Pulling Out the Goodness.

One of the best ways to thwart offense is looking for the good.

It doesn't mean you don't deal with what offended you. It just means that at some point, you can move on.  And by moving on, I mean more than moving on, I mean restoring the breach.

A few months ago, I started on a proactive journey to forgive.  Apparently, God gave me the clue to do so in advance--because what was coming was going to be a challenge.  In all reality, it was really kind of Him.  He's always handing me treasure maps.

It's not like forgiveness is anything new.  I've had the opportunity to forgive (and be forgiven) many times in my life--but this time, it felt more definitive.  There was an actual shift taking place in my thinking before I got hurt or offended.

It was changing my every day existence; it was healing my DNA at it's core.  I can no longer respond to what happens to me, I have already responded. I've chosen to forgive.  I can no longer be on the defense. By forgiving, I'm on the offense.

Interesting thought, isn't it?

How often we are on the defense? Reacting to what happens to us. Instead of it reacting to us.

In all reality, we have the opportunity to live from a place where we can score some points instead of being preoccupied with keeping the other team from scoring.

I'm shifting.

And it's so very freeing.  It's almost like flying.  It's moments like this when I realize that the Gospel is way better than I've even known.  It really, truly is Good News. This is how Jesus lives...all the time.  No wonder He is able to love so well. No wonder He was able to die that death.

He was focused on pulling out the Goodness in us. He saw our worth from the very Beginning.

I have this thing. I hate "worship" songs that claim that we are unworthy sinners. Sinners we were, yes.  Unworthy? No way.  Would you ever tell the child that you created in your womb that he or she is unworthy of love? That he is filthy? That he is undeserving of love? No way.

Do you teach a child who he or she is by labeling them by their faults? A child might exude bad behavior, but surely a child is not bad. Or unworthy. Or undeserving of love.  You don't go around calling that child a loser, or a misfit, or a bad boy (or rather, you shouldn't).  Instead, you call out the Life in him.  "I know you're a really good boy.  This behavior isn't a good idea. It's unsafe, it's not kind.  It results in consequences like time out. But, you, I know you are kind.  I know you love making good choices--because good choices result in a lot of fun!"

Unfortunately, we often posture ourselves before God from the place of insecurity.  Begging Him to love us and accept us. We've believed that we equal our behavior. We've believed a lie.  We then berate ourselves into constantly trying to please Him; thinking that if we do one thing wrong, we obviously deserve the punishment. We look at hard circumstances in our lives as justified.  We deserve this. Not only do we often posture ourselves this way, but we then place that same label on everyone else around us.  They deserve that. And you know what?

It makes it impossible to forgive ourselves and each other.

Everyone has a story.  Each person has a reason why he or she is the way that they are.  Our goal isn't to brand someone's identity because they might have a hard time believing who they were created to be. Even when they use that insecurity to hurt us.  Our goal is to pull out of them the very essence of their God-given DNA--which is astounding and amazing and wonderful.

We have an extraordinary opportunity to live with purpose.  We can make best friends out of all our enemies.  Perhaps this is what Jesus meant. Love your enemies.

I've been watching this unfold in my life the last few months. I'm learning how to live on the offense instead of on the defense.  It doesn't mean I don't have bad days or days when the other team scores points.  But what it does mean is that my life feels so very much lighter.

I'm not constantly fighting off feelings of bitterness or resentment.  Instead, I'm moving toward how I can play a part in restoring a breach.  Restoring a breach is way more fun. And it's way more rewarding.

It's not always easy---but either is having a baby. In fact, the last few days: my pelvis has been extremely sore, my hands and feet are starting to retain water, and I go to the bathroom every 5 minutes.  Not exactly convenient.  Not to mention, that in less than two weeks, this human being will come out of my body through a more than painless experience. And then will come nursing every two hours.  And midnight wakings....and poopy diapers.

But you know what? I'd take it in a heartbeat.  I'll take the inconveniences that lead me to Life.

I'll choose to pull the Good out of the situation.

