hiatus

So I have been M.I.A. I’ve wanted to blog. In fact, I’ve probably written 50 posts in my head since the last one I published. There are a few drafts in the works too. Truth is I don’t want to blog if my blogging isn’t peppered with happy tones and giggles. I don’t want to be dishonest either. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could breeze thru life happily, giggling along the way all of the time? Here’s the truth…I have been more unhappy in the last year of my life than ever before. And I have longed for laughter. Here’s another truth…happiness isn’t the most important thing. Holiness is. Leaning into and learning from God’s presence is. So I have been stuck in a state of unhappiness forgetting all about the hope and the joy that was given to me to keep and treasure as mine all mine for always. Instead of focusing on the eternal things, I have literally had day after day that I longed to just lie down and give up. Say forget it. Who cares? Whatever! Because I have been focusing on things that don’t really matter.

Don’t fret. I am not talking about leaving this world forever because it all seems too hard to handle. I literally mean I have wanted to lie down and not do a thing and give up entirely. And believe me, some days I have done just that. I can’t share all of the details. Some would make your hair curl. There are parts of my life that feel more like a novel plot or movie scene at the moment, and I would really like to make my exit from the story. It isn’t one of those romantic comedies or feel good types. {I can’t say more without sharing information that isn’t mine to share.} Then there is the whole insanity that is my house right now. Concrete, dusty floors for 5 entire months and not feeling like I can settle and move in completely until the floors eventually go down. {Oh, please may the floors be in before this baby arrives in September!} And everywhere I look there is chaos. And no safe, soft place to land. So I am tired. And I just want to lie down. Give up.

A couple of Mondays ago I finally reached the breaking point. I finally lost it. I just cried and cried and cried and cried. It was the first morning of one of two Summer Bible studies that I am attending. And just like God has proved time and time again, His timing is perfect. That very morning I walk into a Bible study in a building I’ve never stepped foot in before and hear the leader talk in a way that spoke directly, intimately into my heart. She spoke about wanting to just  literally fall on the floor and not get up because things in our life have made us feel totally dejected. Or as my dear Anne of Green Gables would say, life had brought me into “the depths of despair.” It felt like too much to take on and bear the weight of so it stopped me in my tracks and literally left me feeling immobile. To hear this woman talk about despair in the exact same way it had made me feel…you can’t imagine the energy it took to hold back the tears in a room with 100 women who I simply couldn’t be vulnerable with yet.

God and His timing. Turns out I am not alone. He reached His hand down that morning. More likely, I finally looked up long enough to see it there and grab hold. Why do I forget how much He cares? Why do I not believe that He has a salve for every single hurt and wound? Why don’t I trust that His strength and power is available to me and for me all of the time? How could I have forgotten that happiness is not His goal for me, but holiness is and that hope and joy are literally rights given to me that no one or no thing could take from me; Christ secured my hope and my joy. What a relief. Do I feel happy all of the time since that Monday morning’s break through? Nope! Do I have renewed faith and hope that things are going to get better and do I find joy in God’s Word and promises? Yep! Do I have hope that God isn’t through with me yet and that I am a work in progress? Uuuuuummmmm, definitely! Do I find joy in watching Him work and seeing evidence of that in my life and the lives of others? Sure do.

So I am in the process of reorienting my focus and regaining perspective though my circumstances have not changed. I am moving forward, even if it means slowly with timid baby steps through my circumstances at the moment. At least I am moving! And I am loving this verse right now because circumstances are only implied while the things that are certain are God’s character and the promises that come from being in His presence… “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

So I am going to start blogging again. Even when it isn’t pretty. Because maybe someone will read it who needs to know they aren’t alone or someone needs a little encouragement and something I say may resonate for them. And I am going to blog again because in the midst of the chaos and the dark days, I have plenty of “happy” to share too. After all, there is a baby on the way! And I am married to my best friend! And God has placed fabulous people in my life to pour into me!   

that thing i kept avoiding

Soooooooo…I have this problem. I like to be super organized. And for the most part I am super organized when it comes to my classroom stuff because I don’t think I would function well otherwise. However, I am also busy, busy, busy with project after project after project. And I get excited and I tend to move on before I should. Which means sometimes what started off as super organized ends up as not so organized at all once the project or unit is said and done. Catch my drift or am I talking in circles here? 

For about 3 years I was lackadaisical when it came to filing in the classroom. {Baaaaaaaaad idea!} I felt like there was so much begging for my attention and energy that I’d catch up on my filing one day. This resulted in a full {and heavy} box of papers that had not been filed. I tackled those papers months ago and finished filing all of it after about a month. The other day I decided to take my files further and break them down a bit more. And now in the midst of the Christmas bins and moving boxes you will find the mess pictured here.  

