{the space in between}

I don’t know how to do this.

I don’t know how to parent a teenager. I don’t know how to move from helicopter mom to teaching my daughter how to fly. I don’t know how to navigate this space in between child and adult.

Those were the words left on my computer screen after I got the call from my husband that I needed to take Zach to football practice, and the message from our carpool that I also needed to pick Tali up from cheer. I have been thinking and praying about this topic for weeks, how to write about this place I find myself in with my daughter… this space in between. As I sat down to write yesterday morning, those were the only words I had. I don’t know how to navigate this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to transition this relationship in a healthy way.

I typed them, and then went about my day, praying for a way to articulate all of the wrestling in my spirit. Parenting is hard. But now I'm seeing that parenting a teen is it's own special variety of hard. I'm not good at relinquishing control. I'm not good at watching people I love make less than ideal decisions. As I closed down programs in my computer before climbing in my big, silver taxi and hitting the road [again], they flashed across the screen at me.

I don’t know how to do this.

I don’t know how to parent with space. I don’t know how to give Tali the room she needs to stretch and grow and fall down and pick herself back up. Especially when I see so much of myself in her.  When I see the me that had everything in front of her and made such poor choices. When I see the me that is afraid to invest emotionally. When I see the me that can’t open up to people.  And I want to tell her the easy path. I want to pour into her the lessons I have learned and have her “get it”- ALL. Without the harsh learning curve I had.

When they are little, when we see them running faster than their little legs are equipped to keep up with we can stop them. We can yell ahead “Don’t run!!! You’ll skin your knees!!! Slow down!” We can keep them from so much hurt. But even when they are little… sometimes they still run. Sometimes the warning comes too late. Sometimes the knees still get skinned.

And here I am with this teenager… and I want to yell “DON’T RUN! Slow down!”… but the truth is, there are going to be bruises and wounds along this path.  And not only can I not keep her from all of them, but it wouldn’t be in her best interest if I did.

Sometimes we learn our best lessons from the skinned knees.

Sometimes that is the only way we figure out how fast our feet can carry us without toppling over.

The thing is, when it’s a six year old’s knee, we can kiss it and put a Band-Aid on it, and offer up a popsicle (because they make EVERYTHING better)… but when it’s a heart. Oh, it’s so much more difficult. And the mama bear desire to protect and guard is strong…

And that’s where I found myself standing in the shower, tears running down my face asking God… how far do I let her go? How closely do I guard?  Oh Lord, what decisions do I let her make, and which ones do I make the call?

And He answered… how far will I let you go, Becky?

And I know, He will let me go as far as necessary to learn to lean. He will guide and direct and steer with the power of His Holy Spirit, but in the end, the choice is mine. The path is laid out before me, His way and Mine… and I get to choose.

And so it is in this space in between with my teen… I can guide and direct, I can lay out the options and explain the consequences… but in the end she will decide. She will choose to be home by curfew or not. She will choose the way of honesty or not. She will save sacred spaces in her life or not. 

I recall my mom warning me when Tali was two years old and throwing a temper tantrum… “what seems cute and harmless at two isn’t so cute and harmless at thirteen, you are setting the stage now”.  She was so right. Oh, moms of littles, imagine that temper tantrum or talking back or ignoring the rules on a teenager and use that as a gauge as to how seriously you will take it now.  How far will you let them go, now? Because when they are teens those are the tools they will have in their tool belt to make their own decisions.  Be mindful of the pace you set for them now, because tomorrow, they will need to know how fast they can run.

My job as a parent is far from over, but it is definitely changing. My littles are now 11 and 13, and just aren’t so little anymore. It’s a season of transition and I don’t know exactly what it is supposed to look like or how to know if we are doing it well. I look back and hope and pray that we have laid a firm foundation. I pray that we have the courage to let our children fly, even when the nest seems so safe. In the end,  it's not even about her heeding my advice. But learning to hear the Father's voice. Following His call on her life. Letting Him pick her up when she stumbles.

I know that I can warn (and I will), I can call out “don’t run!”… but in the end, these years are about Tali learning how to set the pace. Learning how fast she can run without toppling over. Learning who she is and setting her sights on who she wants to be.  Learning how to navigate disappointment and words that hurt and relationships that are complicated and friends who aren’t.

And maybe, the best thing I can do is be there with a hug and a popsicle when the knees get skinned a little.   

But it’s hard. It’s hard to bite my tongue when I want to offer advice. It’s hard to navigate a space where words are easier spoken via text message than face to face and to know if that’s okay. It’s hard to see so much of me.  It’s hard not to guard and protect against every hurt.  It’s hard not to micromanage. It’s hard to honor the space she needs to grow.

And so that is where I was yesterday, as I typed those words on my computer screen.

I don’t know how to do this.

I don’t know how to navigate this thing. I don’t know how to parent a teenager because I’ve never done it before… and it’s too important to mess up. I feel inadequate and overprotective and scared and excited and sad all at the same time. This space in between… it’s hard.

Those words… I don’t know how to do this… danced in my head as we pulled out of the high school parking lot and the tears began to trickle down Tali’s cheeks. She poured out her hurt and her frustration and her disappointment, and I thanked God that she trusts me with these things, and asked Him to please help me have words that would encourage and build up and teach and challenge…

We talked. I told her that it did suck. I told her that it was okay to be upset and frustrated. I told her it was not okay to give up. I told her to remember she is good enough, and not to let anything change her smile.

And that’s when I opened the envelope with six one dollar bills in it. Money that someone had just given me unexpectedly. Money that I didn’t even realize I was “owed”.

Looking at the money I had a crazy idea…

“Steve and Kinzi are behind us… what do you think they would do if we threw this money at them?”

“What?!” Tali asked… and a smile began to spread across her face… “we could throw it out the sunroof!!”… so I gave her three dollars (because really, throwing money out the window IS crazy, and Dave Ramsey would NOT approve, and so we were only gonna toss half of it because apparently that makes it –OK–). And one at a time she tossed them out the sun roof.

Tali's Facebook Status last night. #worthit

Turns out, money is quite dramatic flying out a sunroof at 60mph.  

And it was hilarious.

We watched the shock on our friends’ faces as the money flew back toward them….

And we laughed til the tears changed.

Her friend called her, and we giggled even harder. She also threw one more dollar out just for good measure.

It wasn’t a Popsicle. It wasn’t a Band-Aid. But it was the best $4 I have ever spent.

When I got home, I opened my computer and I saw those words again…

I don’t know how to do this.

And the truth is, I don't. But in that moment I heard my Father speak loud and clear... but I do. 

Father, help us lean on you as we parent. Help us lean on you as we navigate new seasons. Help us lean on you to guide and direct our yes's and our no's. Be the Light to this path, Jesus. In Your Name we pray, AMEN.

{when you miss your dad}

I was a little girl who looked at her daddy with all adoring doe-eyes. He loved me well, took me under his wing when the father the world had assigned to me threw me away… he could do no wrong in my eyes.  I would stand on the top of his cowboy boots and straining my neck to look straight up into his eyes we would dance around.  He could set up a tent in the dark of night by only the lights of our pick up truck.  He could embarrass my mom as we made our way through 3D (remember that store?) in ways unimaginable to most families. We laughed. A LOT.

Once, we were on our way to family church camp, and the hood flew up on the bus completing obstructing the windshield. Everyone on that bus remembers with laughter how he stuck his head out the window and calmly guided us to the side of the road, hopped out, tied the hood down with a rope, and then got back in- all without breaking a sweat.