I'll even choose to pull the Good out of the person who tells me I'm leading incorrectly or who judges me or who unintentionally or intentionally hurts me--because in all reality, that isn't bothering me anymore.  My DNA is transforming into forgiveness. Criticism or a negative tongue is a sting of death.  There's no need for me to even acknowledge it. I've already conquered death--because He did.

Now, I'm moving toward my reward. Life.

Moves Like Jagger Continued...

I've had several people ask me in the last week about an update on our potential big move.  I realized that I kinda left you guys hanging by accident...only cause I've been hanging, too. Or maybe more like swinging...

But, I do have an update. And it's a doozy.  I hope that it is encouraging to you in whatever journey and transition you are also working through--this whole thing has sure turned my world for a loop.  And though I still don't know the outcome fully, I would never ever change the last three months for anything. Even my emotional rants. I'd do that again, too.

About three weeks ago, we found out that my inheritance funds were going to be locked up for at least six months.  And even if they came then, it wasn't going to be free and clear.  There was still some baggage attached that we'd have to work through and pay back.  In a way, though, I had this feeling in my spirit that the tide had turned.  I happened to be in route to record my VO demo, and you know what song came on? Riiiiiiiight. Moves Like Jagger.  As I listened, I heard Him say "Last time, I had the Moves Like Jagger. Now, you've got the Moves Like Jagger." As I pictured Jesus Roger-Rabbiting in his robe, I laughed (thanks for the visual, Laurie).  I started to Roger Rabbit, too.

And then I almost got in a car accident.

He gently said, "Yes...... but slow it down, sister."

He's so smart.

I'm still learning the rhythm of God.  Perhaps it's why I like to dance.  The only problem is, if I bust out all my moves at the beginning, I'm too tired for the finish.  The grand finale.

His point exactly.

Yes, the tide had turned.  In fact, the only hope I had in the natural that things were progressing was this one specific house we happened to look at.  It was the carrot God was dangling in front of my snout to keep me moving forward.  I had no interest in moving if it wasn't this house. He knows my fickle nature.  Though I would like to egotistically say that I am defaulted at always believing the best of God, I am not.  I need Him to dangle a carrot sometimes.  And He more than understands that.  I've had some blows.  So, graciously dangle the carrot He did.

Until two days after this almost accident.

I had a dance rehearsal. Afterward, I decided to drive past this house we were eyeing.  All the signs were there that it was ours.  It even had a car with a license plate with 44 in the driveway. Talk about carrot dangling.  Well, it just so happened, that on April 4th (4/4), this evening when I decided to drive past it....when I had just finished rehearsing for an Easter production--because He is Risen--and my life is now going to be resurrected from this turmoil....that I passed the house.

With a big ole SOLD sign in the yard.

In a way, I felt relieved.  In a way, I felt slightly disappointed.  But in a bigger way, I felt Hope.  I realized it was a carrot.

And now I could let it go.

Because in all reality, I wasn't interesting in moving until after I had this baby out of my body anyway.  I couldn't even get vision to prepare my girl's nursery because of the thought of putting so much work into something that could be gone in several months.  Well, and let's be honest. At the beginning of this whole thing, I did not want to move AT ALL. I put up a fight and ignored all signs toward moving, pretending I couldn't see what God was asking of me.

And now, I could rest for a little bit.  I could nest.  And I could easily believe that what God had coming was way bigger.  Not because I was still holding out for something in the natural, but because He had done a supernatural working in my heart.  When I passed that SOLD sign, something inside me shifted.  When I didn't cry in anguish over what I thought was going to happen but didn't, I realized that He had healed me.  He healed my "Hope Deferred Makes the Heart Sick Syndrome".  I was really satisfied more with Him than with the carrot.  And all of my fighting and wrestling and hormonal rage was part of that. I had to get that stuff out of my system.  All those times I felt like people had left me hanging or that I was still waiting for God to come through for me. It was gone.  And instead of being upset, I had Hope. With no effort. And with no energy.  Hope had taken up residence inside my soul.  He had taken up residence inside my soul.