Why now? Why would I decided to take all of my files out of the filing cabinets and file everything away by subject area? Well, because I don’t know when else I’m going to do it and I’m not sure if my files will be easy to get to once they are stored away in the new house. I know this will make my teaching life so much easier whenever I go back to teaching. I was always able to find things I needed because everything was alphabetized, but this is going to be so much better. 

Please tell me there is another teacher out there who can relate! Does anyone else feel like the only way to stay sane in the classroom is to be super clean and organized, but has a closed closet full of hidden unfiled papers or something like that? I really hope so because I feel like I am partially confessing to get this secret off my chest and partially because I want to be honest so that other teachers who beat themselves up over not being perfect {like me} can feel like they aren’t alone! 

Well, I am off to file away and be done with this by tonight. Lesson learned here…file everyday, even if it’s just for 10 minutes and even if planning for the next unit sounds like way more fun.

1000

This last week I got to my One Thousandth Gift in my gratitude journal. I remember thinking all along as I got closer and closer to #1,000 that I hoped it would be cool, because some days I can write down fifteen things I am thankful for and on others I struggle to write one. So, I thought...what if my one thousandth gift comes on one of those days? And it sort of did.

I've been going through something. It's been in the works for a long time now. And these last few weeks have been hard because I've begun to really deal with that. I think I have been running after and away from the wrong things. For a long time now. And I have started to put those things in their proper places. Slowly. Because old, bad habits die hard, painful deaths.

I have begun to tip-toe away from perfectionism and ideals and it-ought-to-be-this-ways. It's hard to do that. I mean, I put so much pressure on myself and others and it's hard not to because that self-imposed pressure, in all of it's unhealthy glory, gives me a sense of control. So when I am tempted to turn around and pick up one of those idealistic perfectionisms and hold them close to my heart I have to retrain my focus and remind myself what it's all about. Not me. It is not about me. It is about Him. Pursue Him. His Word. His Presence. His Spirit. Him. It is about Him.

My life is not my own. It was a gift. And not only did He give me that, but He did something even wilder. He died to bring me life, abundant and full. And He gave me His Word and the Holy Spirit that I might know Him and know that He is with me.  And when I am running after His heart and His Word, I am pursuing knowledge, wisdom, peace, joy, etc. in the only How-To Manual that I can rely on. The one I have been authoring is quite useless; I can assure you because it is full of impossible expectations and is riddled with formula after formula for failure.

So I am really grateful for change. Though it hurts and it's hard. I am grateful for admitting how flawed I am and how prideful I have been because it takes the pressure off...in a weird way. I am grateful that God loves me and that He is patient and faithful and would never chide me for my foolishness, that He accepts me and loves me as I am. A total mess. And that He calls me out in love through His Word, but doesn't expect me to fix myself on my own because He reassures me that messes are His specialty and if I let Him, He will do the fixing.

And I am grateful that He gave me a wonderful husband because in this world we live in wonderful husbands and good men are rare. But God gave me this amazing man who can handle this mess. Without judgement. Without anger. Without resentment. Without fill-in-the-blank with a sentiment that would be perfectly acceptable and deserved. And he loves me where I am at too. A mess. And he helps me see that this mess, me, I am beautiful because I am a work in progress, not an ideal of beauty to be attained eventually through my self-imposed pressures and perfectionisms.

what has God been teaching you lately

My friend Jenny is someone I miss spending time with greatly. We went to UCF together, but after graduation she moved to another state and though we've kept in touch it has been years since we have been able to sit down in a coffee shop together. The reason I bring Jenny up now is because of a particular question she always asked me. It always came after we were settled in our chairs with our warm cups in hand. She would look at me and say, "So, what's God been teaching you lately?" I miss questions and conversations like that.

If Jenny were here I'd tell her this...

There are days when I take the time to sit at His feet, listen, reflect, and process in order to apply. There have been far too many days when I have chosen other things instead. The days in which I have chosen to learn, God has been faithful to reveal Himself to me, and I am grateful He hasn't held my frivolity and faithlessness against me.

For months I have felt the tug and gentle whisper on my heart to focus a good deal of my time on the study of prayer and the study of words. I finally began those journeys this week. I read A Praying Life by Paul Miller about a year ago, but I read it quickly. I decided to re-read it and really camp out among the pages to hear what God has to say and to reveal about my approach to Him in prayer.

As far as words go...I think I am careless with them. I think I talk too much and often too soon. I think I say things without thinking. I won a print from Naptime Diaries awhile ago and I chose the print with Proverbs 15:4 for a reason...I need the reminder. I am going to spend some time learning more about what He has to say about the power of words, reflect on my own, and I am going to do my best to apply what I learn. My mannual will be God's Word and my guide and teacher will be the Holy Spirit. This lesson is going to hurt. To be perfectly honest, it scares me.