That is the super-hero daddy that I knew.

Looking back, I know that he didn’t get it all right. Looking farther back into his past I know that he flat out got some things very wrong.  But my memories are so full of joy, that my heart cannot rest on the mistakes for very long.

I am not one to get caught up much on dates on the calendar. Since he passed away, I note the date that marks the anniversary of his death, and of course his birthday… but generally I have said that I miss him no more or less on those days than any of the other days of the year. Father’s Day comes and goes year after year with very few “woes” to me and my daddy’s girl heart because I’m busy celebrating the amazing dads still here in my life- my husband, step-dad, father-in-law and countless others.

No, it’s seldom a holiday or anniversary that causes that dull ache in my heart to split open into a sharp pain. But that doesn't mean I don't have them... it's just that, for me, they creep up at the most unexpected times.

It’s passing an amazing bunch of wildflowers on the road and thinking “Dad so would have stopped to get a bouquet of THOSE for mom”. A thought that I haven’t had for years, but seeing these giant purple blossoms brought that pang of remembrance and longing. Telling Zachary stories of many a wasted hour picking “weeds” we saw as flowers with my dad, more often than not while we were on our way somewhere and already running late. Pulling over with Zach to grab a picture (my version of a bouquet)… and thinking how much my little man would have loved my dad. How much Papaw Joe would have loved this kid and his quick wit. How loudly he would have cheered at football games. The shirts he would have made that said "Tali & Zach's Grandpa"... he was just that kind of guy.

It’s sitting on concrete benches at the Bicknell ball park as Jim coaches our son, remembering sitting on those very benches as dad coached the little “Mets” ball team (they were just as uncomfortable as a ten year old girl as they are now).  Watching him out on the ball field in his coach’s shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots cheering on the little guys on his team with everything he had and arguing unfair calls even more energetically. 

could I have sat any closer to him?

It's glancing over my shoulder from that concrete bench and pointing out my childhood home to the friend sitting with me. A little gray house on a corner, close enough to the ball park that we could enjoy rocket pops and fun dip all.summer.long.  I think about playing Frisbee in the field across the street. Learning to ride my bike in the road right behind me. The swing that sat outside that house and played such a prominent role in our happiest summer nights. Fireworks set off on the Fourth of July.  And this feeling creeping in that it’s not really fair that he was never able to see a single one of Z’s games, or Tali’s dance recitals. Oh the bouquet of flowers he would have brought her! I imagine a few weeds stuck in for good measure…

It’s walking through a thrift store and catching sight of a wagon-wheel clad couch… you know the ones, brown and cream and orange with dark wood trim in all of their early 80’s glory. It’s remembering sitting with your hero on just such a couch as the record player crooned the words to “Rose Colored Glasses”, your daddy singing along in that out-of-tune way he had about belting out his favorite songs.

It’s driving down the road with my knee. Spinning donuts with Jim and the kids on an empty parking lot after a snowstorm.  Seeing the way my brother smiles, cocking his head to the side with a glint in his eye that must be genetic.

Or last night, as I photographed a bride in white dancing with her daddy. The way that they looked at one another- a daddy’s girl all grown up but still looking into the eyes of her hero.  And wishing I could have had that memory. Wishing that one last time, I could have kicked off my shoes and stood atop his cowboy boots and twirled around a dance floor. A princess, and the man who made her feel that way…

Most of the time, when I think of dad it is with a happy smile and joy in knowing I will see him again. But occasionally, it is like this feeling of longing and what-if and missing out.  I am learning, that’s okay. For years I have choked back these feelings of sadness. I have pushed them at arms length for fear that the feelings would actually overwhelm me, overtake me. But Jesus is teaching me that, even in this, He is my strong tower. And that the only way to march through the waves is to let them hit you. As my sweet friend, Lauren, reminded me this week... our Father is a good one who will lift us at just the right time, so that the waves don't overtake us.

Maybe you are missing someone like that too. Take heart, dear one. Take heart that our Heavenly Father understand our grief. He understands the pain of separation from the One He loves. And like any good Daddy, he holds us in these moments of grief. He weeps with us, and whispers gently words of comfort and love and understanding.

He doesn’t want us to stay in this place, but He does want us to be honest with Him about it. To ask Him why, tell Him we don’t understand, to lean our heads on his ever-strong chest and let Him catch each tear that falls. He wants us to trust Him when the waves feel strong... and at just the right time He will lift us... or even better, He will part the sea and let us walk through on dry land.

Would you let me pray for you?

Father, oh God... Abba... I thank you that you are a good God and a good Father. I thank you that you come right where we are, that you meet us even in grief and sadness. Lord, I pray for those who are hurting tonight, for those who, like me, are missing their daddies. I pray Lord that you would be near to the brokenhearted, as your Word promises. I pray that you would be near to this daddy's-girl-heart tonight. I am thankful to know that in Jesus, we have a Savior who knows exactly what we are feeling, that He also wept, and that it's okay to rest for a while in our feelings. To actually FEEL the things some of us have kept at arms length. I thank you God, that you are the lifter of our heads... would you keep our eyes focused on your goodness, your mercy, and your love. Would you remind us of the great hope we find in eternity, and the great reunions that will some day take place? Would you mend hearts tonight? Catch tears? Would you capture us up in your arms, and dance with us atop your ever strong, ever steady feet? I thank you, Father, that all that you are... you are for each and every one of us. In Your Son's beautiful Name I pray... AMEN.

For more on how our Daddy God holds you in your grief:  a daddy's love

To read more about my daddy, and how he loved me: tale of a father's love

devo//so this is LOVE

1 John 2:7-11

⁷ Dear friends, I am not writing you a new command but an old one, which you have had since the beginning. This old command is the message you have heard. ⁸ Yet I am writing you a new command; its truth is seen in him and in you, because the darkness is passing and the true light is already shining.

⁹ Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates a brother or sister is still in the darkness. ¹⁰ Anyone who loves their brother and sister lives in the light, and there is nothing in them to make them stumble. ¹¹ But anyone who hates a brother or sister is in the darkness and walks around in the darkness. They do not know where they are going, because the darkness has blinded them.

I have been praying over these verses all day. What, Father, would you have me to say.

Yes, the command John writes for us, it is both old and new. This command to love God and to love our brothers, it has been the desire of God's heart since He spoke and the universe was formed. The command to love God, and to demonstrate that love through our obedience is strewn through the Old Testament. Instructions to care for the widow and orphan, to love one another, to care for our neighbor... we find this throughout scripture as well. It's also new in that Jesus took it to a whole new level- who is your neighbor? Love your enemy! Forgive one another, and seek forgiveness! And do all of this with the power of the Holy Spirit He sent to take up residence in our hearts... He doesn't just give us the command, but He equips us to actually do it.

Yes, I can't say that I love God and then also hate my brother. That makes sense. Love comes from the Light. The Light is Love.

All true, but there is more. There is another layer here. Help me uncover it Father. What would YOU have me to say? To share? To teach? To learn? What is there that I am not seeing?

I have read the study notes in three different Bibles. I have sought His face, His voice. I have prayed. I have contemplated. I read the passage in several translations... and then, as so often is the case, the Message spoke right to my heart... another layer...

Anyone who claims to live in God’s light and hates a brother or sister is still in the dark. It’s the person who loves brother and sister who dwells in God’s light and doesn’t block the light from others. But whoever hates is still in the dark, stumbles around in the dark, doesn’t know which end is up, blinded by the darkness. (vs 9-11).

