your advice from Him. Only listen to what He says about you because His plans for you are good and your future is bright. He is the only one who loves perfectly, and even when others let you down, He never will. If He seems distant or if you can't find Him, He hasn't disappeared and He hasn't forgotten about you. He never sleeps nor slumbers, and He knows every single thing about you....what makes you tick as well as what you need. His love for you is larger than you comprehend. When you have kids, you'll discover the smallest glimpse of how He feels about you. It's that much bigger.
Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Love yourself. Let others love you. Always be present in the moment. You won't ever regret truly living your life.
Love Always, Me
~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is so much to be grateful for. My spirit is nurtured by these reminders of what He has engrained in me throughout my life's journey.
Now that I am once again blubbering, what would you say to your 5 year old self?
Monday, January 16, 2012
Excess. Extra. Clutter. Waste.
It's been a really interesting week. David and I started into a New Year's "spring" cleaning as soon as Christmas passed. It has been both overwhelming as well as satisfying. I'll start with overwhelming...
We've moved at least eight times since we've been married (eight years), and three of those moves have involved U-hauls driving across country. Yes, we're crazy. We actually almost lost everything we owned, including our one and only car, when we were moving in a horrific rain storm through the bridges of New Orleans, Louisiana. I was praying that we (and all of our stuff) wouldn't be eaten by the alligators that were no doubtedly living under those bridges as we drove through Mardi Gras at a speed that I would say was "too fast!"--oh, and did I mention we both had the stomach flu?
ANYWAY...
Perhaps we just figured we'd get our crazy moving adventures mostly accomplished before we had kids. Now that we have Howie, Ella, and another little love on the way, I look back and think we were pretty smart. Or, rather, God's plan for us was pretty smart. I really shouldn't take the credit on this one. Even the alligators were part of His gracious plan for us.
I say all this to say, each time we had to pack up that U-haul and move, we got rid of excess "stuff". There just was no room, and neither of us wanted to drag junk that we didn't need into a U-haul and move it across the country only to unpack it--and try to make room for it in our new place--when we didn't have room for it in our current place. Not to mention that we didn't have any use for it.
And, here we are again, New Year's cleaning time. Though we aren't necessarily moving across country, we still have excess. As we've been deep cleaning and purging and organizing, I have to wonder how in the world we lived with all this junk for so long. I know how...we lived with anxiety.
There's a unsettling feeling when you know things are cluttered, is there not? Well, it just so happened that I had/have some clutter to get rid of (creative people are just so good at making excuses for keeping this clutter around!). I'm so thankful for all those big moves early on in our marriage that helped us get rid of the really useless stuff, but even still, it's amazing how much excess can accumulate after you've settled in a house for even just a few years.
And, so, with a new babe on the way, we've decided--it's time to officially finish our house.
Like for real. Deep clean. Purge. Organize. Paint the last three rooms, and wah-lah! But not only wah-lah--but we've developed a wonderful new skill set to help us keep the excess from creeping back. It doesn't mean we'll be perfect at it, it just means that we'll take a few steps to improve. So far, this has been our best way to see success. Over the last few years, we've made strides to delete GMO's and artificial ingredients from our food, exercise more, garden more, compost more, create more, give more...spend less. It, in turn, keeps us more free from distraction and more aware to enjoy life. We're not always great at it, we definitely have slumps, but it has overall changed our entire way of life.
And, thankfully, this year, as we've approached our deep clean, it hasn't been nearly as overwhelming but instead has been much more satisfactory. It's refreshing to look back and see our progress and yet still make room for a few new changes so we can finish this chapter and start a new one.
And, in addition, it gives me clarity and time to work on things that matter to me--like my writing--without having that nagging feeling overwhelming me about how I need to clean out my clothes closet or organize our fifty boxes of crap in the attic. Can I get an amen?
With that, I wanted to let you know I've made some progress with that writing (with special help from Ella's toys). Thanks so much to all of those who have been praying and have sent me some super sweet emails. You ROCK! I've started the big push....ya'll are like a spiritual epidural. Thank you for that!