Nothing huge. No major revelations or profound thoughts. Just pursuing things that I know I ought to.

Jenny, I miss you and I wish I could process some of this with you over a cup of joe!

absences and updates

I have not been blogging much lately because I have been playing with these two…








Cutie Pie and Little Man are down for a few weeks and we have been busy, busy, busy!!!

I have not taken nearly enough pictures, but rest assured I will still post several.

In other news, Sonia is out of the hospital and doing so much better. We have had picnics in the park, Starbucks dates, and hang out time.











She is healing well and has grown up quite a bit since she first arrived. She is a lot stronger, cutting her first tooth, and waving hello and bye-bye. I had the honor of caring for her during the church service last Sunday and I was on cloud nine. I love that baby girl! She has to go back to Haiti in 2 weeks and I am so sad about it. Keep her in your prayers! Pray for her continued progress with her health. Pray for her safety and protection. Pray for her future. Pray for her adoption and for her adoptive family. I know God is taking care of her. It’s very evident that His plans for her are based upon His timing and His resources for her good and His glory. I trust that she will be adopted into a loving home that is perfect for her and that was planned for long ago. My heart will still ache when she is gone and I stop and wonder often how I came to love her so knowing she’d go back. The thought crosses my mind…maybe I should have guarded my heart a bit more. But I know that’s just the part of me that doesn’t like to hurt. Caring for her and loving her was exactly what she needed and doing so has taught me a few things about life, babies, and myself.

days like today

Today is the last day of school, but I'm not there. This year has been...different. I chose last summer to stay home this school year. The biggest, toughest decision of my life to date. I love teaching. I am comfortable with it. It thrills me and ignites passion in me. I come alive from it and through it because I know God built me for it and called me to it. So you might ask why on earth I wouldn't go back...and believe me there are days that I ask myself the same thing.

It's been a lonely year much of the time. I thrive on relationships, interaction, conversation, and nurturing. Day in and day out in the classroom I had all of those things, plus some. The creativity was unleashed and I felt empowered by it. I taught with joy and enthusiasm and I think I did it well. Not to have all that has been really, really hard. Some days I feel like I'm lost and it really gets me down. And because of that I now know beyond the shadow of a doubt what teaching means to me and that I really have been given a gift for it. 

I definitely derive a lot of my confidence from my teaching career. Parent's requesting me and writing letters of praise to me and for me to my superiors. Children drawing pictures for me and visiting me daily and hugging me tightly to let me know I've made a difference. Colleagues telling me I've done such a fabulous job in such a short amount of time. Sure, it feels good and it gives me a sense of self-worth and identity. 

And that's just it. It gave me such a sense of security that I poured every ounce of energy and free time I had into it. With little to no room left for family or for me. Teaching for me became me. There would be no me without a perfect classroom and adoring children and happy parents and impressed colleagues. And all that takes an awful lot of work. Rewarding and satisfying work, yes, but at a high cost. I did not know balance. 

So I chose to take this year to re-evaluate some things and to re-prioritize my life. I spent more time with my husband...time in which I was actually focused on him and not cutting something out for the next big project while half listening. I got to know my youngest sister as I picked her up from school each day. Priceless. I came home to a house that may not have been perfectly tidy everyday, but at least there weren't school papers and projects strewn about the couch, the floor, the coffee table, the dining room table, the foyer, and the office. I also needed to take the time off for my health. I want a baby and this body of mine needs a lot of rest and a lot less stress to make that happen. I spent some time on me, too. I journaled and read and processed. I went to see a counselor and began some self work that I had been wanting to start for years and years. I felt free and open and awake and much less distracted. 

Yes, it has been hard not to do what feels like second nature to me. It has been quite the adjustment not to derive my being, my happiness, my self-worth from my job. Yes, there are days I feel really depressed about it and regret my choice. But I knew there would be sacrifices when I made the decision to stay home. {insert sadness here for not having the joy of cute, toothless smiles and Target shopping sprees on the regular anymore.}

So on days like today when I ought to be celebrating an accomplished school year with "my kids", I  have chosen to reflect on my decision not to and to also reminisce on the wonderful years and experiences I have had while in the classroom. I'm not handing in my pointer and my guided reading crown permanently anytime soon. I've definitely got some teaching left to do...but for now and until who knows when, the teaching must wait while I do some learning of my own.

Here are some pictures of my teaching days. They bring so much joy to my heart!

The extent of my dressing up takes place for the school parties...I am not cool enough to attend grown up Halloween festivities. 

One year I could not keep the pencil cups full to save my life! I begged for parents to donate pencils every week because we NEVER had enough! Then one day I discovered that a certain student had been stockpiling pencils in his pencil box. I could not stop laughing.