Do you see it? Do you see it right there in the middle... It's the person who loves brother and sister who dwells in God's light and doesn't block the light from others.

I want to be a Lightbearer. Not a Light-blocker. I want to dwell in God's Light. Live right there in it's warmth. Welcome it's uncovering of the darkness in my heart. I want it to shine in me and through me and spill out onto others.

And what does that look like? What does dwelling in the Light look like? What does not-blocking-the-Light entail???

Love.

It's the person who loves....

You see, one thing I know about God is that He is love... and that one cannot grow closer to Him without growing in their own capacity to love. You invite God into your heart in a greater and greater measure, then you are inviting Love into your heart in a greater and greater measure...

and it will be evidenced in your life.

it will shine in you and through you and spill out on onto others.

Your love for God is evidenced in your love for your brother and sisters. And this love does not block the light from others.

I'm going to take it a step further. Because the Jews of Jesus' day got all tripped up on the language used... who is our neighbor, Rabbi? And then Jesus set everything they knew on its ear. As Christians we do the same thing. Even today, seeking His revelation on this passage, I searched out the meaning of "brother" here... who is our brother?  Is He just talking about other Christians here? Our brothers and sisters in Christ?? After all the New Living Translation actually says "but hates a Christian brother or sister" in verse 9...

But I can't shake the feeling that defining our brothers as just those who think like us... is... so narrow. That if we were to ask Jesus "who is our brother" He would tell us a parable that would set everything we understood on its ear.

That we aren't just called to love those who already know Jesus because... frankly, that's not the way Jesus Himself loved.

Jesus specifically sought out the homes of the sinners, the tax collectors, the cast offs. He met up with the woman at the well, on purpose... He met her right where she was and He loved her right out of that place. He didn't wait for her to "come clean" before He offered her the Living Water. He loved her first, exposed her sin later, and a whole town was won in the end.

I wonder, when we say we want to love like Jesus, look like Jesus, be His hands & feet & heart... I wonder... if it shouldn't look like this?

I want to tread carefully here. I want you to hear my heart on this...

Because I really do believe that the love of Jesus is a radical love, and so the love of Jesus flowing through us should look a little crazy, overwhelming, radical... and a little less like judgement.

I say this with caution, because I am not a "judge not lest ye be judged" kind of person... I know that read in context that this verse tells us we need to be a lot more concerned with walking in holiness ourselves so that we can see and help our brother with the speck in his eye (check it out, that's really what it says). More on that in another post, perhaps.

This is my heart tonight... this is my heart for the lost, dying, hurting, broken, not-knowing-Jesus world...

They will never be won by a picket sign. 

Or a picture of an aborted fetus.

Or a pointing finger.

Or an "us vs. them" mentality.

This world will only be won by His love.

I may stumble my way back to church out of a fear of Hell... but it's only a discovery of His love that will keep me there. 

And since the lost aren't listening for His voice...
they can only know His love as it pours into us, through us, spilling out of us onto them.

Even when they are waist deep in the sinful life.

And this love does not block the light from others.

I sat on the floor with one crying from the depth of her soul. Her own sin so shocking to her that she could not even speak. The wails and the moans that poured forth ripped through my spirit. And I was overwhelmed with love for her. Not because I am so good, or so perfect, or so holy... but because I asked God to equip me in that moment and that's what He gave me. Love. Why love? Because condemnation, in that moment, would have locked her in a prison of shame and guilt and fear... but love... oh LOVE BRINGS FORTH THE LIGHT. And she needed the Light then more than any other time in her life. She needed love.

Isn't that how Jesus loved?

But the church... oh we so often act more like the religious leaders who brought the adulterous woman before Jesus, ready to stone her.  Picking and choosing the sins to highlight (the man was not brought forth, as the law would have also required).  Pointing to her sin as much greater than our own. Carrying our picket sign against it.

But Jesus... He didn't join the crowd. No instead...
Jesus... forgave.
Jesus... loved.

And this love poured Light into her life.

I want my love to do the same thing. I want my witness to be one that builds up rather than condemns. I want my life to be one that doesn't block the light from others.

That's why my words on Facebook, and this blog, and I hope in my life reveal so much more about the things that I am for than the things I am against. Because when I speak out against abortion, there very well could be a woman at the table across from me, who has walked through that [some statistics show that as many as one out of three women are post-abortive]. I made that mistake the other day, and in my spirit I just knew that there was one in the room who was staring at her hands because she had been there... and that my words did not encourage, or build her up, or remind her how precious she is to the Father... but brought  feelings of shame and guilt and fear.

Oh, Father...Did I block your light?

One out of three. That is frightening on so many levels... oh those women! Oh how their hearts must ache! How their minds must wonder... "what if..."  One out of three. That means an anti-abortion message on my Facebook wall could block the light for as many as three hundred women. I'm not saying you shouldn't post these things on Facebook, or speak them in your life... I am explaining my own conviction, and why I don't [except when I do, like the other day, and then I don't feel great about it].  Because her life is as important to me as the baby that she didn't have. And so I want her to know the forgiveness of Christ. The mighty work He has done in my life. How precious she is to Him... How very precious... How wide and deep and high His love for her is... and I don't know that condemnation will do that for most women.

I want to meet her where she is and then love her out of that place.  I want to touch her hand and look into her eyes and have an overwhelming love pour through me.

I want to talk to my homosexual friend in a way that he knows I love him... from the depths of who I am... and when he asks what the Bible says about his lifestyle I want to answer in a way that brings hope. And truth. And love.

I want to meet with the girl in jail and have her know that Jesus loves her.

I want to sit on the floor with a sister waking up from her sin and let her know that God isn't done with her yet. That there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

I want them to know His love.

I want you to know His love.

Oh friend, whatever you have walked through. Whatever your history, or your sin, or your hang up, or your addiction....

Jesus loves you.

And so do I.
So do we.

Sometimes we just aren't sure how to show it. Sometimes it's hard to know how to take a stand for what is right, and still love the one that is wrong. Love the sinner, hate the sin... it's tricky stuff.

Father, oh Lord won't you help us know how to love? Won't you help us know when to speak, when to take a stand, when to use our voice to protect the voiceless.... and when to love quietly? When to be extravagant with grace? Lord won't you guide our words and our actions so that the world would know YOU are at work in our lives? Father give us a greater capacity to love. Lord please, please won't you dig deep wells of love in our hearts, and then fill us to overflowing with a light that pours out into this world! Lord won't you remind us that it is not our job to convict... only the Holy Spirit can do that! Only your Holy Spirit can change! Only your Holy Spirit can bring about repentance... oh but we can LOVE! Lord will you let your light shine in our hearts, casting out all darkness! Father will you make us a people who never, never blocks the light from others... Thank you for equipping us to this calling with the power of YOUR Holy Spirit.... in the name of your beautiful Son I pray...

devo//FELLOWSHIP [1John 1:7]

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. [1 John 1:7]

Just before He went to the cross, Jesus took time to get alone in the Garden. There, on dusty ground he lay- pouring Himself out to the Father. Have there ever been such an intense time of prayer in all of history? The Son communing with The Father at the cusp of redirecting history. On the verge of making a way for us. As Jesus prepared Himself spiritually for the sacrifice to be made, as He readied His mind and His heart to become sin... He prayed for us.

For me, and for you. JESUS. Our Savior, our perfect sacrifice, the One who hears our every prayer... prayed for us.

