Tiny Joys

My sister called me an optimist. It was just the other day when we were on the phone and I tried to shrug it off but it stuck. I am a daily gratitude lister for years now. I am a joy-finder and I pray for mine and my family’s lights to shine daily. I believe in the always-working-to-the-good part of God. I’ve camped out there during difficult seasons and He’s always proven that Truth. Do these things make me an optimist?

In this specific conversation I was saying that I had been praying for our mutual friends to find tiny joys in each day. You know, when the remote is where you left it, when the hot water is just the perfect temp of burn but not scald. When the sun peeks in the morning windows and you can literally feel God. When you hear a phrase that makes you tear up and smile at the same time. When the coffee is fresh and hot and the baked good, that it’s obviously paired with, is gooey and just barely undercooked. When you hear a baby laugh in a public place or see a little girl in lipstick and plastic high heels in the grocery store. When the song plays that makes you worship, hands raised in the carpool line or,that oldie but goodie that gets you dancing in the kitchen. Those are the tiny joys. They happen at home or away, at all times, and any time. They are so small you could miss them, which makes finding them and recognizing them even sweeter. They could almost be nothing but somehow they mean so much. I think women notice them easier because they are packed full of emotion and beauty. Tiny joys feel like windows into heaven or glimpses of the great glory of our Lord. They are the next breath you feel like you can’t take in the hardest moments. Those times in life when the world seems dark and hopeless, tiny joys are the seeds of hope awaiting perfect bloom. Tiny joys heal broken and hurting souls because they sneak into us and tie us back to our Jesus. They remind us of His knowing and working and they help us live again and again and again. 

I don’t know if I would call myself an optimist because I recognize the hard and ugly for what it is but, I am someone who will always believe in better and greater and more beautiful than I could ask or imagine. I try to live with eyes open and always looking up and expecting some bit of heaven, some peace, some love. I find that living this way helps me see the good, literally. I can more easily find the joy and my prayer is that this is always true of me. I pray it for others too. Might we see with our spiritual eyes the goodness of our God in this physical, sometimes broken world. May we always know tiny joys. May we feel whisper kisses of our Heavenly Father and may they fill where we might feel emptied and heal our deepest hurts.

Midnight Prayers

I didn't sleep great last night. I woke up repeatedly with my mind running, my cold feet snuggling, and every time, I was mid-prayer. That's just what I do when I can't sleep, I pray. I learned as child to take my worries to my Father in heaven and I can remember being very young and praying that I wouldn't dream. If I did, I would wake up asking God to take it away.  As I've grown up, I still hate dreaming but I recognize that if God wakes me, it's usually because there is something on my heart that He needs to hear. Last night it was for a friend of mine from back home who is in the midst of a fierce storm. I don't know her specifics but I know that last night, I kept praying that she and hers were resting and that somehow, someway, they would have peace in their hearts. I have prayed for family, for friends, for myself, for this world. I've prayed midnight prayers for my boys and Ryan and for my own broken heart at times.

I think in our society today, prayer is too often overlooked. We see a post or hear a story and we hit the care emoji or we say we are praying, but are we? I know for myself that I too often whisper a sentence and then move on but that's not who I want to be.  I feel like too often I cop out and let my mind go to the next post or the next task and neglect the need. I want to be a warrior for others. I don't think it means always being on my knees but if it does then I want to hit the ground and seek the Lord. I want to be always talking to my Jesus about the things of my day and the people in my circle.

Now let it be know that I am not a fancy pray-er. Our grace is simply thanking Jesus for the food. My prayer journal has very few page long prayers and lots more ramblings and coffee stains. I do know though that when I talk to Jesus, he hears and he answers. He doesn't require big words or lofty ideas. I give him my gratitude first and foremost and then I ask. Maybe it's just for a blessed meal, or a fast day, or a good grade on a test for my boys, or, maybe it's bigger like the strength to keep my mouth closed or healing for a friend.  I am always completely certain that He is listening and that He cares. I have seen the yeses and the nos. I have mourned the closed doors that He knew needed shut and I have seen Him open the ones that were for me to go through. I have seen peace that passes my understanding and joy even in deep grief. I have cried tears of all sorts and known His comfort and healing more than once. 