There are a gazillion others that I wish I could post here, but who has the time for the posting and the looking...and you probably don't want to see them all anyway.  ;)

One thing is for certain...I've got  a lot of printing of pictures and photo album organizing to do! Perhaps I should have spent some time doing that this school year!

I made the right choice this year, even though it was hard and it hurt a lot of the time. There are things I learned and gained that I wouldn't have had I been in the classroom. Maybe one day I'll blog about some of those things. 

BSF edition

This blog post covers numbers 150.-159. on my way to counting up to One Thousand Gifts.

I have committed to posting the things that I am thankful for and sharing them here with a community of bloggers. Usually I literally copy the list from my journal onto a post, but this week I am going to have to devote an entire post to BSF because my heart simply cannot contain all the gratitude and joy from my experience within a list. So much can be said about what BSF has meant to me so I will do my best to organize my thoughts here. Whenever I doubt my decision not to teach this year and stay home I think of BSF and my doubts vanish. The Wednesday mornings from this last September until this May were meant to be spent at BSF for me; in a classroom that did not belong to me.

The ladies at BSF and my discussion group:

The ladies in my discussion group were such beautiful encouragers to me. Most of them probably have no idea I feel that way. I have always been a talker, a person who wears their heart on their sleeve and just might share too much. But this year in my group I found myself to be so quiet. God was prompting this silence for my heart. I needed to listen more this year than share. So I did. Most weeks I may have said one thing here or there, but for the most part I sat and listened and soaked it all in. The wisdom, passion, sorrow, struggle, faith, and humility of these women were the water for my soul and they allowed me to grow.

Each week I sat in a sanctuary with 400+ women and surveyed the room with awe and wonder. Here we all were because we shared the same longing. We were desperate to know more of our Lord and His Word and we felt and knew that Wednesday mornings were hallowed ground for our travel weary hearts. We came together, a sisterhood, who may not have recognized one another's faces, but who recognized one another's heart hunger. That is something so sweet and so dear to me. A room of 400+ women, who sing praises and promises together on Wednesday mornings in preparation for an eternity when we will all come together and do it again.

The Children's Program:

I don't have children of my own yet, but I cannot sing the praises of the children's program at BSF enough! I volunteered in the kids classes and witnessed first-hand how incredible the teaching of these tender hearts is at BSF. I loved watching the teachers share the stories, lead discussions, pray for and with the kids, and sing songs. There is nothing more precious than a toddler talking excitedly about Jesus! I also have the privilege of calling a BSF mom, friend, and she shared story after story of the things her kids were learning, discussing, and applying to their lives at the ripe old age of 2 and 3. I am excited and hopeful that I will be a mom someday, and when that day comes I will be so eager to bring them with me to BSF.

Please visit my friend's blog and read her account of what the children's program has meant to her and her family. You will be blessed!

My wonderful leader and Barbara:

The leadership at BSF has ministered to my heart in a way that will leave a lasting impact. I have been encouraged, challenged, humbled, and inspired by them. My discussion leader was a constant source of encouragement to me. She always had words of wisdom and a story to share that helped us relate to one another. I looked forward to her calls each week, and was always so disappointed when I missed them. Her peace and calm spoke volumes to me. She taught me so much.

Then there are the teaching leaders who lecture each Wednesday morning. They are incredible women of faith whose insights and gift for communication blessed me so much each week. I wish every woman in the area would come to experience the lecture for yourself. You will feel as though you've gained a friend who is speaking right into your life wherever you're at.  

Friendships that have blossomed:

BSF has been a blessing in the friend department, too. God brought some seriously sweet friends into my life through this year's study. I, like the Israelites in the desert with Moses, was grumbling and heart heavy because I did not have what I felt like I needed. And though He did not have to, He sent me manna straight from Heaven in the form of beautiful encouragers. I longed for deeper friendships. I longed for real conversations. I longed to talk about and hear about the moving and changing God was doing in another woman's life. Those are my favorite type of conversations and I had gone so long without. But that all changed this year when God brought me to BSF and gifted me with one friend who manages to look like the cover of an Anthro catalogue while chasing 3 under the age of 4 with grace and another friend who's smile and joy makes her more beautiful and radiant with each coffee date. I am blessed to call them my friends! 

God's Word and His character:

The most valuable gain through BSF was spending so much time each week really delving into the Word. Isaiah is an incredible book and I learned so much. I learned some history. I learned how faithful God has always been. I've learned about who He is in greater depth and I find that I love Him more now than ever before. I have more faith and trust in Him than ever before. I have a greater peace in seeing the evidences of His sovereignty and His great love throughout the book of Isaiah because I know that He is the same yesterday, today, and forever more. Words cannot adequately express how sweet it is has been to camp out in the book of Isaiah and hear God whisper right into my soul.

what i am not saying

Past 1% change updates:

1. The Elliptical - we hit a snag. I was doing great. I was so impressed with my own resolve and gained endurance, and then Tuesday I made myself finish out the last 30 minutes even though I thought I might end up losing my right foot. My toes were numb and the soles of both my feet were burning. SO I worked out at home with corny workout videos just so I'd be doing something in order to give my feet a break and to figure out how to fix the problem. I am glad to report that I have missed the elliptical. I really have.