I went on with my life cheerily. Oh, sweet Jesus. You saved me from having to put my house up for sale with a newborn! I don't have to clean up after my toddler and St. Bernard every-single-day. And you healed me! Just because you asked me to say "yes" didn't mean I had to jump into the deep end of the pool without swimming lessons! No CPR for me.

And, then, I got a phone call.  It's just the way God is. It happens to be that my inheritance money is still locked up for a little while, but it has doubled in value in the last three months.

Yes.

No baggage. Free and clear. And twice as big.

Abundance comes from the overflow of the heart. He changed my heart, so I could have abundance.  I might still need a few more swim lessons before I decide to jump off the high dive.   But I no longer need to wear a life jacket...I've learned how to swim.

And how to dance.

I'll be ready for my grand finale when it's time.

I get to birth my baby in a home of rest--just like I hoped to do.  And when that money that has been growing on a Tree--perhaps one that bore the body of a King--is ready to bloom, I will be able to grab hold of it easily. And rest in it's shade......His shade.


He's a faithful God.  Always going behind me and before me. Paving the way to Abundant Life.



Happy Monday! Life is good.

Lady in Red.

There's a Misty Edwards song that I love that goes something like this: "He's gonna turn it all around, just wait and see. He's gonna make everything beautiful just in time."

Oh, yes. It it what we have clung to the last 9 months at our house.  Our sweet Baby Red is coming just in time.  This pregnancy has had it's similarities and it's differences from Ella.  All in all, I think it's been physically easier--except for the first trimester (you don't want to know)...and yet emotionally and spiritually, this baby girl sure is a mover and a shaker.

I often wonder if many people really understand what it takes to carry another human spirit. Sure, we're pregnant. We create a human being in our bodies and carry it until it's born--that's a miracle in and of itself. And an understatement.

But with carrying a human being, we also carry a human spirit.  We carry a double dose of God for 9 months. Double portion. Double grace.

She's changed me.  And I don't take her existence in my womb lightly.

She's changed our circumstances. She's changed the way I look at things. Her spirit interacting with mine, pulling out the fibers of who I was created to be--long before I may have even realized it.  And not only mine, but everyone else that she comes into contact with.

That's just how valuable Life is.

I often sit and watch Ella. Her prophetic nature is so wise and discerning. She has so much to say and so much to express--if given the opportunity.  Oftentimes, I end up realizing it is more in my responsibility to foster how she was created rather than to "parent" her.  Yes, there are definitely times she needs discipline, but most of the time, she just needs the space to be nurtured.  The way I see it, she's closer to Heaven than I am. I've had 30 years of backtracking under my belt--but her? She was just there.  And her uncanny wisdom flows like a River...

That's how I feel about this baby girl coming.  Her spirit has already shifted our family more towards the supernatural and away from the natural.  Her very presence shaking things up.  Her essence so close to the Creator that when she arrives, it will change us forever. Isn't that just like God?

Throughout my pregnancy, she's caused us to take more risks that we thought we ever would.  The intercession and passion she carries is unlike what we've known up to this point. We've jumped into the abyss of the unknown--into the land of Faith.  If red is the color of Jesus, then she is teaching us that. The unpredictable, yet full of nurture, Jesus. Red.

No one would have thought He would have died that death--even though He told us He would.

And, no one, thought He'd come back to life to tell about it.

And, yet, we all do.  Or--we all have the opportunity to do so.

It's like carrying a baby.  First trimester, you just feel sick.  And no one even knows your pregnant. Your immune system takes a toll because this human it's helping to create sucks all the living energy and umph out of you.  You hold onto that porcelain throne for dear life.  And for "fear" of not making it through that first trimester, you usually only tell a few people what special beauty you are carrying.  You're just laying your life down--for this beautiful hope to come forth.

And then comes the second trimester.  You are refreshed--and alive! The bump is taking shape, and it's becoming obvious that life is forming.  As you grow, you prepare.  And more people start asking about the bowling ball that is protruding from your shirt.  You can then find out if it's a boy or girl--if you want.  You can think of names and identify how God has marked her character.