My encouragement for me and each of us, is that we keep talking to Jesus. Tell him the things that hit our hearts hard and don't just pass the opportunity over. I want my boys and the next generation of believers to know that there is a Father who is always listening. No words are ever wasted on Him. He hears our simple dinner grace, he longs to hear our genuine thanks, and he can handle our sleepless nights and scary dreams. Caring isn't just an emoji, it's the willingness to get on our knees, even in the middle of the night, and seek the throne room for ourselves and for others.  It's doing it over and over again.  It's praying and believing and trusting always that He really is a God who hears and answers. 

In the Eye of the Storm

 I’ve had a heavy heart for a couple weeks now. My struggle has not been for myself but as I’ve watched others facing the wind and waves of some of life’s  fiercest storms, I’ve felt desperation for them. My eyes shed tears for the pain and fear and struggles that life sometimes brings our way. It has felt heavy and heartbreaking and a little hopeless. I’ve asked, in my heart if not out loud, the whys that we all wonder when it just seems too much and not fair. All of us have been through storms, none of escape without some battle scars. It’s hard to live through them and it’s hard to watch others suffer and not have the answers or the help to offer them. 

I’ve also been studying in Job in my quiet time. It’s been tragically ironic in some ways to weep for friends who are facing life’s worst and read about Job, his heartache and his response to it. Job went through the deepest valleys. He lost everything that he valued from children, to health, to wealth, to honor. His friends rejected him and the enemy was relentless in trying to break Job’s spirit. Tonight, though, tonight I read something that gave me some hope. It’s a tiny little verse tucked in Job 40:6. It says that, “God addresses Job in the eye of the storm...” Don’t miss it! “In the eye of the storm”. It’s easy to see only the dark and scary and to feel overwhelmed and even a little hopeless when you’re in the middle of life’s storms. Those moments when your goal is just to not cry for a bit, those times when you can’t look up because your heart is just too heavy. Those are hard times. Dark times feel like God isn’t with us or at least we see no evidence of him. But, thank God for the “but”, Job heard the Lord right there in the eye of the storm, right there in the eerie moment of still and silence, maybe the scariest time of any storm, when he was in the middle of the worst. God spoke and Job survived. If you know the story, you know that before God spoke Job was only seeing and hearing and aware of the loss and suffering but, after God spoke, the storm remained only it didn’t break, instead, it strengthened him. He was restored and redeemed and blessed above and beyond.

We want the answers that we aren’t ready to see and understand. God’s ways are above beyond what we can comprehend, maybe just in this moment or maybe on this side of eternity. That truth doesn’t change the storm but maybe it gives us enough strength, enough hope, to look up to our Heavenly Father, to listen for his voice, even in the midst of the worst. A friend of mine the other day said that God is still writing our stories. I like that. We don’t know our endings, just like Job and his friends didn’t know his. We have to keep living, keep trusting, keep seeking the One who turns all the storms into something good. 

Faith Over Fear

 When the pastor asked the question, my answer came so easily. I was sitting in church today and the pastor asked a question about what would you do if you had no fear of failing. No concerns about the possible outcomes, no comparing myself with others, no fear...immediately I said into my mask, where only me and Jesus could hear, “I’d write more”. 