2. Gluten and sugar free for a week - I did quite well. However, I did not even try Easter Sunday. I had two homes in which I would be sharing a meal and I was not about to bring my own food or request a menu change so I ate some glutened dishes and I chose to have a small slice of chocolate cake. The rest of the week I did great, except for the 2 Ritz crackers I ate at BSF when I was taking care of the toddlers {I plumb forgot about my own challenge.} and the chocolate Easter candy I ate when I was feeling sorry for myself because I couldn't go to the elliptical {Try making sense out of that one. I know!} Other than that I rocked it and I impressed myself. So I am going to continue the challenge. {After I eat a cinnamon roll from Knaus Berry Farm. They are closing up shop until November people!}

Jessi over at Naptime Diaries has challenged her friends and readers with a new challenge this week in her 1% change campaign. She asked her readers these questions, "What is the thing you've struggled with that you've stopped talking to the Lord about? Maybe you don't talk to the Lord about anything, why not start? If we have a loving Father who wants His absolute best for us, why do we stop asking Him for help? Why do we stop telling Him what's on our hearts?" 


I let her know that this is my favorite challenge yet. These very things she brings up are so true for myself. I definitely keep things from Him. Not in the way of a child trying to cover up a mistake or a friend trying to keep a secret. I just don't think to go "there" in my prayers because it never really occurred to me that I needed to. And if it had occurred to me then the right words or approach seemed to be lost on me so I never put in much effort.


But when I think of these things that I am not talking to Him about. These things that I am not searching His heart on. I realize how deeply they affect me and how much they weigh me down and I am truly dumbfounded that I simply never put in much thought about it before Jessi posed the questions.  So I am really going to make an effort each day to start uncovering those places in my heart that I've kept hidden from Him for such a long time. I am really excited about this 1% change because in my experience with God, He is always so faithful to listen and tend to a sincere cry for being known, challenged, and changed.

  

the main event

I still have Easter heavy on my heart. I thought the chance to blog about it had passed, but shouldn't we live Easter Sunday daily really? I am not talking about the Easter bunny here. I am talking about the real reason for the most important holiday in a Believer's year -- Christ died with my sin on His perfect shoulders and 3 days later rose from the grave and conquered sin and death forever. Now that is something to celebrate!

Do you ever feel like the holiday comes and goes without much thought even though it is the most significant? I think it's really easy to go to church and get caught up in the picnics, the egg hunts, the services, the activities, and never really take in the weight of what we are actually celebrating.

A man came from Heaven to earth to live, love, and die! He was seated on a Throne and He got up and walked away from it with the intention to usher me into that very same Throne room one day. He lived a lowly life. One that many would scoff at then and still do now. He was simple. He was not a man people would flock to for His charm and good looks, yet thousands would crowd cities and hillsides to spend hours and days basking in His Words and in His Presence. He came on a mission, to preach the Good News, to heal, and to set people free.

Free.

Yet many were out to kill Him from the moment they heard Him speak. People outraged at this Man who would heal and love on the Sabbath broke laws themselves to see to it that He die quickly. Law keepers and abiders chained by their own hatred and sin would break their own laws to see an innocent Man, who came to set them free, die a gruesome death.

All the while He quietly, calmly, gently drank from the cup that the Father gave Him. He stood silently before His accusers and took the insults of the mob. He was beaten, spat on, lashed, and humiliated without a complaint. Did He think of me when He thought He couldn't bear one more single blow? Was it my face and my heart that kept Him on the path leading to Calvary as He carried the very Cross on which He would die?

He endured more physical pain than I can imagine or will ever know. So that I wouldn't have to.

But what is worse, He endured a separation from the Father because the weight of all mankind's sins sat on His tender shoulders. The Father turned His face away from the Son He loved because He could not stand to look at Him any longer.

I did that. I do that. Everyday the Serpent brings me a shiny new apple and I bite into it.

But Jesus did that for me. He took my place so that I would never know a single moment in which the Father would refuse to look at me. And so now while I still have the juice from the apple dribbling down my chin, all I need do is come into the Presence of the Father and say "I repent" and He accepts me.

Jesus died on an ugly cross, he was laid in a dank, dark tomb, and 3 days later He came forth. He rose from the dead. He rose from the dead and He gave me life.