I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me... May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you loved me. [John 17:21, 2]

Jesus could have prayed for anything here. He could have asked that we be prosperous, that we be world changers, that we win over many... but here, pouring Himself out in prayer from the deepest recesses of His Person... He prays that you and I should walk in unity, in fellowship with one another. 

Oh Father, let them be brought to complete unity- because THEN the world will know that you sent me, THEN the world will trust the report of their testimony, THEN the world will be changed, THEN our Truth will be made known, and your Name will be glorified.

Our communion with one another was so important to Jesus. He knew that this would be the thing that would set us apart from the rest of the world. He also knew that without unity, without oneness of spirit, without a single-minded focus on the work of the Kingdom... we are less. Our power is less, our prayers are less, our impact is less.

And so, when we truly walk in the Light, we have fellowship with one another and the blood of Jesus purifies us from sin. Too many Christians focus only on the second half of that statement- they question how their sin-life has been changed, cleaned up, cast out by the blood of Christ... And certainly, we need to be ever mindful of those things...

But have you checked your walk with your brothers and sisters? Have you checked your fellowship with the church down the street? Have you checked your heart toward the sister that has fallen, or the brother that is more successful, or the believer that sinned against you?

Because if we are walking in the Light, we should be walking in unity. In fellowship. In oneness of heart and mind and spirit. Single-minded in our focus... Kingdom Minded.

Can we rejoice when another church in town enters a season of abundance? When the unchurched come through their doors and money seems to come easily? Can we celebrate without jealously?

Can we enter into mission with other Bodies without concern for whose name is at the top of the list of credits... or even better, not worrying if our name appears at all?

Can we forgive the brother or sister that has hurt us... simply because Jesus tells us that's what we need to do? Can we walk in unity with the one that offended? Or the one who seems to be more successful, in their lives or in their ministries?

What about the sister who has fallen? Can we join her in her pain, encouraging her spirit and lifting her head toward Jesus? Or do we shake our heads knowingly across a room at a prayer meeting? Do we speak in hushed whispers about that sin we are all just a compromise away from stepping into?

Unity was everything to Jesus. Everything. At this moment, when He was facing literal darkness... separation from the Father who is Light, becoming our sin offering... He asks Father that He would equip us to walk in unity... and not just for our own good, but so that the world would know.

Father, I thank you for the beautiful example of unity and submission we find in your relationships with your Son. I thank you so much that you have not left us ill-equipped for this call to unity, but that you have strengthened us through the power of the Holy Spirit to walk out this calling. That you have gifted us with submission, to think of others needs above our own. That you have transformed our minds into the minds of Christ so that we may be single-minded about the work of your Kingdom!!! That I can rejoice when another does big things for your Kingdom... because we are all ONE. Father would you strengthen our unity? Would you bring us into greater levels of one-ness? Would you convict our hearts of areas of competitiveness, jealousies, selfish ambitions? Will you show us areas where we have set ourselves higher than another? Will you give us the strength to forgive? The ability to meet another brother or sister where they are and lift them up out of sin? Thank you Father for hearing our prayers and for bringing our hearts in line with your will! We love you Jesus... in your name...

learning to stop.

I lay on the couch, laptop propped on a pillow on top of me. It’s a familiar evening routine, mommy editing pictures, or uploading sessions to her website, or blogging, or typing case notes. Since {in a blink} has taken off, my life has become very, very busy. And while I am thankful for what God is up to, and how He has blessed our family with the extra income to help us get out of debt, it can be hard sometimes to put in the hours that are necessary… and to love on my babies like they need. Especially the one with blonde hair and big brown eyes.

I am just being honest here.

I didn’t really realize how busy my life had gotten until last night, as he chattered on and I focused intently on a text message conversation and picture edits and catching up on emails and checking the status of a photo delivery, and he said “Mom, did you hear a word I just said?”

The answer was “no”. Not a single word. {mother.of.the.year}

He and I were home alone, and to this minute it makes me cry because I STILL do not know what he was talking about. I asked him to repeat himself, and instead of re-hashing it, he marveled at how I could look like I am listening, and instead my mind be a hundred other places. He wasn’t upset, in fact he thought it was funny.

But I didn’t think it was funny at all.

Lately, 4H projects and a flurry of craft glue, fabric, ribbon, paint, and glitter have given Tali and I the quality time that works for her.  She is an acts of service type lover… showing her love by carrying babies, vacuuming (one of my favorites), helping in children’s church, getting you a refill on your sweet tea, and running to the car to grab something you forgot. And so my taking copious amounts of time to sit with her as she creates, offering my expertise and opinions (many of which are rejected!)… unexpected trips to Vincennes to get that one item she just has to have… Digging through my craft storage and offering her free reign of my stash… shows her that I love her.

But that doesn’t work for Zach. I can do things for him, paint him something cool, buy him all of the things that his heart desires, even sit and talk with him and say the most encouraging things (which is why those words unheard didn’t faze him)… and none of those things speak love like the language of touch…of being together in a tangible way.

As I lay there tapping away on my keyboard, I sensed a critter crawling to me. Pressing his forehead against my cheek the critter whispered, “I haven’t laid with you in a long time”…

My almost ten-year-old little man… football player, catcher extraordinaire, bike rider, rough houser, model builder, straight-A student, video gamer… wanted to cuddle with his momma.

I want to say I put the computer down immediately. I did not. There is so much to get done. My to-do list grows and grows and grows and I never seem to get ahead of it. If I could just finish editing this one more session, I could put that satisfying line through their name on my list. Another hour or two and I will be done…I want to tell you that the natural thing for me was to cuddle my son. But stopping does not come naturally to me at all. Being still requires a conscious decision. 

But that head lay there next to mine. Little boy knees crouched on the floor by the couch. Just wanting to be close.

And I knew… I knew… these moments are fleeting. They will not be here forever. Zachary, here, near, wanting to lay on the couch with his momma. With me. No one in the world will do. Just me. One of these days he is going to grow up. He will move out and move on. This moment is fleeting…

And so I closed my computer and set it on the floor. Pushing my way to the back of the couch I made room. And with the lift of a blanket, Zach knew the invitation had been issued.

And so we cuddled.

All eighty pounds of him, pressed against me. Heavy and long.

I thought of the seven pound baby I laid on this very same couch with. How snuggly he fit, nestled against my body. And now, his head alone lay in that space. His body stretched the length of mine, falling only inches short of the top of my feet.

And yet. He still fit.

I rubbed his arm, now strong with the throwing of baseballs all summer. I ran fingers through hair bleached blonde from long hours at the local pool. I listened to a voice deepening, asking questions about the show flickering in the TV.

We talked, we watched… but mostly… we were just there. And in that was the love.

My cell phone chimed. A new text message.  I saw my son’s eyes glance toward the phone, and then to me.  He waited for me to reach for it (he knows his momma well).  But I let it lay. And then again, and again, and again, and again. Five messages lay in wait. But I didn’t move toward the phone. Those conversations are important. But not so important as this.  

Zach didn’t need me busy. He just needed me.

For an hour we lay together. For an hour I thanked God for this time, for slowing me down, for showing me the error of my way… for showing me how I had let the doing interfere with the being. I thanked Him for this little boy growing toward manhood. This one who makes me laugh with his witty humor. This one who hates to clean but loves to cook.  This one who brushes it off when mom has spaced out again and didn’t hear what he was chattering on about. This one who mops the floor after a spaghetti supper, even when mommy isn’t there to remind him to be helpful. This one who looks up to his daddy and so knows what a man should be. This one who works hard to achieve in sports what comes naturally to other kids. This one with a smile that melts my heart and stops my world and reminds me what is important. This one who… still fits in my arms.