The sermon was based out of the parable of the talents. Jesus told it and it was meant to help his listeners to understand how we are to live while we are waiting on eternity. Talents are not meant to be hidden or stored but shared and multiplied and lived out. Now, to be clear, I’m not saying that writing is even my talent but I enjoy it and I definitely feel close to my Savior when words are involved. The pastor was explaining how fear is the opposite of faith. Fear is something I do understand some and feel a little too gifted with. Fear of rejection, condemnation, judgement. Fear of being known, of not being known. Fear of failure, fear of feeling overwhelmed. The list could go on and on. But Jesus, he wasn’t about any of those fears. He told us only the only fear is the fear of the Lord and that by having faith we overcome that one. I was reminded that what I should be fearing most is coming to the gates of heaven and realizing that I could’ve done more, that I should’ve done more. I don’t want to worry about all the what if’s in this life. I don’t want to care about how I measure up to anyone else or what anyone thinks of me. I don’t want to plan and prep but never make it to go and do stage.  I want to know that I have done well. I want to hear that I was faithful with what I have been given and that it was, and is, good. Isn’t that the point after all? Fear is not defeated by nothingness but by being obedient in the very something that we are most afraid of. 

Lately I have been reminded that there are so many things that we can’t control. Life is full of situations that we wouldn’t chose but that we have to walk through anyway. There are so many hard and unexplainable and difficult circumstances that I have no answers for. When I’m faced with these realities, so often the only comfort I have to offer is my words. Sometimes it’s in journaled prayers or tearful pleas. Sometimes it’s a note of scripture or a word of encouragement. They seem like so little in the face of life. Literally, just letters on a page. Today I was reminded that whatever I have to offer is what I should give. That’s what is good and that is how I can be faithful and obedient. Today I was reminded to write without fear.

This is my act of worship. This is my step of faith. They might be just words and yet so much more because they are meant to bring glory and point all who might read them to an eternal Father who longs to spend eternity with each of us. As it says in Psalm 56:3-4-“But when I am afraid, I will put my trust in You. I will praise God for what he has promised. I trust in God, so why should I be afraid? What can mere mortals do to me?” I’m choosing faithfulness over fear with my words and my actions! 

Writing it down...

I started a new bible study this month. I can’t even say exactly why but I joined in with a friend who was moving and another local gal. It was a study that involved working through Acts but not just reading, it also asked me to write out certain scripture daily as well. At first, I had no intention of completing the writing part. I justified that it would not be important, I was coming alongside some friends but really no one would know or care if I wrote out scripture. It would waste time and paper and energy. Somehow, though, within the the first week, I found myself with pen in hand and a heart being changed. I have read Acts before and, at first, I noted my previous scribblings and underlines. Then I dug deeper and started let the words work in me. It was subtle and yet not. As I wrote out the few scriptures each day, they had more meaning. I could more easily picture Paul and his journey and his struggles and his prayers. I felt such a stronger connection to the history and power of the the Word. 

I’m a writer by nature. I have long journaled my prayers and my current gratitude list is well into the thousands. I have always appreciated rereading my thoughts and words and absorbing again and again God's good works in my life. My bible bag has a couple different notebooks in there and a pretty notebook waiting to be filled is one of my favorite gifts to receive. Even this blog started as a space to save and share and write down my heart and mind, not because I think the world needs my ramblings but because I feel closer to my Savior when I do so. This new study has abundantly confirmed that for me over the last few weeks. I read one day ahead of schedule and then write from what I’ve already read and the way that it changes my understanding is astounding. It’s not in exactly what I’m writing but that it binds physically and spiritually to the Truth that God inspired to include in his words to us. If the creator and sustainer of life considered something worthy of including in his Word, then surely it is has an eternal power for me and you as well. When I read about Paul or John or Moses, I am hearing a part of their story, and God intends for me to be moved by it. It can be so easy to skip ahead or lose my thoughts a little in the process of reading, even with the best intentions. Writing is different for me. It makes the words go in and through and then back out again. It causes my mind to paint a picture that I can feel and experience and be transformed by on a more spiritual level. Writing makes it personal and concrete and adds value to it. I often tell my boys to think before speaking, words being written, whether copied down or formed from within, naturally are covered in more thought and processed more intimately and thoroughly. It’s the slowing down and soaking in and it transforms, renews, and inspires. 