And then it's time for the third trimester.  The land of waiting and getting huge.  Your pelvis starts to loosen, and heartburn is your best friend.  Water is your saving grace. You drink and drink and drink--to keep away the swelling.  Desperate for Living Water.  Oh, Jesus. You're the only one getting this baby out of my body.  I think I've said the phrase "Sweet Jesus" more in the last month than I ever have---ever.  He's all we've got.


As if the physical portion isn't enough, there's also the emotional side and the spiritual side.  We are three parts: spirit, soul, and body.  Yes, my body houses her body--but it also houses her emotions--and it houses her spirit.  Her spirit. That place where she connects with God. I house that?

Yes.  It's the great miracle of creation--and creativity.  When God said, "Let there be..."

And so I learn to follow His example.  Dying a death and birthing a life. But somewhere in the following, I realize that following isn't even the best term anymore.  Somewhere in the process, I've finally and graciously realized what He's been telling me all along--I'm no longer following. I'm co-laboring.  We are partners---connected in divine Union.  There is no separation between us.  We are one.  He took care of it all--no need to "follow". We are married.  By Red.


So, instead of my false rationalization of Faith that is often mixed with fear and unbelief and false humility, I just jump in. Obedience is no longer my guiding point--but a steward. Instead, Passion has taken over. I'm plunged into His very essence.  It's the most beautiful of all Love Stories.  Being one with God.  Coming Home.


My natural body meeting His supernatural body.  Fully God and Fully Man.

Jesus.


The bread and the wine.


He's been a co-conspirator with my baby girl.  Loving me Life.  Loving our family to Life.

Oh, Sweet Jesus.  We restfully and excitedly wait for Your arrival.  For her arrival.

There is so much good to embrace now--and so much more to look forward to.......

See you soon, sweet girl.

Creation.

One of my favorite parts of creativity is restoration.  Making something fun or beautiful or exotic is fine in and of itself, I guess.  But if there isn't much meaning behind it, it is really pretty lifeless.

When you pour your heart and your soul into creativity, though, it has great purpose and eternal meaning. It's kind of like restoring furniture.  You find this old and tattered couch in need of Stanley Steemer, a detox, and new fabric. Some people might look at it and say "just throw it away".  And then there are those creative few, who can look at it, and see the Future.  At the moment, I'm currently working on a similar project. It's my first big Pinterest one! We were so graciously given the most comfortable loveseat in the whole entire world for Ella's nursery. The only problem was, it didn't really match her room. It worked ok, but I really wanted to re-upholster it.  Not having any clue how to do so until Pinterest came along, I'm now working on a loveseat cover for it as we have placed it into Baby Red's room--and I couldn't be happier.  David asked me if it was too much for me to do while I was pregnant and that we could just buy one, but I said "no". I really wanted to do this; it's part of my nesting.

Because Restoration is part of my DNA.


Every time I wake up in the middle of the night to nurse my baby girl, I will sit and rest in this chair--with the beautifully made chair cover--and I will be full. I will have seen God's hand at work.


One of the most wonderful phrases that I've ever heard came right out of the mouth of Jesus. "Behold, I make all things new." (Revelation 21:5)

When it came out at the theatre, I remember going with a very hurting and angry friend to see the Passion of the Christ. Our relationship had really gone through the ringer. Throughout the movie, he was having a hard time seeing the screen. A little before the part in the movie where Christ is carrying the Cross while being whipped and mocked, He falls to the ground.  His mother comes running toward Him, and He holds her face and says "Behold, I make all things new." I remember praying so hard that my friend would see this part--not because I wanted to change him, or because I wanted him to follow my agenda, or because I wanted to fix him--even though he had pulled some whammies on me.  I just wanted him to see.  I wanted him to see his potential and his worth. About five minutes before this scene came on, he found his glasses in his pocket.  And I cried as we watched this very scene together....HERE.

Jesus can redeem anything--even the most hurtful and traumatic situations in our lives.


That movie was just a beginning. As I let go of my own offenses and bitterness, I saw this friend blossom.  He started to become who he was created to be. He believed...in his own way...that Jesus could make all things new.  And I did nothing to make it happen, except give him an invitation to a movie.