Life.

He came so that I might have life and have it abundantly. Not just life in the day to day, but life in the moment to moment. Joy in places that seem dark. Peace in places that seem turbulent. Grace in places that seem insurmountable. Love in the places that seem unlovely.

I love Him. I've never loved anyone more and I never will. He is good to me. And I can't wait for the day when I will tell Him to His face what Easter meant to me.

my worth

This year I have been doing an in depth study of the book of Isaiah. It's been challenging! I have learned so much and there are weeks when I can hardly process all that's coming at me through God's Word because it's so deep and so rich.

Last week's lesson has just really stuck with me this week.

I grew up going to Sunday school. As a little girl I hung on every word the church ladies spoke on Jesus. I had a serious fascination with Him and I knew that He had done something huge to prove He loved me. I remember going up to the front of the church when I was 8 years old to declare my association with Him. I couldn't get there fast enough; I was so excited.

But with time came new priorities and a busy schedule. Despite His love for me, my love for Him dimmed and became less apparent. Less exciting. 

This week I can't stop thinking about and reading through Isaiah 52:13-53:12.

Jesus is Amazing.

At BSF, the lecturer put it this way..."He accomplished redemption and He is satisfied in His success. He is satisfied because we are justified before the Father. Jesus, satisfied Servant and exalted King, considered justifying sinners worth the suffering He endured on the cross."

The word "worth" has been emblazoned at the forefront of my thoughts all week. Worth.

The horrors He went through were worth it because it meant He could save me. He could keep me.

How often do I thank Him for enduring so much because He valued me more?

Try this out: Read Isaiah 53:4-6 and insert your name in the blanks like this...

Surely He took up Shannon's pain

and bore her suffering,

yet she considered Him punished by God,

stricken by Him, and afflicted.

 But He was pierced for Shannon's transgressions,

He was crushed for Shannon's iniquities;

the punishment that brought her peace was on Him,

and by His wounds Shannon is healed.

 Shannon, like a lamb, has gone astray,

she has turned to her own way;

and the LORD has laid on Him

the iniquity of Shannon.

This is an important passage. There is more in that paragraph than there is in any book on this green earth. And unpacking it, applying it, and appreciating it will take a lifetime. A lifetime well spent.

"the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day(s)"

This last week or so has just been “one of those weeks.” Nothing seems to go smoothly. You know what I’m talking about. All of the cookbooks fall over when you reach for one on the top of the fridge…again. The pickle jar is sealed so tight you can’t open it and you’re home alone. You play phone tag with the 15 people you are trying to talk to or make an appointment with or get information from. You realize the one thing you really want to wear is at the bottom of the hamper and no amount of perfume and Downy Wrinkle release is going to make it presentable. You have a headache…again. You are missing an ingredient for the recipe you were planning on making for dinner. You’re running late…again. You’re hair is being difficult and won’t go up the way you want it to no matter how many times you try beating it into submission. One of those weeks.



And those are just some of the things that got to me this week and those things don’t even matter. My heart was in that state these last several days. It felt knocked down, closed off, alone, all over the place, disheveled and forgotten, hurt, forgetful, always one step away from a breakthrough, and defiant . I was upset with some of my circumstances. I was disappointed in the way I had handled some things. My feelings got hurt and I was rehashing things from the past. I had dropped the ball and had not met some goals. I felt like I was going backwards. I felt like there was too much on my plate and I just wanted to have it easy…for once. I was feeling downright defeated.


Then I did the stupidest thing ever. I didn’t pray. I didn’t read my Bible. I didn’t seek His face.


And I stayed down.


Defeated.


Then Wednesday morning came and it was time to go to BSF. I was running late…because of my hair. I also had not done my lesson for the second time ever and was not excited about going to the discussion without having done my lesson. Did I mention I had a headache? So we all meet in the sanctuary to sing a few hymns and pray before we go into our discussion groups and the songs begin lifting my spirits and the state of my heart a bit even though I missed most of them. (I am sure the woman standing behind me looked upon the state of my hair, understood why I was rushing in mid-hymn, and immediately felt sorry for me.) Then we were dismissed and I go to class. And as always, the energetic passion these women have for Jesus and the way God restores things throughout history and our little lives begins to resonate in me. My heart began to open up and I felt camaraderie with them all as I sat and listened to the things they shared. My heart began to focus as verse after verse was read and I was reminded that the God who I love and who claims me as His own was not done fixing me up and that He always remembered me. And as I allowed my heart to remember and the healing to wash over me I felt like I was coming back to the place I had been just a couple of weeks ago when I was allowing God to really work on my heart and break through some tough stuff. I sat there and wondered why on earth I would ever have a defiant spirit toward a God so tender, so loving, and so wise.