Happy Monday!
We've moved at least eight times since we've been married (eight years), and three of those moves have involved U-hauls driving across country. Yes, we're crazy. We actually almost lost everything we owned, including our one and only car, when we were moving in a horrific rain storm through the bridges of New Orleans, Louisiana. I was praying that we (and all of our stuff) wouldn't be eaten by the alligators that were no doubtedly living under those bridges as we drove through Mardi Gras at a speed that I would say was "too fast!"--oh, and did I mention we both had the stomach flu?
ANYWAY...
Perhaps we just figured we'd get our crazy moving adventures mostly accomplished before we had kids. Now that we have Howie, Ella, and another little love on the way, I look back and think we were pretty smart. Or, rather, God's plan for us was pretty smart. I really shouldn't take the credit on this one. Even the alligators were part of His gracious plan for us.
I say all this to say, each time we had to pack up that U-haul and move, we got rid of excess "stuff". There just was no room, and neither of us wanted to drag junk that we didn't need into a U-haul and move it across the country only to unpack it--and try to make room for it in our new place--when we didn't have room for it in our current place. Not to mention that we didn't have any use for it.
And, here we are again, New Year's cleaning time. Though we aren't necessarily moving across country, we still have excess. As we've been deep cleaning and purging and organizing, I have to wonder how in the world we lived with all this junk for so long. I know how...we lived with anxiety.
There's a unsettling feeling when you know things are cluttered, is there not? Well, it just so happened that I had/have some clutter to get rid of (creative people are just so good at making excuses for keeping this clutter around!). I'm so thankful for all those big moves early on in our marriage that helped us get rid of the really useless stuff, but even still, it's amazing how much excess can accumulate after you've settled in a house for even just a few years.
And, so, with a new babe on the way, we've decided--it's time to officially finish our house.
Like for real. Deep clean. Purge. Organize. Paint the last three rooms, and wah-lah! But not only wah-lah--but we've developed a wonderful new skill set to help us keep the excess from creeping back. It doesn't mean we'll be perfect at it, it just means that we'll take a few steps to improve. So far, this has been our best way to see success. Over the last few years, we've made strides to delete GMO's and artificial ingredients from our food, exercise more, garden more, compost more, create more, give more...spend less. It, in turn, keeps us more free from distraction and more aware to enjoy life. We're not always great at it, we definitely have slumps, but it has overall changed our entire way of life.
And, thankfully, this year, as we've approached our deep clean, it hasn't been nearly as overwhelming but instead has been much more satisfactory. It's refreshing to look back and see our progress and yet still make room for a few new changes so we can finish this chapter and start a new one.
And, in addition, it gives me clarity and time to work on things that matter to me--like my writing--without having that nagging feeling overwhelming me about how I need to clean out my clothes closet or organize our fifty boxes of crap in the attic. Can I get an amen?
With that, I wanted to let you know I've made some progress with that writing (with special help from Ella's toys). Thanks so much to all of those who have been praying and have sent me some super sweet emails. You ROCK! I've started the big push....ya'll are like a spiritual epidural. Thank you for that!
Happy Monday!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Write. Write. Write.
There's something about being pregnant. You watch your belly grow and grow for 9 months. You go through different phases as even we "skinny girls" get to try out our new J. Lo features--as well as heartburn, loose hip joints, pulling butt muscles when getting off the couch (does this happen to anyone else?), and of course, peeing your pants.
But even more noticable (I know--what could be more noticable than peeing your pants?) is this joyful and anticipatory burden you carry as you wait for your new baby to be born. You see, that's how I feel about this little book I've been working on for six years. There has been no way for me to speed up the process because I didn't want to go into labor prematurely. I've had to feel the heartburn, the pull of butt muscles, and even a pair or two of wet jeans....and shoes.