God is gracious enough to include us in the process of restoration. We get to be partakers in His divine nature--if we want to.

But if we really want to see transformation in our lives and in our cities, we have to let our agendas go. We have to drop our politics and also our struggles for power.  When we do that, we can truly create lasting change.


This is why I love creativity so much. It is full of power if used restoratively.  I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said "Make Art. Not War." My thoughts exactly.  If we are humble enough to lay our own lives down, just as Jesus did, we can see Him make all things new in and through us.  We can watch Him raise us to new life; we can be resurrected with Him.

Oh, there have been many times I have been whipped and mocked while carrying a cross. In fact, it happened yet again this week.  The very person I was laying my life down for--spit on me.  And it wasn't the first time.

At that moment, I had two choices. Get angry and offended--and snarl back.  Or choose to see the best in that person--and ask God how I could speak life in response. For a second, I got angry. I thought to myself "We're not past this yet? Really?" And then, I remembered Jesus.

And I let it go.

Once I remembered the well of Forgiveness given to me, I replied to this particular situation. In love. With truth and life.  I didn't ignore the wrong doing, I spoke into it. And then I pulled the Truth of acceptance and love and the possibility of all things becoming new out of this person.

This is creativity. This is Restoration.

Now, let's be clear. I did this with no strength of my own. In fact, before I did it, I came to Jesus with my fists wailing saying "We're doing this again!! Did you see what so and so did to me?? I did nothing wrong and got kicked in the backside by this person again! I know you saw it, Jesus. You were there!"

And after I let it out, He said. "I did see what happened. It made me sad, too. Now, how can we change your perspective to transform this situation? Because I want the best for both of you. You're both my kids."

And that's when He taught me how to oh so lovingly "fight back".  I didn't have to boycott this person. And I also didn't have to take the punch without any reply.

Jesus replied, He rose from the dead.  

And yet, I wasn't ready to reply until I understood the essence of the resurrection in my own life.

We can't speak love to someone if we are judging them at the same time.

It bears no fruit.

And, I don't know about you, but fruit is one of my most favorite things in the world (aside from Cadbury Creme Eggs).  In fact, yesterday, I bought the most wonderful, spiky pineapple in all of Kroger because I wanted to celebrate.

I want the forever kind of fruit, fruit that will last (John 15:16).

When I die someday, please leave me fruit on my tombstone. May it say "She loved always."

Because that is what creativity is all about.  That is why He said "Let there be Light." He loves always...He's always flipping on the Light switch for us.  Hence why, our new baby girl's name means LIGHT.

Happy Friday....may you be refreshed in all the ways He shows you love and light this weekend (and then hand it out to someone else!)....

I Love Life.

A few days ago, as I was sorting the laundry, I came across one of my favorite shirts.  I don't get to wear it very often because it's a little too big, but it works out just perfectly when I'm pregnant. I remember buying it years before Ella was in the picture. Even though it was too big at the time, I had to have it.  It's bright pink and says "I Love Life."

Oh, isn't it true?

I love life. Real life.  Day to day drudgery caused by outside anxieties or my own anxieties is not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the real thing.  When grace and truth melt together in a tangible way that changes our lives forever. That's real life.  And it tastes so very good. It tastes like Easter.

In reality, it's why I dance. Remember how I told you the story of being born with hip dysplasia? Dancing was definitely not on the list of my most likely "to do's". They thought I would limp...or perhaps be in a wheelchair.  The prognosis was not great, but God had other plans...because He loves life, too.

In fact, to take a step back even further, it even begins with something much deeper.  My very essence. I was conceived at a time when our country was in some turmoil. There was a recession, money was scarce, my parents weren't having an easy time financially.  People were worried that provision would not come. They lived in fear. And so you know what someone suggested? To just get rid of me. Thinking that aborting life was easier than carrying it through some hard times.

I've been thinking about that quite a bit this Holy Week. Life.

I see pictures on Facebook (and everywhere) of all different kinds of extremes. This battle over Life. Over the Resurrection.