This one who turned into my body, and head on my chest, fell asleep last night. 

As moms... it's easy to let the busy get in the way. The cleaning, or the working, or the cooking, or the preparing, or the washing, or the cell phone, or the computer... I am the worst. I do not do nothing well. I do not do stopping well. I am always going, and thinking and doing... most of the time two or three things at once. 

But last night, God used a kid with a heart for football and a penchant for fart jokes  to teach me how to stop. 

And to be.

And to love.

He showed me that the stopping was not nothing. It was something. It was everything. That the to-do list can wait. Photo edits will still be there. But this moment... this moment is precious and it is fleeting and that I have to slow down... or I am going to miss it. And I don't want to miss a thing in this amazing little man's life. I don't want him thinking my computer was more important than his cuddle. I don't know what this means for the future, or turn around time on photo edits, or working full time, or volunteering... but I know that I will do a better job at embracing the stopping, and the being, and the loving. In the end... it's all that will really matter.

Zachary... thank you for being patient with mommy when her mind is somewhere else and it should be with you. Thank you for laughing with me, and for loving me just the way I am. Thank you for sharing me with so many other people and things, and for being confident in my love no matter how poorly I show it. Zach, thank you so much for helping mommy slow down, to set the world aside, and remember what is really important. Thank you for helping me be the mommy you need me to be. I love you buddy... and just so you know... even when your toes stretch beyond mine on the couch... there will always be room. You will always fit.

Happy (in)Dependence Day, friends!

[note: blog redesign in progress. read my disclaimer here.]

I started out writing a post wishing you all a very happy Independence Day. To wax poetic about the cost of freedom, and the price paid by extraordinary men and women so that I can write a blog like this one, expressing opinions, sharing stories, and openly loving on Jesus all the while. I wanted to draw the clear parallel about a similar price paid by an extraordinary God so that we could know freedom in Him. All of it true, all of it challenging, all of it worthy of a blog post.

But I keep getting hung up on that word... independence. 

Every time I typed it, I was struck by the reality that while I love freedom (freedom in America and in Christ), I don't live a life of independence at all... nor do I really want to. As I wrote about Independence Day, I couldn't stop thinking about what life in community looks like. And how beautiful dependence on one another really is. And how desperately I depend on my Savior. And how I wouldn't change that for the world.

I think about the way I depend on my incredible husband... How I depend on him to do stuff like charge the air conditioner in my truck (in a Walmart parking lot in Evansville, nonetheless) so we don't have to ride home in 100 degree heat without a/c. Or the way I depend on him to love me, even when I am kind of unlovable. Or the way I depend on him to be there with an ornery smile, sharing the inside joke only he and I really understand. No, I wouldn't want to change that a bit. His dependence on me, and mine on him... lives intertwined so that we would be less without the other... I would not want to change that for the world. 

Or the way I depend on my friends to come through with a text message that makes me laugh at just the right moment. How my heart depends on their encouragement. The way I depend on them to challenge and sharpen me. A mutual dependence of love and respect. Community. Life without these people would be... too quiet. Too lonely. God speaks to my heart through them, and I would be less without their friendship.

But mostly, I think about my dependence on Christ. How many times a day I ask Him to help me...

Jesus, help me love this person well. 

Jesus, teach me how to seek your heart more.

Jesus, help me to seek YOUR approval, not man's.

Jesus, show me the next step.

Jesus, tell me how humility would respond.

Jesus, give me the strength to forgive.

Jesus, help me... Help me keep my mouth shut. Help me speak words of blessing. Help me rest in your joy. Help me keep my mind steadfast in you. Help me, help me, help me.

I know. I am really needy. 

And He is always there. He is always listening, heeding my cries for help. And I am so thankful... because I couldn't do this thing on my own. I couldn't raise children in the light of His love all by myself. I couldn't submit to the will of my husband (as good as he is) without clothing myself in the humility that comes from Christ.  I couldn't write these word without His inspiration and continual confirmation.  I couldn't chase Him with abandon if He didn't allow me to catch up to Him often enough to keep me thirsting for more. The Lord knows, I couldn't keep my mouth shut when my mind is firing appropriately sarcastic responses at warp speed without the whisper of His Holy Spirit showing me a better way. 

And perhaps more importantly, I couldn't be refined by my mistakes when I fail [almost daily] at these same things, without His grace.

I am striving to live a life in dependence on Him... a life lived (in)dependence of the One who knows the end from the beginning.

And the strangest thing is happening. The more I rely on Him, the more I look to Him for my next step, the more I count on Him to guide me... the more freedom I feel in my spirit.

As Misty Edwards sings... "it's an inside outside upside down Kingdom where you lose to gain, and you die to live"

It's a Kingdom where you live (in)dependence so that you can walk in freedom.

And not just the illusion of freedom. Not just a "getting to do what you want" warm fuzzy. But real freedom. Real liberty. Freedom that will cause your spirit to soar, and your fears to ease, and your love to grow, and your mourning cease. It is for FREEDOM that Christ set us free. It is for FREEDOM that He offers us the (in)dependent life.

Today I celebrate the country that allows me to live that (in)dependent life boldly... and I pray that you will join me on this wild ride in this upside down Kingdom... where we grow in freedom as we grow in our dependence on Him!

Happy (in)Dependence Day my friends!

19: encouragers

We stand a few feet apart... dreams and visions and hopes exchanged. We talk about the deep things of God, the plans and purposes He is calling us to. She encourages me. With a smile and a nod she lets me know that I am hearing Him right... she stands and listens as I rattle on about the million crazy things I am trying to sort out... and she doesn't seem to mind a bit. She is a person that I have let in on the secret desires of my heart because I know she can be trusted with them... not in a "trusted not to tell anyone" way... but in a "trusted not to shoot down my balloon" kind of way. I can trust her to support and encourage whatever wild-eyed scheme I have dreamed up. To brain-storm or to listen through my brain-storms (which is the way I figure most of my life out!). And to help in any way she can.

She listens to me like I imagine Jesus listening to me... eyes locked on mine, heart open, smiling with my enthusiasm and casting away the doubt when it creeps in.

You would think, by this description, that we have been friends for years and years. Not true in this particular case, but when God sets about binding hearts together, He can do so outside of the confines of time (because He's big like that!) And I'm so, so, so glad that over the last year He has truly gone about binding our hearts together!

I am thankful for this beautiful friend of mine... and the countless others like her that God has brought into my life! The women who encourage me, pray for me, brain-storm with me, work along side me... and love me right where I am at. I am thankful for the ones that I have known for decades, and the ones that I have only known a matter of months... and for the way that He has brought each into my life at just the right time. I am thankful for conversations held standing outside the church in the middle of the night, or in a garage on a crisp fall day, or via text during the day... And most of all, I am thankful for these women so gifted with encouragement... these ones who hold me up when I am feeling ill-equipped, full of doubt or less-than-the-call.

Do not ever underestimate the power of an encouraging word. So many times it is just the wind in the sails necessary to propel that boat of dreams to the horizon.