I've had to feel and process through each heartbreak and joy--each seemingly disappointment that turned divine appointment. I've had to keep journal after journal of my sometimes insane thoughts, temper tantrums, and moments of graceful thankfulness and forgiveness. And not only that, I've had to start this sweet little blog that not only gives me the unction to write on regular basis, but it also connects me to people like you--who enjoy sharing in my life's ups and downs (or maybe you're just looking for some drama?). :)
All in all, I'm in this weird stage. Maybe some of you can relate. It's called "Ok, if I don't finish this book, I might kill someone." All those Braxton Hicks contractions and all those centimeters dilated, it's been leading up to something. This year. And I feel so excited and terrified all at the same time--which is precisely why I am writing this blog.
I need your help.
It's time for the pushing to start. I need someone who will graciously hold my hand while I dig my knuckles in. I need you fine readers of mine to check in on me once in awhile. Ask me how it's going. Tell me about one of my blogs that really touched you. I ask this not to feed my ego but to help remind me of what I'm doing.
You see, I write for several different reasons. 1. My emotions and thoughts get all blocked up if I don't AKA "I go crazy in the head". 2. God has asked me to, and so I want to be obedient (and because He knows that if I don't, I'll end up like number 1). 3. I get to share with you. I get to make friends and hopefully share something that will bring hope, life, and freedom to someone else. Yes, I would like to change the world. Whether it's seen or not seen. 4. The God who asked me to do it, well when I actually do what He asks, it ends up pointing not only me, but other people to His grace, His provision, and His heart for His kids. And I like when that happens--because He has changed my whole life around. Abundant and overflowing. I am not a statistic like I "should" be.
Instead, "I'm 30 and flirty and thriving." (Guess the movie!)
And that's because of Him.
So, there is my plea. Please help keep me accountable. I'm so excited to see this baby birthed--to see my dream become a reality, but it really is a group effort at this point. And you sweet people have been part of that, and I am so grateful. As I write, I think about who will read it often. It doesn't matter to me whether it's 5 people or 5 billion people--as long as it means something. And the very process of preparing it has, indeed, meant something. This little book has changed my life, given me purpose, been a friend, and has listened when I went off into hypoglycemic rants. And more importantly, it has pointed me to Him, brought me into a place of adoption instead of orphanhood, has confirmed my identity, and has brought me joy. It has been one of my 44 moments (click on the 44 for the backstory).
And so, thank you, almost-finished book. I promise I will try to do my due diligence to give you the time and devotion you deserve. I will try not to let myself get spiritually constipated by ignoring you when you're calling my name. And for the times that I do get constipated or writer's block, I will promise to let it go--because you are not just a thing to be checked off my to do list, but you are a living and breathing testament of my heart. You are an act of worship and an offering of myself. And whether broken or bruised--gladhearted or terrified, I will give of myself excellently.
And bless you, my sweet readers--whose emails and notes encourage me to be me and to live my life out loud! You mean more than you know.
Until next time, thank you all! (And please feel free to let me know how your "babies" are doing......I'd be happy to keep you accountable as well.)
But even more noticable (I know--what could be more noticable than peeing your pants?) is this joyful and anticipatory burden you carry as you wait for your new baby to be born. You see, that's how I feel about this little book I've been working on for six years. There has been no way for me to speed up the process because I didn't want to go into labor prematurely. I've had to feel the heartburn, the pull of butt muscles, and even a pair or two of wet jeans....and shoes.
I've had to feel and process through each heartbreak and joy--each seemingly disappointment that turned divine appointment. I've had to keep journal after journal of my sometimes insane thoughts, temper tantrums, and moments of graceful thankfulness and forgiveness. And not only that, I've had to start this sweet little blog that not only gives me the unction to write on regular basis, but it also connects me to people like you--who enjoy sharing in my life's ups and downs (or maybe you're just looking for some drama?). :)
All in all, I'm in this weird stage. Maybe some of you can relate. It's called "Ok, if I don't finish this book, I might kill someone." All those Braxton Hicks contractions and all those centimeters dilated, it's been leading up to something. This year. And I feel so excited and terrified all at the same time--which is precisely why I am writing this blog.