It seems as though we are at a cross roads. We have people on one side saying it's a woman's right to choose and that it's her body.  On the other side, we have people saying it's a human life--and no one has the right to choose to end a human life.  We have people passionate on both sides of the coin--and I'd say a lot of those who are passionate about it may not have any idea what it takes to carry a baby to full term.  Perhaps that's why we haven't made too much progress in our campaigns.

If we look at our lives and other people's lives as a campaign or as a power struggle, we won't ever get anything much accomplished.  There won't ever be much "life" to show for it. I saw a bumper sticker today on my way to dance rehearsal (while wearing my pink shirt). Want to know what it said?

"When the power to love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace."

If that doesn't sound like Good Friday, I'm not sure what does.

Jesus, naked and broken, laid down his very life to sacrifice it for someone else. Me. You.

He suffered. He said no to any agenda, to any struggle over power or fame. He was spit on. Taunted until He breathed His last breath.

He carried His life-- and ours-- to full term, never getting ahead of Himself. He embraced the cross.  He embraced my consequences. Those decisions I've made outside of covenant with Him, He still took them upon Himself. The only question He asked was "Will you follow me?"  Sounds like a woman who may have found herself in a compromising position. A Mary Magdelene perhaps. She was one of Jesus' favorites, in fact. Broken, abandoned, wounded...maker of a few wrong choices. And yet, where did she find herself when Jesus was dying His death for her? At His feet....crying with Him. Serving Him.

On the other hand, there were others present that day on Skull Hill. We also have those cheering "Crucify Him! Make Him suffer. Where can I find a bigger rock to throw? If He says that He is the God's Son, why doesn't He just get off that cross? Save yourself!" They do all this while He hangs there, not saying a word. Just embracing the pain.  He knows that His resurrection will come, and it will be worth it.

Unfortunately, sometimes I'm not sure that we have really come very far from this scenerio.  We still have half of the population suffering under the weight of abandonment, brokenness, and perhaps a wrong choice. On the other hand, we have those judging the ones who are in that very position.  If a woman chooses life after she's looked for love in all the wrong places, she is scorned for being "unwed". She often has to fend for herself and isn't given much of a chance to survive, let alone the help to nurture a life well.  And on the other hand, if she chooses to abort, she often receives judgement, stone throwing and a life of shame.  Not to mention, there is usually no life in any form to show for it.  And then somewhere in the middle is an even more sad state, where a woman stands before the Cross and spits. Life completely disregarded. No intention of carrying any bit of promise to fulfillment.  When life isn't even considered worthy, it's the most devastating.

Speaking from a woman who has lost a baby, I know the anquish of mother whose had life plunged from her body, with no hope of survival. It's painfully difficult to understand how I can have such feelings of sadness and pain when a 6.5 week old life is stolen from my body--and yet another woman may easily "choose" for that to happen on purpose. I don't wish those feelings of turmoil on any woman--whether they've chosen it or not. It's a horrendous battle to face, even if you think you're ignoring it.

And, yet, no one is worthy of speaking into that delicate of a situation unless it comes from a place of Love. It's not about power or about inflicting our personal pain onto one another. None of us actually hanged on that cross, except for Jesus. He's the only one who gets to touch that.  Any of our meager attempts to do so in our own strength only push us further down the distrastrous cycle of death...contributing to the greatest genocide of humankind. The one that's happening in our very own backyard.

We must learn love first. It can't be about power, or winning, or "teaching someone something".  And it definitely can't be about using our own pain to blame someone else. Oh, how did our hearts become so calloused? How did we get so far away from the cross?

How did our love for "life" become a battle of mother vs. child? Isn't a child supposed to be created in the safety of a mother's womb?

It's amazing any of us survive at all with the amount of choices we're given now-a-days.  And, yet, it's amazing that any of us survive with the amount of judgement we carry toward one another in our sufferings as well.

I suppose abortion isn't typically a Good Friday sort of topic, and yet, if we're ever to get anywhere in our search for prosperity and peace as people, and as a nation, and as a world---I think it's needs to be.