I guess at my core, I am a lover of words. Books, lyrics, lists...words are powerful when spoken and they are even more valuable when we take the time to write them. I’m so grateful that God caused me to find this new connection to him. My desire is always to be close to my Father. I pray his love and grace and truth both consume and pour out of me. Writing his Word helps me to accomplish that a little more. I would encourage anyone to grab a pen, a page, whisper a prayer and a praise and let his words work through your heart and your hands.

Trusting the Process

Five blankets! Thick, heavy, placed one on top of the other, that’s how my G has his bed arranged. He gets his sleepy vitamin (he now realizes that his vitamins make him sleepy) and after being repeatedly reminded to potty and brush his teeth, after turning on Alexa to Spotify or an audible book, he situates himself under 5 blankets. The funny thing is that we have tried weighted blankets and vests repeatedly through the years and G has repeatedly despised them! He says they feel heavy and uncomfortable and refuses them. G is very educated that he has sensory processing disorder and that he experiences life differently and needs certain sensory input but he still resists what he needs. He shuns what is best for him and often seeks a lesser replacement. Where does he get this tendency? In my heart and yours! When I think of my own lack of accepting what God wants to give me..

I heard a sermon this weekend that spoke of this same sort of situation. The pastor was discussing the process. It’s what comes between the plan and the purpose. We know God has a plan to use us for his purposes but there is something that must happen in the in between and it’s the process. It’s where the molding and the making, the shifting and the shaping, it’s where the higher thoughts and the deeper roots are found and formed. It’s where we get lost sometimes. You see, it often doesn’t feel good. Have you ever kneaded bread? My mom showed me how to make pepperoni rolls from scratch recently. I hastily scribbled down her instructions on an old envelope and a few weeks later felt confident that I could follow her plan and enjoy the end result all on my own. I specifically wrote that the dough had to be kneaded for 15 minutes and I remembered my mom's words to not skip on this hard part. I even remembering commenting on how impressed I was with her pushing and rolling and beating that dough ball. When my turn came though, I got a bit off the plan.. it was hard, and I was tired, and my arms hurt and I had to stand on my tiptoes just to do it and I had something I needed to get to, so I quit a little early. You can probably guess what happened to that batch of rolls, they didn’t turn out at all. They were awful and flat and dry and nothing like they should’ve been. Why? Because I skimped on the process. I tried to go the easy route and the end result showed it. Too often in my life, God has called me down a road I didn’t want to take. I’ve looked ahead and wondered if it would be easier to turn back and go another route. I think of G and when I first felt in my heart that he was different from my other boys, special in his own way.  I told my doctor who thought I might be overreacting and I could've turned back and let it go but I knew God was leading me on. He helped me gave the courage to seek my own evaluations and answers and, although I spent more than a few tears feeling scared and sad and overwhelmed, I am so glad that I didn’t skimp on the process. In the end I have a beautiful boy who amazes and blesses and teaches me every day.  I didn't understand the whole plan, and really I still don't, but I'm trusting daily in the process and the purpose.

Last month was one year since we moved from our hometown to our new town. We noted it as a family and talked about it over dinner and while sitting on the back porch. The consensus was unanimous. It’s all good and ok. The year has not been the easiest. There were new schools and friends and teams and schedules. We had to find a new church and new normals. We had some kidney stones and Ryan's belly got sketchy and required new meds and treatments. We started new traditions and enjoyed new experiences. We visited and vacationed and FaceTimed and portaled. We cried a few tears and grew our personal fruits of patience and kindness and gentleness. It’s been a process for sure and one that’s still happening but we all agreed that we are grateful. It has made us closer and stronger and more intentional and brave. It’s a shaping and a shifting, a molding and a making, a plan different from our own but we’re trusting with every step. And really, that’s the point. We get to our purposes by living out God's process every day faithfully. We trust for today and for all the tomorrows and when we fear or worry or are weak, we lean in a bit closer and grow a bit closer. Kneading takes time and effort, but in the end it’s worth it. All good things, like parenting, marriage, love, courage, they take time and effort and deep roots and big faith, but they are worth it. 
I’m going to close with a prayer that I found from a few years ago in my devotional. It made me smile and filled my eyes with mom tears but it speaks such truth for then and for now. Yes, Lord and amen! No matter what today brings help me to thank you. Thank you for life and for living it abundantly. Thank you for high fives that are smaller than mine. Thank you for doctors and diagnosis and odds beaten before they are even given. Thank you for all and everything....may this be my heart this day and everyday. Thank you Lord for the plan, the process and the purpose. 