Has my week gotten any better? Honestly? Not really. The pickle jar is still too tight and my hair is still defiant, but my heart is in a much better place so I can handle it a bit better. Things won’t always go my way, whether it be recipes or circumstances. But I’m learning that a hurting, seeking heart in the hands of the Father is much more pliable and resilient than a hurting, defiant heart left to itself.

home is where your heart is

If you know me well at all, then you know that I talk about the 407 as if it is the Promised Land. Although I grew up in Miami, the six years I lived in Orlando were enough for me to make it and call it home. When I left Miami I didn’t look back and I had no intention of returning. Then I found out that I would have to move back because of Andrew’s job. I was not happy about it. I came back here with my heels firmly dug and dragging in the dirt. I held onto my 407 area code as if it would save me from my reality, and the day I had it switched to 305 I went into mourning. Would I ever get back home? Was this really it?


Miami is so not me. I am not flashy. I am not designer. I am not artsy or well cultured. I am not rich. I do not have the body it takes to walk around in Spandex as if it were considered an acceptable outfit. I do not speak Spanish. I am not of Latin decent. I do not have a fancy car. I do not desire to have a night life. I don’t party. I do not know how to dress the part, act the part, and speak the part of a Miamian.

I need community. I long to have friends that are willing to be vulnerable and real. I need a church where the Gospel is preached and not diluted. I want to live in a neighborhood where the neighbors actually speak to each other. I want good schools for my future children. I want to be surrounded by people, who for the most part, are nice and considerate of others. I want to live in a quieter place where the mantra of me me me isn’t heard in the buzz and the go go go of the city.

So for a really long time I lived here in Miami, but I only loved Orlando. I wouldn’t even think about giving Miami a chance. I thought about Miami as a very temporary place for me to lay all my stuff down for awhile. I had written it off and was just looking forward to the day when I could pack up all my stuff and finally take it home. I didn’t think that all the things I “needed” to consider a place home could be found here. So I never looked.

I am an extremely relational person. Andrew will tell you that the first time I meet practically anyone, I am making plans to become the very best of friends with them or thinking of ways that I can help them and he has to bring me back to reality and remind me that it isn’t always best or possible to be great friends with everyone we meet. Miami people tend not to be relational at all. So I whined and complained and cried about how much I needed a kindred spirit. I had never had a season in life in which I did not have a best friend close by and I did not know what to do with myself!

So I got desperate. I finally turned to the God who claimed me long ago for comfort and for friendship. I am stubborn so this complete and not just partial reliance on Him to fill this void in my heart only took 3 years or so. I began spending more time in prayer seeking His presence and asking Him to change my heart so that I could love others through His eyes. I sought His Word more, like I did in the old days, and it calmed my heart. I still thought about Orlando, but I didn’t feel panic for not being back there yet. And then the strangest things began to happen. I found a kindred spirit right here in Miami. I began to appreciate and love my church. I found community. I started seeing what a gorgeous city Miami is and how much it has to offer.

God is sweet, good, and faithful like that. Psalm 37:4 says, “take delight in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Please don’t misunderstand what I am saying here. God is not a genie in a bottle. He did not give me what I wanted because I did something right. I sought Him out. I let go of my wants and realized that He needed to come first and that I needed to change my heart and the only way I could do it would be through prayer and reading His Word. Yes, He did give me the friend I had longed for, but I wouldn’t have made that friend if it wasn’t for going to BSF to study His Word. Yes, He gave me a great church and community, but I didn’t see what I had in them until I began to seek Him out in the matter. He gives us the desires of our hearts. He realigns our hearts. When we seek Him we gain new perspective and we learn that home is where He sends us and has us right now.

from our table to yours

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

As we prepare for tonight's feast I have been really trying to think about what I am thankful for in my life. Several years ago I began a Thanksgiving Journal. In this journal, I record one liners of the things I am thankful for before drifting off to sleep. I have noticed that the most content seasons of my life have been when I am the most consistent at counting my blessings on the pages of this journal. Some of the lines in that journal read silly things like, "laughing with a dear friend until my cheeks and belly hurt". While others are much more serious like, "the Lord gave me Psalm 25 just when I thought my heart would break from lack of hope". 

I know today means different things for different people. I know some people loathe this holiday for the fact that it really was born during a time of fear and uncertainty and marked the end to life as some people knew it way back in Plimoth in the 1600s. Regardless of how you feel about this day, one thing is certain for all of us...a spirit of Thanksgiving and Gratitude should be one we carry throughout life, day in and day out. 