Thank you, friend, for spurring me on with your kind words and love. It's encouragers like you who give me the strength and the courage for the next step... whatever that may be... 

lessons in teamwork

Sunday was truly a red letter day for my little man. As he said while changing into pj's last night... "that was the best game of my life". And truly, it was the best game of his two year football career. Zach is always well used during football games- playing on both the offensive and defensive line and on all the special teams (in fact, he has played every minute of every game this season!)... but in this game he not only got to sack the quarterback, but then was put in many times as center, got to assist with field goals by holding the ball for the kicker, was able to return a kick-off... and the crowning moment, his coaches then put him in as running back and after a couple of tries he scored his first official TOUCHDOWN! I was so stinking excited for him! I'm not going to lie, I was pretty stoked for myself too because I happened to be on the sidelines taking pictures as it all unfolded. His coaches were so happy for him, each of them asking "Did you get it mom? Did you get the shot?" And from the sidelines, I could hear all of our friends and family yelling and cheering for him. It was electric! 

Sure it was just a youth football league. And our team was so far ahead that we didn't need another touchdown. But what an experience for him. And as I proudly proclaimed on Facebook after the fact... it was then that I officially became a football mom! Zach and I rushed home to check out the pics I had taken. He gave me the play by play through the game as we relived each moment in time captured on film. Great shot of the QB sack! Cool pics of him set to hike the ball! Action shots of him returning a kick-off! And of course the money shot of his first touch down! But of all the pics I took yesterday (a couple hundred!)... this is the picture that impacted me the most...

And it has nothing to do with the determination on my sons face... or the excitement I felt in this moment... or the cheers I could hear from his daddy...

It's because of the boys surrounding Zachary. His teammates, his friends... going before and behind, to the left and the right... complete protection as he runs the ball toward the end zone. They have him covered. This is what teamwork looks like. The boys I see in this picture are the ones that are usually running the ball... chasing the glory that lies just a few yards away while Zach stands in the gap for them on the line. But this time the roles are reversed and they are taking their job seriously. They've been there, they know when he gets to the end zone everyone will be yelling his name, not theirs... but they recognize their job as no less important. Protect the runner, make a hole, lead him through the chaos to the goal line.

It makes me cry to look at this picture.  And I can't help but think... what if we acted like this in the Body of Christ?  What if we worried less about who got the "glory" of a score on the board and more about just reaching the end zone? If entire church bodies would look at who's currently carrying the ball, and rally around them, cover them, protect them and carry them to the goal line. If rather than breaking out in jealousy when the church down the street experiences a "boom"... we would rejoice with them because we realize that it's not about the number of people in independent buildings... it's about the number of souls going to HEAVEN... it's about de-populating Hell. THAT'S the goal... and it doesn't matter if my church gets there this time, and yours the next, those points still go on the board...

I once read:
There is no limit to what can be accomplished when no one cares who gets the credit. {I've researched this quote, and it's attributed to at least three different people, so we are going to call it "Author Unkown"}

That's what I see in the picture of my son. A group of boys unconcerned with who gets the credit, single-mindedly focused on reaching the end zone... together.  And while these are just the boys caught on film actively protecting Zach, he pointed out that on a subsequent run someone on the line failed to block and he got creamed. That kid was in the position Zach usually plays... and in that moment he fully understood the importance of his job on the line. It takes a team to make a touchdown... it takes a Body to save the lost.


Can we, for the sake of the lost and dying of this world, tear down denominational {read man-made} walls and rejoice with one another? Cover one another? Protect one another? Realize that our common goal is not to fill our individual pews, but to populate Heaven? That we are about Kingdom Work not congregation building? That there are enough lost and dying in our communities that there should never be a cause for stealing sheep from another flock? After all, would a coach go and grab kids off the other team when he has kids ready to play standing on the sidelines?

And within our local bodies... what if we rallied around our Pastors the way we see these young boys rally around their QB? What if we flanked him/her... front, back, to the left and to the right. What if we stood in the gap in prayer, standing against the schemes of the enemy, being a first line of defense as he/she prepares the charge into the end zone? What if rather than criticizing, or neglecting, or tearing down... we built them up, encouraged, and protected? As Zach learned when he was in the back field... when the line fails, the play fails. Realize that your role in the Body is just as important as any other... whether you are on the line, or running the ball, or calling the plays... and if any one part of the Body fails... the line fails to block, the QB is slow on the hand off, the running back fumbles the ball... the play fails.  If you aren't standing in the gap, praying for your pastor every day (count me guilty...!) you are leaving him/her open to the schemes of the Enemy! If you get the message of salvation and fail to carry it into this lost and dying world, you've fumbled the play! Romans 12:3-8 says:
For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. For just as each of us has one body with many parts, and these parts do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body...We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully. [NIV]


God has gifted each of us differently. Our role is to realize what He has called us to do within the Body, and then do it with excellence. Give it 110% like I see these little boys doing in this picture. Single-mindedly working toward the common goal of reaching the LOST and growing His Kingdom! There is no limit, Church, to what we can accomplish when no one cares who gets the credit! It doesn't matter if you are on the line, or the kick-off team, run the ball or call the plays... it's about the Kingdom... and there is ONLY One who is deserving of the glory anyway! So rise up, friends... and take a lesson from this group of youth football players. After all, it's not about who's name goes in the book as haing made a TD... it's about whose name goes in the Lamb's Book of LIFE!


Psalm 133 {NLT}
How wonderful and pleasant it is
     when brothers live together in harmony!
For harmony is as precious as the anointing oil
     that was poured over Aaron's head,
     that ran down his beard
     and onto the border of his robe.
Harmony is as refreshing as the dew from Mount Hermon
     that falls on the mounts of Zion.
And there the LORD has pronounced his blessing,
     even life everlasting.

friday flashback.... anniversary edition

Seventeen years ago at this very moment, a sophomore girl at the high school was a bundle of nerves. The cute boy at school she'd had her eye on forever had agreed to go with her to the Sadie's Hawkins dance that night. They were friends, and conversation usually came easy, but would it be different on a "date". Would it be weird and awkward? Will they dance? What if he doesn't like her? What if he does? And who picks a Friday the 13th to hold a first date? It was nearly more than a fifteen year old girl's heart could handle. She looked back over the school day, remembering every glance and smile they had exchanged that day. Please God, just let it be okay! Okay?

That night, Jim and I had our first date. We were both fifteen [but he was a freshman]. Was it awkward- you betcha! The first hour or two he hung out with his friends while I tagged along like a desperate puppy. But once the actual dance started, and the lights dimmed... his focus shifted to yours truly. Conversation came easily again. Dancing with him felt natural, right. And sometime that night we became BeckyandJim. By Monday morning it was apparent to all my friends that something good was going on. And leave it to Bev with her gift of blunt... "So, are you two dating or what?" Jim's answer, with a shrug "I guess". And it was official.

We were immediately inseparable, spending hours and hours and hours on the phone. Before long I was meeting his family, and this picture was taken on my first outing with the Boyles' clan in 1992. To this day it is one of my very favorite pictures of us. Even with the hair- mine the size of Montana (granted the wind had something to do with that) and Jim's little mullet peeking out the back- I can't help but smile with joy every time I look at it. His mom snapped this shot of the two of us during a boat ride, completely lost in each other. Completely happy. BeckyandJim.