The new baby girl moving in my belly reminds me of this as I type.  We've nicknamed her Baby Red.  Full of Grace. Full of the Cross.  She's my promise of a fulfilled womb after an empty one remained prematurely.

She kind of reminds me of Easter...

Full of Life and Full of Hope.  Made from Love.

We have a choice this Good Friday as to how we respond to Life.  It may not come in the packages we expected.  It may not be a child.  It may be something else, a different situation. A different crossroads.  And yet, we do have a choice.  On this Good Friday, I hope we can choose Love. I hope we can choose Life.

Just Say No to Sunburn!

Ella and I have had some what of an exhausting few weeks. The early sunshine this spring is not only wonderful, but it is also somewhat difficult to manage. Or, rather, it makes my toddler somewhat difficult to manage. Ella would play outside all day long if I let her.  And, hence, this has initiated some very long afternoons for us the past few weeks.

The other day, we were enjoying our morning outside. She ran ran ran. I sat on padded patio furniture with my feet propped up and soaked up her enthusiasm.  But then, I could start to feel the sun scorching my skin just a little bit. I realized that we had been outside for an adequate amount of time, and I didn't want either of us to get sun-burnt. Needless to say, it was time for a bath and lunch, so that she could then nap really well from all her running.

And then it started.

"Ella..."

(She tries to then hide behind the shed).

"Ella....it's time for us to go inside now."

(I hear something similar to a grunt).

"Ella, please listen to Mama. I don't want you to get sun-burnt."

(Toddler screammmm.....)

Bringing Ella inside after she has been enjoying her freedom in the back yard is one of the hardest times of this pregnant lady's day. She rarely is ready to come back inside.  It usually ends up with her saying something like "Omma--mine! Omma--mine!" This means "Hey Mom. I was playing back here--this yard is mine doncha know!"

I try to let her know that I hear her. "I know, Ella. It's frustrating when you want to stay outside, but it's best for us to go inside now."

I love when God teaches me a parenting lesson through my girl. Children are such gifts from God for many, many reasons.

In fact, it was just a few days ago that I was sharing with a friend about how children are the highways to holiness in our lives--if we let them be.  Ella is always teaching me something. If it's good behavior, I have this moment of delicious grace...like "Wow. I helped make her? Thanks, God." And when it's not so good behavior, I have a different kind of delicious grace...like "Wow. I still do that? Time to re-evaluate. Thanks, God."

I've been thinking a lot about perspective lately.  It's so often that when things don't go what seems like "my way", it's easy to get a bit frustrated. It's natural to be disappointed at first; it's a human emotion.  And yet, if I just give myself a few minutes to look up to God and to release the frustration, I see that nothing is really worth long-term disappointment. That's just not who God is.  He's always looking to turn a situation into something good. I just need to have my glasses on, so I can enjoy the process.

I've been the toddler outside playing in my grass many a time. "I don't want to come inside! I'm playing outside! I'm having fun. Leave me alone!" And yet, inside is where the heart changes.  If inside isn't taken care of than outside is really not nearly as fun as it could be.

And isn't it ironic that it's Holy Week? It's a chance to look at our places of suffering. Where we may have been wounded, or exhausted, or used, or beaten. It's a chance to come inside and to find rest. To receive nourishment.  Nothing happens by coincidence.  My pet peeves or frustrations or unfortunate happenings of today are only a result of a unresolved wounding from the past.  God isn't punishing us by bringing those things up--again. He's inviting us join Him there.  It's not until we truly embrace where He walked--suffering, abandoned, rejected, exhausted--that those old patterns can finally die. It opens us up to new life.


Because on Sunday, we will rise with Him.

After we do so, we have a much better opportunity to play outside again all evening--with no threat of sunburn. We can catch lightning bugs; we have no fear of the dark. We relish in the sound of crickets chirping and that sweet evening humidity.

Children. They are God's great gift to us. Thank you, God, for allowing me to see the beauty in myself multiplied in a tangible way.  And, thank you, for allowing me the opportunity to see the broken parts of me made whole--as you parent us while we parent them.

(And thanks for the Easter baskets full of treats to celebrate! No toddler needs to eat all that candy alone.........)