Stairway to Heaven

The bacon burned. The toilet was clogged. The sun wasn't shining. The rain was falling. It wasn't even 7am and I was already defeated. I climbed into my tub, turned the water on, not ready to meet my Savior but not ready for the day either. I should've known. I should've seen it coming. God speaks when we can do nothing but listen. I feel him most when I am stripped back to nothing and he shines brightest in my dark every single time.

I'm reading through Genesis right now. I started it during our stay at home. It felt right to go back to the basics, the beginning, and wonder at our Creator for a time. This particular morning I was reading about Jacob and his ladder dream. Jacob was out on a trip or more like getting out of dodge. He was fleeing from his own mistakes and deceit and didn't deserve to get a visit from the Almighty, but then again, none of us do. It's night and so he sets a stone under his head to sleep. My first question was why a stone? Maybe he wasn't really wanting to sleep, knows he needs to keep one eye open, just in case. He's certainly not in a good place in his life. He's ugly and wrong and completely guilty (with a little help from his mom). He's running away and his life is far from normal or acceptable or easy. I can't help but wonder if he felt like I do sometimes and questioned where the path of his life was heading and if he even wanted to go that down that road. There are times when life's circumstances feel more like dead ends than detours and I feel like I just want to make a quick u-turn. I have doubted the perfect rightness of the hard roads that God has led me down at different times in my life. I have felt that recently with all the change and weirdness and anxiousness in our world. I have had nights where I felt like I too was sleeping on stones.

So, here's Jake, laying down to sleep, sort of, and suddenly he sees a vision. It's not actually of a ladder like the child's game but the scripture says that it is of a stairway, with the Lord at the top. The visual of this on my grumpy dreary morning inspired me to dig deeper, a stairway to heaven, I'd take that. Lots of us would! Except, maybe I wouldn't. That specific morning I could also easily imagine myself starting up those steps and then getting frustrated or angry and flopping my sorry self on one of those steps, crossing my arms, and giving up. It's too steep. It's too hard. My legs hurt and I'm tired. My heart is weary and I quit. I question, why this way God? Why so many steps and why does it have to be so hard? Sometimes I want to fuss and stomp and cry, throw a good fit and just stop. Sometimes I just don't want to do it anymore, like sleeping on a stone, I'm over it! But, there's always a "but", but, God makes a promise as Jacob, and I and, maybe you, are looking up that long stairwell. He reaches down, grabs us by the hand and helps us stand back up. He says in Genesis 28:15, "What's more, I am with you and I will protect you wherever you go...I will not leave you until I have finished giving you everything I have promised you." Jacob had a long way to go in life and there would be seasons that felt like uphill climbs and wrong turns but God would always be with him. Let that soak in. He's there through our grief, our loneliness, our guilt and our shame. He's there when it feels like no one else is. He's there when we want to throw the towel in and admit defeat. He's there when we don't get what we deserve and when we get exactly what we deserve. When the way looks dark and the storms are pouring down around us, he's there. He won't leave or quit or give up on us. He's going to help and hold and stay and he will most certainly fulfill all of his promises.

From burnt bacon to blessings, that is God's way. He picks us up, dusts us off and leads us on up the stairway, to his throne room, to his glorious goodness. That morning, I looked straight up and knew that he had given me a glimpse of heaven and it was enough, more than enough.  I heaved my tired self out of the tub. I listed my gratitude and wrote out my prayer. I did the day, the mom things, the teaching things, the wife things. It wasn't a perfect day but I knew I could and would keep climbing because it's always worth it with him. His way, his promises, eternity with him are worth every single step.