Seventeen years. It's mindboggling, really. I look back and it feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. Seventeen years is a long time to spend with the same person, especially when you are just 32! I hope though, that seventeen years is just the beginning of our story. That some day we are looking back on fifty or sixty or seventy years together. It's not always been easy, and we've had our fair share of trials... but looking back I wouldn't change a thing. And looking forward I can't imagine life any other way.

i can't breathe...

when i think about stories like this one. All-American family. One son, a daughter on the way. One day announcing the name of your baby girl, the next laughing about soccer practice, and the next announcing that you've had to take your husband to the hospital. He was admitted. Within two weeks he has gone home to be with the Lord. I can't even breathe when I think about the enormity of this kind of loss. When for the split second that I can stand it, I try to put myself in this young mother's shoes. But only for a split second, because I would go crazy to stay in that place much longer.

I think of Jim and how frustrated I can get about the most retarded things. How mad I get when I hear from Bev that we have plans with them- Jim and Garry have talked about it- but I haven't been clued in. (and I know you know what I mean Bev- I love hanging with you guys- and thankfully Garry's learned to text me directly to keep me in the loop!) How insigificant is that. How hurt I was when he got so upset about the ding we (being Zach, Mother Nature, and I) put in Thomas's door. How hateful I wanted to be in return. Instead of thanking God that we were having that argument IN CHURCH, where he wanted to be so bad he dragged our sick daugther to the service so he wouldn't miss it! How insignificant. How selfish. How self-centered. I know that the woman who writes the blog I linked above would probably give everything just to hear her husband's voice one more time, even if it is frustrated.

What if something like this happened to him? What would I do then? But I can't go there. I love him to the core of who I am. And even though we don't communicate the same way. Even though we love differently. Even though I get on his nerves sometimes and he on mine. Even though I get so focused on myself that I can't see beyond my nose at times... I love him. And I cannot imagine my life without him. I cannot. He is amazing. And it may sound cheesy, but he completes me... because he is who I am not. He is who God chose to finish the package. To tie up my loose ends.

I know that this post is going all over the place...and I'm officially into the ugly cry now. Please know that I am writing from a very, very deep place inside of me that goes untouched for the most part. But I just received the most beautiful gift. A plain white cd... it doesn't look like much... but it is full of pictures of my dad. And reading that blog, and then looking at those pictures, and I'm reminded of how temporary this life is. My daddy has been gone for two decades, but looking at those pictures I was the twelve year old little girl who just heard the words "your daddy is gone". And it was just like that. In a flash. No warning.

I know what God means by a "vapor on the wind".... I've seen the vapor vanish in a moment. But man, I do a terrible job living my life in the light of that reality.

Lord, help me to love better today. Help me to show my appreciation for the little things. Give me the grace I need to overlook small hurts and offenses. Help me love like you love Lord. I thank you for this day... I thank you for the breath you give me this moment. I thank you for the family and friends that you have put in my life that complete me. And I thank you, Jesus, than you understand what it means to be separated from someone that you love, and that you were willing to do that for me. Father, help me love through the annoyances, frustrations, and hurt... just like you love me. Jesus, make me more like you.

With Our Doors

A week or two ago I was perusing our church website. It's recently redesigned and so I was clicking all the links, checking out the spread, when I found a little error... the Sunday School class I teach, Without Walls, was incorrectly listed as "With Our Doors". At first I laughed, because this is a typically Seth typo [no offense, Seth, it's just the truth]... But as I emailed him about it, a hard truth began to settle in. I realized that as much as we as a Body strive for a life without walls... what we usually achieve is a life with our doors.

Doors that we open and close at will. Doors that we use to let people see what we want them to see. Even our best attempts at transparency, when we feel as though we are letting others see the dark side of our thought lives, can be veiled attemps to garner appreciation or affirmation or sympathy. I've done that. I've unloaded on someone and then said "just trying to be transparent"... but I really want them to see how bad I have it or how poorly I've been treated [at least in my own mind]. Ouch.

Instead of living in complete unity as Christ asked us to do, we build denominational walls. Walls of gender. Walls of age. Walls of beliefs. Walls of status. And once we realize the call of Christ and determine to tear down those walls... more often than not we just end up installing more doors. Right? Installing a door to let this group in... but that one is still a little "too fringe" for me. A door to let these people in, but let's keep it shut on those folks that are so "strict" in their beliefs. What about the walls we've built around people who have hurt us? Those within our own church family who have stepped on our toes? What kind of doors to you have installed to let them in on some parts of you, and keep them out of others?

And what about those outside the four walls of our church buildings? What about the lost and dying world we encounter every single day... How many walls do we have built there? How many friends do you have that are non-believers? How do you respond to brothers and sisters in Christ who have walked away from the faith? Jesus had no walls when it came to people... he taught in the synagogue and then ate with sinners. He met the demon-possessed and repentent with the same kind of grace. He still does. Do we?

And worst of all, are the doors we have installed in our relationship with Christ. Do you still have walls built around parts of your heart? Do you still have a door to the world, a place where you can go and visit at will without that pesky Jesus hanging over your shoulder? Hmmm? I do. Have you built a wall of justification around the sins in your life? I have!

I'm going to be transparent here. I don't like writing this right now! And I'm not looking for affirmation or sympathy or any of that. I'm telling you that this revelation has been MIGHTILY convicting for me. I'm not preaching at you friends, He's preaching at me. I've had this nagging thought since I read "with our doors"... and it's taken me at least two weeks to put this post to screen because therein lies the conviction.

I haven't torn down the walls in my life.

I have installed doors.

And I have comforted myself with the thought that with a nice big door- there's LESS wall there.

But there can't be a door without a wall, can there?

I do want to live a life without walls. I want to be transparent, honest, real... I want to get myself out of the way so that Jesus can do His work... in me and in this world. I want to live in unity with my brothers and sisters in Christ. I want to love this lost and dying world with the same passion Christ does. I want to mourn for those who don't know Him. I want to speak to the hearts hardened against Him. But mostly I want more of Him. I want to live FOR HIM. I don't want what this world has for me, because all it has is death and disappointment... but in Christ I find fulfillment and LIFE. Who would want to build a wall around THAT? And with more of Him, friends, the walls will come down. As we seek to become more like Christ we will stop installing doors and instead begin the work of steadily chipping away at the walls.

I am often reminded that one of the last things Christ asked the Father for in the Garden, was that we would live in unity. Why? So that the world would see that and KNOW that Christ was the real deal. And complete unity has no walls. It just can't. We may not get there this side of eternity friends, but Jesus is asking us to try... and the only walls we have control over are the ones we built ourselves. So lets start pecking away and then stand amazed as God moves!!!

how he loves me

• The oil in my truck- that he changes faithfully every 3,000 miles.
• The large Dr. Pepper- that he will stop and get me on his way home. The kind in the styrofoam cup with the good ice. The kind that is better than any other kind, that he has to go out of his way to get.
• The gas in my truck- probably pumped and paid for by him. He does so without grumbling or complaining, which is more than I can say for myself when I have to put gas into my own truck. He just checks the gauge and then pulls up to the pump.
• The couch- that he always lets me lay on in the evening. The one with the best view of the TV.
• The time away from home- mostly spent at church, grouping, or Emmaus functions. Time that he graciously allows me to have, guilt-free... to do what God wants me to do even though he really doesn't understand yet why I'm doing it. Even picking the kids up from church every Wednesday night without question or complaint so that I can "do my thing".
• The chicken salad- that he makes while making his own tuna salad. Because he knows I don't like tuna.
• The green pitcher in our fridge- always filled with semi-sweet tea made just for me. Just to my liking. Because I'm the only person I know that likes semi-sweet tea. So when he makes the Kool-Aid and the normal person tea, he also makes mine.

there are dozens more. probably hundreds. sometimes i don't appreciate them. others i don't even notice them. but tonight, as i sipped my dr. pepper, the one with the really good ice, i realized just how good i have it.

he may not always be the most romantic man in the world. and most of the time communication is NOT his strong point.

but he speaks his love in so many other ways... i just have to be sure i'm listening.

simple devotion

A spiritual slump... it's not a great place to be, but it's a wonderful place to be on the other side of. You see, God uses these times in the desert to teach us. To call us deeper into Him. To show us that our relationship with Him is more about Who He is than what we are feeling at that moment.