I need your help.
It's time for the pushing to start. I need someone who will graciously hold my hand while I dig my knuckles in. I need you fine readers of mine to check in on me once in awhile. Ask me how it's going. Tell me about one of my blogs that really touched you. I ask this not to feed my ego but to help remind me of what I'm doing.
You see, I write for several different reasons. 1. My emotions and thoughts get all blocked up if I don't AKA "I go crazy in the head". 2. God has asked me to, and so I want to be obedient (and because He knows that if I don't, I'll end up like number 1). 3. I get to share with you. I get to make friends and hopefully share something that will bring hope, life, and freedom to someone else. Yes, I would like to change the world. Whether it's seen or not seen. 4. The God who asked me to do it, well when I actually do what He asks, it ends up pointing not only me, but other people to His grace, His provision, and His heart for His kids. And I like when that happens--because He has changed my whole life around. Abundant and overflowing. I am not a statistic like I "should" be.
Instead, "I'm 30 and flirty and thriving." (Guess the movie!)
And that's because of Him.
So, there is my plea. Please help keep me accountable. I'm so excited to see this baby birthed--to see my dream become a reality, but it really is a group effort at this point. And you sweet people have been part of that, and I am so grateful. As I write, I think about who will read it often. It doesn't matter to me whether it's 5 people or 5 billion people--as long as it means something. And the very process of preparing it has, indeed, meant something. This little book has changed my life, given me purpose, been a friend, and has listened when I went off into hypoglycemic rants. And more importantly, it has pointed me to Him, brought me into a place of adoption instead of orphanhood, has confirmed my identity, and has brought me joy. It has been one of my 44 moments (click on the 44 for the backstory).
And so, thank you, almost-finished book. I promise I will try to do my due diligence to give you the time and devotion you deserve. I will try not to let myself get spiritually constipated by ignoring you when you're calling my name. And for the times that I do get constipated or writer's block, I will promise to let it go--because you are not just a thing to be checked off my to do list, but you are a living and breathing testament of my heart. You are an act of worship and an offering of myself. And whether broken or bruised--gladhearted or terrified, I will give of myself excellently.
And bless you, my sweet readers--whose emails and notes encourage me to be me and to live my life out loud! You mean more than you know.
Until next time, thank you all! (And please feel free to let me know how your "babies" are doing......I'd be happy to keep you accountable as well.)
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Light.
I've had this thing lately with lights and stars. It's been going on for a few years now, but it has been highlighted the last few months. It started to become particularly obvious to me when we chose a name for our new baby girl (before we even knew she was a girl). We've only decided to tell our immediate family her name until she is born (sorry!), but let's just say that part of her name means "light". The funny and beautiful thing about it is that the meaning wasn't on purpose. It was just the name we kept being drawn to. And when I looked the name up to see what the meaning was, it was confirmed to us even more that it was to be her name. The day we got our ultrasound to find out if she was a boy or a girl, we had the tech write the result in a card for us to open later. As we drove down Broadway in Nashville, I happened to look up at a billboard on the side of the Frist Visual Arts Building. Without going into a long, drawn out story, this Frist Art's Building and I have a special relationship. Remember when I was stopped at that red light looking at the Broadway sign? It was right in front of this building. And so, it's just one of those love taps from God that reminds me that His plan for me is good, that He has everything all lined up, and that He is always steps ahead of me--preparing a road for me that leads to adventure, fullness, and lots of Him.
So, back to the billboard. It had this picture on it; the presentation of Christ. Above it, the name of the exhibition was called "Divine Light".
I smiled. I knew it was a girl. It was just what I had secretly wanted even though I had geared myself up for a boy--just in case. After I saw the billboard, I started begging David to open the envelope. He wanted to wait for us to share a nice lunch together as a family, have a little ceremony, and then open it. Let's just say, he caved. And not even two seconds after I asked, I was ripping open that seal and unlocking the next piece to our life's puzzle. "It's a Girl!"