So today here are the things that are at the top of my Gratitude list that you can find on the pages of my journal:

• I am married to a guy who is awesome and loves me even though I am not always so lovable. 
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• I have been blessed, encouraged, and supported by that same man to take this year off from teaching, to remember why I loved it in the first place, while I substitute teach and focus my time and energy on our home, my health, and my relationships. 
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• I have amazing friends stretching from San Francisco to New York City whom I cherish and wish all lived on the same block.
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• I have a great family, my family and my wonderful in-laws(who I am missing SO MUCH today). 
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• I have been part of BSF --Bible Study Fellowship-- every Wednesday morning for the last 11 weeks and it has been one of the best experiences of my life to study Isaiah so deeply with such beautiful, godly women! 

I hope you take some time this day and this weekend to reflect on what you are thankful for in your life as well.

"The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings." -Eric Hoffer

when God breaks hearts

I used to be the type of girl who sought after and longed for God with all of her heart. He was always on my mind. I loved reading His Word and I hid it in my heart as I treasured and pondered the things He said to me. I saw Him in everything…blue skies, a friend’s embrace, a great quote that struck to my core, smiling eyes on a stranger’s face, pink sunsets. I could list how He revealed Himself for days and not come close to giving you the full picture. I talked to Him all the time…on the pages of my journal, in the car driving to class, on the phone with a friend in need, before I even opened my eyes in the morning. We were that close. Have you ever woken up already praying? It’s amazing to feel that connected to your Creator; for it to be so natural to speak with Him that you are uttering your praises and fears before your eyelashes flutter open. I talked about Him all of the time…with my family, my dearest friends, people I met in the bookstore, and classmates. I sang to Him all of the time too…there were times I felt that I said it best when I sang it because I could express more vividly how much I felt it. I sang with the throng on Sundays and Wednesdays, at the top of my lungs in my room and in the bathroom where the acoustics were forgiving.


There came a time in my life when I literally knocked on death’s store, but he didn’t answer. During that time the pages of my Bible became a bit more worn and tattered, not to mention colorful as I love to highlight the sweetest words to me at a particular moment. I couldn’t sing anymore, but I could listen to music and I would just sit and listen and smile or cry as the melodies and lyrics tugged at my heart. There were moments that the only prayer that could escape from my lips was Jesus name alone because the pain and exhaustion were so heavy upon me. I made new friends as God provided me with new faces and new lives to pour into and allow to overflow into mine. My strength faded in body, but my Spirit soared. He never let go of my hand as I trusted His promise, that His strength would be made perfect in my weakness.


Since God was so incredibly good to me during this time, I felt like there was just nothing He wouldn’t do for me if I only asked for it. He was just lavishing me with His love day in and day out and I was truly amazed. So I began to pray for That One Thing, fully expecting Him to give it to me the way that I wanted it and sooner than later too. But That One Thing never came. So the girl who I once was seemed to fade away. I was still the girl who loved and longed for God, but not with her whole heart because it felt broken and somehow betrayed. Not at the hands of some foolish boy this time, this time it felt like my heart had been broken by the One Guy I placed all of my hope in. God Himself.


That was 6 years ago. Six years of not feeling like myself because it felt rehearsed and forced to pray. Six years of not feeling like myself because I no longer saw God in the grand and simple things so easily anymore. Six years of not feeling like myself because when I got my voice back I found that it did not return with sincerity. Six years of not feeling like myself because I could no longer talk about God and trust that I meant what I said.


And now I am beginning to see why He did not give me That One Thing six years ago when I first asked. I am beginning to understand how foolish I was for treating my precious Lord and Savior as though He were a trite genie in a bottle waiting for my requests. God knows a whole lot more than I ever will and He knew that it was not time for That One Thing. He also knew I needed to learn that He is in control, not me. He had to teach me to trust Him. Although we had gone through so much, I still did not trust Him completely.


God is so good. Despite my foolish anger with Him for unmet requests, despite my unfaithfulness, despite my lack of trust, He has spent the last six years drawing me back in time and time again. He reminds me all of the time that He loves me and that He misses me. I know the sound of His voice. You can’t be a girl so deeply in love and then forget the sound of His voice. He’s let me know of His commitment to me via the fellowship of Believers, a friend’s sweet smile, my husband’s gentleness and patience, and many pink sunsets, to name just a few. But my favorite is that quiet, still voice…the One I hear recalling back to me those Words I treasured up in my heart years and years ago.


So six years later I have begun praying for That One Thing again. The format of my prayers has changed. More Him focused. More other focused. You’ll find less of me in there now. And I know there will be days I struggle and begin to lose faith again. But those will be the days that I stop looking for Him and listening for His voice because He will continue revealing Himself regardless of my seeking. Truth be told…I don’t know if I will ever see That One Thing happen or not, but I do know that His ways are not my ways and that His thoughts are higher than my own.


That One Thing or not…God loves me. And while He may be in the business of breaking hearts for our own good, He is also in the business of mending them. And half the battle here is knowing when to let Him do both.