The last several weeks have been full of mixed feelings: hurt feelings, unworthiness, inability, loneliness, frustration... but throughout it all I could hear Him calling. He just wouldn't leave me alone. He wouldn't let me wallow in the the lies being whispered into my heart (as a good friend recently reminded me- feelings are very often not truth). My loving Father was showing up everywhere, despite the fact that I was being a brat. That's love. Nearly every client I visited wanted to talk about their faith. I would listen to secular radio and hear messages of salvation where they weren't intended. My amazing sister-in-law who is falling madly in love with Jesus right now would say the most uplifting and honest things to me. Sweet friends calling to offer compassion and empathy (you know who you are). The Sunday School lessons I was supposed to be leading were directly for me [I couldn't even make contact with my turtle girls week before last 'cause I knew they knew too!]

I kept hearing Him calling. Praise the LORD that our God is relentless in His pursuit of His children.

Every person the Father gives me eventually comes running to me. And once that person is with me, I hold on and don't let go. I came down from heaven not to follow my own whim but to accomplish the will of the One who sent me.
[John 6:37-38/the message ]

Imagine Jesus- holding on for dear life. Clinging to you, when you are too weak to cling to Him. This was His whole purpose in coming to this earth... to capture your heart. And He has captured mine. I went running to Jesus a long time ago. But since then there have been many times He's had to cling as I thrashed around in His grasp.

It's like a drowning person, being thrown about by the waves (he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. James 1:6b, NIV). Thrashing around... trying to figure out how to save themselves, gasping for breath. Then the lifeguard shows up, and what does He say? "Relax... I've got you... it's going to be okay". The sooner we relax into our Savior, the sooner He can get us to the safety of the shore.

I don't have it all figured out. I never will. But that's what faith is... being SURE of what we hope for and CERTAIN of what we do not see [Hebrews 11:1, NIV]. It's embracing the mystery. When we finally relax, and stop trying to save ourselves, Our Father rejoices! When we put our trust in Him, it makes His heart sing!

I love, love, love, love this Misty Edwards song. If you aren't familiar with her- look her up. Amazing, amazing stuff. As the spiritual fog began to lift, God had a message for me in this song. I wept as I sat in my car and listened to it... so here are the words, to hear the song either click on the title (will take you away from this page)- or go find it on my playlist on the right... Go ahead... You need to hear this song....

simple devotion
Over and over and over and over again
I will stir up my soul to lay hold of You
Over and over and over and over again
I will stir up my soul
To lay hold of that which I cannot comprehend
Over and over and over and over again
Over and over and over and over again

And then I’ll just lean into sovereignty
I’ll embrace a mystery
And I’ll just rest in You
As I bathe in truth
Over and over and over and over again
This is my simple devotion
My walk of faith, day by day
Over and over and over and over again

And then I hear You say
As You gaze over the balcony of heaven
I hear You say as You peer through the lattice of time
I hear You say as You stand in heaven
I hear You say as You rejoice over me
“O Angels! O Angels! Look and see!
Through that dark night of faith
She is gazing at Me!
O Angels! O Angels! Look and see!
Through that cloud of unknowing
She’s gazing at Me!
And You have ravished My heart
My sister, My bride
With one glance of your eye!”

Over and over and over and over again…

To think of God looking down at my meager acts of worship and devotion... and rejoicing. How humbling. And He does just that. To think of Jesus clinging to me for dear life. And He does just that. To think that my God loves me, and calls me friend... even when I am being a brat. And He does just that. Over and over and over and over again, I will stir up my soul to take hold of that which I cannot comprehend.

I weep at the power of it all.

not so good

i'm in one of those spiritual slumps. i don't feel good about things. temptation is more tempting than usual. the Word less inviting [because conviction lies therein-i'm sure]. offense comes easily.

i feel like i've hit a wall. a very tall, sturdy wall. the kind made out of smooth stone, with soft green moss growing up it's sides. a wall that calls for me to rest in it's shadow. to take a nap in the coolness of it's shade. it could be so comfortable here, if i only couldn't hear my Father calling. His voice makes me uneasy, it beckons me to go beyond the wall... to walk into the uncertainty of the other side... yet here i sit.

alone.

dwelling on hurt feelings. on how perfectly human people are. on how perfectly human i am. on what a disappointment i must be to the One who deserves only the best. on my damaged witness. on my broken past. on my sin. on broken relationships. on being so easily overlooked.

i don't like who i am right now, and i'm pretty sure Jesus doesn't either.


i'm struggling. so if you have a moment, friends, pray for me. because honestly right now i'm having a hard time doing it for myself.

i do too, mary... i do too

I've been really lucky to get to help out in Zach's classroom some lately, and it's been such a blessing to get to see him in his element, to get to know his friends, and to see how excited he is to have me involved. Last Thursday his excitement bubbled over as he saw me walk into the classroom... as I got about halfway to his desk, he couldn't wait another second, flashing a pink piece of paper at me, he proudly proclaimed "Look what Mary gave me!"... no sooner were the words out of his mouth and the little note was already stashed back in his desk. Mary has been a friend of Zach's since preschool, in fact he started calling her his girlfriend not long after they met. I was curious as to whether or not Mary knew of this (after all, that happens alot in the single-digit crowd), but her mom quickly confirmed for me that she heard just as much about my little man as I did about her little girl. Relationships among five-year-old are of the fickle sort, however, so I didn't give much thought to it.

Until a couple of weeks ago in the classroom. We were making turkeys on that day, and Joseph said "hey Becky, you better help your daughter"... smiling I informed him that Zach was my son and I didn't have a daughter in that class. As I walked away to get some supplies I heard Mary say "that's not my mom" and he informed her that he thought Zach was her brother. She promptly put him in his place "we are boyfriend and girlfriend, not brother and sister!" I could barely contain myself it was so cute!


Anyway, last week we got busy with papers, math bingo, centers and preparing to go home. The little note all but forgotten by yours truly.


But not so by Zach.

As soon as we got home, he pulled it out and asked me to read it to him. I have to be honest, the first two lines were a little tricky to translate (Mary is, after all, in kindergarten). The third however, was clear as can be...

I like the green color

I like the green color

I like the ZACH

-Mary

(note also the picture of the little Zach and Mary,

complete with two little hearts)

Honestly, you are melting right now aren't you? "I like the ZACH". Mary's obviously not your "do you like me, circle yes or no" kind of girl. She knows what she likes and she's willing to go for it. I like her already.

We hear a lot about Mary. We have a Mary Mii on our Wii. We have her school picture pinned to Zach's bulletin board. And now we have this proclamation of affection pinned right next to it. It makes me smile to see Zach coming into his own. Establishing friendships, being confident in his own skin, being Zach. I'm not quite ready for the world of girlfriends... but if he has to have one, I'm glad it's Mary. We have obviously have similar taste... because I'm pretty fond of the Zach too.

Mary and Zach at Preschool Graduation. May 2008.