I say all this to say that so often God not only uses our children's names to identify parts of their identity but also to explain what is being birthed in us. Ella June is our "Beautiful Queen"--the female version of "Who is like God?" and this next season in our life pertains to shining lights, joyful and bright, unable to be put out, unstoppable. This holiday season, I kept seeing it over and over as we celebrated the star the lead us to Christmas, the Festival of Lights (Hanukkah and our 8th anniversary!), and of course the bling of the New Year.
Divine Light.
As we drove home from our Ohio adventures this Christmas, I took a turn at the wheel. I watched as the sun started to set, filling the sky with the most magnificent orange hue that slowly turned navy blue and then to deep black. And out of nowhere, it showed up. One bright star. The only star I could see in my whole point of view. And, again, a peace settled in my heart that Hope had come.
I followed this star all the way into Nashville--until I arrived in my driveway.
2011 didn't seem to be a great year for most of the people I know. There was a lot of transition, loss, separation, and illness. And yet, it brought forth this Light that had been hidden deep within our wells. Sometimes we go through hardship in order to refine what is rooted so deeply that we can't see it for ourselves. It doesn't mean it was never there to begin with, it just means that when we've lost our way, He'll send a star...guiding us back to where we know is home.
And so, this year, I look forward to seeing my little light be birthed and shine it's way onto my own life as well as onto others' lives as we venture into a divine season of Joy. I can't wait to see all of your lights shine, too, as they weave into one another like the dance of the Aurora Borealis.
Here's a clip from Ella's library of Veggie Tales that so beautifully portrays this light--from Christmas to Easter and beyond.
Happy New Year!!
Hope's Song
So, back to the billboard. It had this picture on it; the presentation of Christ. Above it, the name of the exhibition was called "Divine Light".
I smiled. I knew it was a girl. It was just what I had secretly wanted even though I had geared myself up for a boy--just in case. After I saw the billboard, I started begging David to open the envelope. He wanted to wait for us to share a nice lunch together as a family, have a little ceremony, and then open it. Let's just say, he caved. And not even two seconds after I asked, I was ripping open that seal and unlocking the next piece to our life's puzzle. "It's a Girl!"
I say all this to say that so often God not only uses our children's names to identify parts of their identity but also to explain what is being birthed in us. Ella June is our "Beautiful Queen"--the female version of "Who is like God?" and this next season in our life pertains to shining lights, joyful and bright, unable to be put out, unstoppable. This holiday season, I kept seeing it over and over as we celebrated the star the lead us to Christmas, the Festival of Lights (Hanukkah and our 8th anniversary!), and of course the bling of the New Year.
Divine Light.
As we drove home from our Ohio adventures this Christmas, I took a turn at the wheel. I watched as the sun started to set, filling the sky with the most magnificent orange hue that slowly turned navy blue and then to deep black. And out of nowhere, it showed up. One bright star. The only star I could see in my whole point of view. And, again, a peace settled in my heart that Hope had come.
I followed this star all the way into Nashville--until I arrived in my driveway.
2011 didn't seem to be a great year for most of the people I know. There was a lot of transition, loss, separation, and illness. And yet, it brought forth this Light that had been hidden deep within our wells. Sometimes we go through hardship in order to refine what is rooted so deeply that we can't see it for ourselves. It doesn't mean it was never there to begin with, it just means that when we've lost our way, He'll send a star...guiding us back to where we know is home.
And so, this year, I look forward to seeing my little light be birthed and shine it's way onto my own life as well as onto others' lives as we venture into a divine season of Joy. I can't wait to see all of your lights shine, too, as they weave into one another like the dance of the Aurora Borealis.
Here's a clip from Ella's library of Veggie Tales that so beautifully portrays this light--from Christmas to Easter and beyond.
Happy New Year!!
Hope's Song
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